Page 96 of Wicked Little Game
“I was on the brink of death when my team found me. It’s a wonder I survived, probably God’s way of telling me I’m fucking dumb. Carla was long gone already. Later, we found out that everything about her was fake, not only her name. I felt like shit, not because she was gone, but because of the betrayal. Work suffered under this, so yes, you were kind of right when you said I was incompetent. Rockwell thought it would be a good idea to send me here. Probably didn’t think I’d fuck up again. Maybe it’s time for me to retire, who knows.”
“You’re notthatold, Sam,” Ruby says with a laugh thatsounds forced. I don’t know what got into me. She had an awful day and now I’m dumping even more horrible stuff onto her.
In a fit of God knows what, I pull her close, and she snuggles against me like this is just what we do, like all of this is normal.
This time, I’m the one fidgeting with the bracelets around her wrists. They are so tiny compared to my hand, and she feels so fucking fragile again, and I hate the situation we’re both in.
As if she wasn’t mostly at fault for it. Well, I have to hold myself accountable too. I could have ended this shit at least a hundred times before it spiraled into the mess we have at our hands now.
When she starts to shiver, I pull her up with me.
The whole way back to the house, she’s tense. She holds my hand but doesn’t speak a word. Thinking back, she barely said a thing the whole evening, and we still didn’t talk about the elephant in the room. Or the garden, whatever.
“Ruby,” I hold her arm, forcing her to stop before we get back to the house.
“Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?”
The light from the pool reflects on her face and I see how she swallows thickly.
“When you said you love me.”
She’s quiet for what feels like a fucking eternity, looking down on the ground. Something boils inside of me and I don’t know if the adrenaline from the whole day is coming out at once or if it’s something else, but I don’t like how it feels.
I grab her face, tilting it up so that she has to look at me. Her eyes are wet, as if she’s barely keeping herself from crying again, and I don’t understand a single thing right now.
“I’m sorry for saying it. I didn’t mean it.”
I should be happy. It should put my mind at ease to knowthat she doesn’t love me. That her nerves got the best of her this morning. That it won’t hurt her too much when I leave. It should be a good thing.
It means I can go back to base tomorrow and continue with my life just like I wanted to. Just like I promised myself.
But why do her words fucking hurt?
And why can’t I believe a single one of them?
“I was so nervous and it was all too much and I got overwhelmed and I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said it,” she forces out as tears run down her cheeks.
She’s lying. Or maybe I just hope she’s lying.
“Come here, dipshit,” I say softly, wiping the tears from her face before I pull her into a hug.
“We all say things we don’t mean when we’re in a situation like that. Well, most people don’t blurt out that they love someone, but hey, I always knew you were a weird one.” My hand is on the back of her head, holding her tight as I press her closer to my chest.
Too tight, apparently, because she tries to wriggle free, her voice muffled as she speaks up.
“Can’t breathe,” she says and I give her a bit more room.
“Please don’t kill me. I promise I won’t tell anyone about your psychotic ex.” She blinks away the tears in her eyes, putting her arms around my neck.
I feel like the biggest idiot on earth for leaving her behind, but it’s better this way. We both know it.
“But if you want to kill me, please suffocate me with your pecs. A wonderful way to go.”
She looks at me with that goddamn perfect face, a sad smile on her lips, and I almost do something stupid.
Like telling her I know she’s lying and that I love her and that even if she wasn’t lying, I don’t care if she feels the same because she’s fucking stuck with me forever.
