Page 194 of Ruin Me Gently

I scrubbed a hand across my jaw, forcing down the pulse of rage. We needed to figure out where the hell he went—not just stand here, breathing in whatever the hell that smell was. So I moved. Fast. Tearing through the room, searching for anything he might’ve left behind.

Finn caught onto my mood and got to work too, moving toward the tiny desk, fingers flipping through a pile of crumpled receipts, wrappers, and motel pamphlets. “You know, I was expecting more… I dunno. Murder-y shit. Not this.”

“Just keep looking.”

I stalked toward the bathroom, shoving the door open. It was disgusting. Damp towels moulding in a pile in the corner, a broken disposable razor rusting on the sink, crusted toothpaste and water stains splattered across the mirror like it’d been spat on directly. No bags. No luggage. Only foul, lingering signs that he’d been here, but wasn’t anymore.

The second I turned back into the main room, Finn lifted a tattered backpack off the floor.

“Bingo,” he said with a grin, unzipping it and dumping the contents onto the bed. A few crushed, empty packs of smokes, a few receipts.

His face dropped. “Oh. Maybe not bingo.”

“Seriously?” I muttered, raking a hand down my face. “That’s it?”

“Oh, wait—” Finn snatched up one of the receipts, squinting at it. His brows shot up. “Oh shit, there’s one here. Gas station, yesterday. Down the road. Wanna check that out?”

I pulled my phone from my pocket, snapping a quick photo of the other receipts, just in case. Never knew what might come in handy.

“Oh, hell no.” Finn jerked backward, knocking into me. “Fucking roaches!”

My phone hit the corner of the nightstand, bounced, then slammed into the floor—screen-side down. Hard.

Finn winced. “Shit.”

I gritted my teeth, then bent down, flipping the phone over. The screen was completely shattered.

“Okay, so—bright side? It’s just a phone.”

I exhaled through my nose. “Yeah.”

“You’re really pissed, huh?” He glanced at it, then at me, then back at it. “You know, for a guy with more money than God, you’d think you’d have a better phone.”

“I don’t like switching devices.”

“Yeah, no shit. That thing’s what? Five years old?”

“Six.”

“Six years. Damn. What, you got some sentimental attachment to it?”

I rolled my shoulders, slipping it back into my pocket even though it was entirely useless now. “I don’t like new software updates.”

He barked out a laugh. “You realise that’s completely stupid, right? We literally own a company that develops software. And yet you refuse to use a phone made in the last year or so because you ‘don’t like updates’?”

“Finn.”

“Yeah?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

I tried to push the irritation down, tried to remind myself itwasjust a phone. But it wasn’t. It was my only way of staying connected to Lilith. I’d left her alone at the penthouse and now I had no way of knowing if she was okay—if she needed me.

“Can we leave the roach palace now? I feel like I need a full-body disinfectant shower after stepping foot in here.” Finn said, scuffing his shoe against the threadbare, rotten carpet.

I turned on my heel and left the room, shoving the gas station receipt into my pocket as I went. We walked back through the lobby, and I tossed the room key onto the counter without stopping. Friar Tuck muttered something under his breath, but I was already out the door, stepping into the cold air.

“Alright, so, gas station next?” Finn asked as we crossed the parking lot.

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