Page 39 of Wicked Little Game
I wonder if Ruby’s dad knows that one of his employees helps his daughter sneak out. And another contact, a Sarah who didn’t reply to Ruby’s messages for what seemed like weeks at least.
Her call history was basically the same. She only called someone named Richard a day before we went to the mall, and apart from that, it was mostly empty.
Ruby stirred in her bed and I took that as a sign to stop snooping around, installed the tracking software and put the phone back where I found it before I snuck out of the room.
The sun goes down as I walk out to the patio, golden light reflecting in the pool. It’s really beautiful, but it doesn’t distract me from the chaos in my head.
Just as I begin to eat, myphone vibrates. Because of all that childish drama, I forgot Max told me that Rockwell wants updates today.
It’s beenover twenty-four hours since I last spoke to Ruby. It’s obvious that she’s avoiding me. A few days ago, I would have been happy about that. I don’t want to deal with herheartbroken attitude until I can leave. Soon. Despite that, not having her around affects me more than I want to admit.
Something about this whole ordeal rips open wounds it was supposed to heal. It makes me think back to the last woman who looked at me with a smile I couldn’t resist.
The same one that a year and a half later insisted on coming to the cemetery with me to meet my mom.
And also the same one that took the one remaining piece of my heart, ripped it out, and put a knife through it before she walked away.
There are reasons I don’t want a woman in my life, or anything resembling a relationship, or a short hookup. I can’t make an exception for this, not even for Ruby.
I just have to convince my dick, and my subconsciousness, about that. When Ruby finally comes out of her room for a few minutes, I have to suppress the urge to shove her against the wall and kiss her instead of having a pointless ten-word talk about how the weather was nice today.
Everywhere I go in this house, I smell her perfume, which is surprising, because the only rooms she really uses are hers, the kitchen and the living room. Still, my dick twitches every time I catch a whiff of her.
It drives me crazy and my tried and trusted solution of drowning my problems in booze isn’t working. I would call Max, but when I talked to Rockwell last evening, he told me he and the guys are on a mission for the next few days. Mexico again, and it’s better that they are going without me.
When I wake up the next morning with a half-empty bottle of whiskey lying next to me in bed, I come to the conclusion that I need to try a different approach. I look horrible, even worse than when I arrived here and I can’t let this situation affect me so much any longer.
Drinking isn’t working to get her out of my system, so maybe working out will help. And if it doesn’t, my body isgoing to thank me either way. So I make my way over to the gym, lifting weights until my muscles hurt. It’s a good pain, one that I can deal with.
It doesn’t help to get Ruby out of my head, though. She already made herself a nice, cozy home in there.
I don’t need a workout; I need a lobotomy. I could give Ruby my prefrontal cortex in a pretty cardboard box.
When I walk out of the gym and into the living room, it feels like walking into a sauna. The entire house is air-conditioned, but I forgot to close the patio doors in the early hours of the morning, so it heated up a bit.
My body feels close to either melting or succumbing to a heatstroke, so I rush upstairs to change into swim shorts and a loose-fitting shirt. It’s not that late, around 11am, so maybe, if I’m lucky, Ruby is still asleep and if she’s still pissed, she won’t come out of her room either way. And I could really use a cool down at the pool.
I am aware of my mistake as I walk out onto the patio. Why was I so dumb to think that I would have the pool to myself? And the even bigger question is: Why am I not turning around and walking back inside upon seeing Ruby there on a lounger?
Only God knows, and God is probably clasping his hands together in front of his face right in that second as I walk over to her. Ruby looks at me, sunglasses resting on the bridge of her nose as she, not very subtly, lets her eyes wander over my body, down to the cigarette in my hand, and back up to my face.
To my face that she can see.
She seems to realize that in the same second as me, her eyes widening as she tips over her glass of water while scrambling to sit up straight. Water runs over the patio, slowly seeping into the grout where it already dries by the time she gets her voice back.
Some part of me had hoped that the silent treatment from her would continue.
“Where’s your mask?”
I ignore her question as I put my towel on the lounger next to her.
“Sorry, that sounds like I think you’re ugly,” she says with a laugh. “I was just surprised. Why are you always wearing that thing?”
“Old habit,” I say, taking a deep drag from my cigarette. Ruby orders them for me, together with the groceries, knowing my brand after seeing me smoke one time. She’s so attentive, it’s horrible.
The smell of her coconut tanning oil or whatever it is invades my nose and I wonder how it would feel to run my hands over her body right now.
It’s goinggreat.
