Page 8 of Wicked Little Game
Meanwhile, Ruby has to be well rested for the important task of watching TV for ten hours a day and annoying the shit out of me.
“James, please-,” she complains. She realizes quickly that I don’t have the slightest bit of sympathy for her and goes for a different approach.
“Come on, let me go out. I promise I’ll be back in two hours. Look, I’ll even let you track my location.”
I stand in the doorway, unmoving and silent. Maybe she gets tired once she argues for long enough.
“Fuck you. Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a goddamn annoying asshole?”
There we go.
“Shut up, kid.” I hope she doesn’t hear the “annoying little shit” I add under my breath. My jaw clenches beneath my mask as I widen my stance, my arms crossed in front of my chest.
Ruby looks over to me, gaze lingering on my elbows that touch the wooden door frame for a second, and then she chuckles. Something in her demeanor switches again and I have a feeling that this isn’t good.
“Stop calling me a kid, you gorilla. I’m 24, in case my father forgot to tell you. Makes this whole situation even more ridiculous.”
She rolls her eyes at me before she lets herself fall back on the mattress and stares at the ceiling. Her dress hitches up a bit, exposing too much of her thighs. It’s equally indecent as the one she wore yesterday.
Quickly, I look back at the wall. While the other rooms in this house could use more color, hers could use less. Or maybe it’s not the color that makes it chaotic, but her stuff that’s strewn around everywhere.
“I was supposed to go on a date.” She turns onto her stomach, her head propped up on her hands, as she looks at me with puppy eyes.
“Does the guy know about that date too, or did you plan on taking someone hostage to endure you?”
An upset huff comes from her and I don’t know why I’m so mean. It’s not like she wouldn’t deserve it, but I’m usually above such bullshit.
“There are enough guys that would gladly take me out on a date,” she says, her expression a bit sour.
“Sure.”
“So, can I go now? Please.”
“No. Do I need to spell it out for you? You. Are. Not. Allowed. To. Leave. This. House.”
“You know what? It’s fine.” She sits back up, leaning against the headboard while she looks straight at me.
“The guy is shit anyway. I don’t want to spend my time in a stupid restaurant, acting like I care for what he has to say while he orders a salad for me.”
“Ruby, I don’t care—”
“The last time I was on a date with him, he was done after two minutes. Can you believe that? What a fucking waste of time.”
It takes me a moment to process what she just said.
“Too much information,” I say, while I press my fingers against my throbbing temples. If there’s a mental image I did not need tonight, then it’s probably Ruby, splayed out underneath some guy.
“You’re a prude.”
The grin on her face grows even bigger. Like the fucking Cheshire cat.
“Go to sleep. You’re getting unpleasant.”
I hear her laughing as I close the door behind me with more force than necessary. I know I judged her for slamming them shut, but it just feelsgoodto do it.
It’s obvious that she hadn’t been shown boundaries by anyone in her life before. She’s not used to rules, or anyone being stern with her.
God, the things I’d give to drop her off at one of the rookie training sessions. They’d have her running through the woods with a fucking backpack that’s almost her weight while a choleric drill instructor lets his anger about his failed marriage out on her and the others. I would pay good money to witness this.
