Page 280 of Ruin Me Gently

I was already scrambling at the sheets, heart slamming into my ribs.

But he stopped, dead still. His breath hitched. His brows shot up. “Wait. No.”

He bolted.

“What the hell?!” I shrieked, throwing myself after him.

My foot caught in the comforter, and before I could do a damn thing about it, I was eating carpet, my shoulder smacking against the floor. “Ow, shit!”

I scrambled up, stumbling forward, barely catching my balance as I chased after him, blood roaring in my ears. “Silas! What’s going on?!”

I barely caught sight of him before he disappeared down the hall, bare-ass naked, sprinting like an Olympian athlete with a death wish. If it had been anyone else, I’d have caught the ick and fled.

“Fucking slow down, you lanky asshole!” I wheezed.

By the time I reached his office, heaving, covered in a sheen of panic sweat, he was already inside, eyes locked onto something on his desk.

That beeping—that goddamn, ear-piercing, migraine-inducing beeping—was coming from inside the room.

“Why the hell is it so loud?!”

“So it’d wake me up!” he snapped, fingers flying over his laptop keyboard.

I gawked at him, chest rising and falling like I’d just fought for my life. “Thanks for that, asshole!”

But he wasn’t listening. He was too focused, whole body coiled, locked, brimming with energy.

“Gotta go.” He spun on his heel and ran.

“What?!” I barely had time to react before he was out the door.

I stumbled forward, eyes catching on the laptop screen. The words glared back at me like a death sentence.

MATCH 98.7% PROBABILITY.

SUBJECT CONFIRMED.

CLARK ELIAS THORN.

Ohhh, fuck.

I went after him, feet slamming against the floor. “I’m coming!”

He whipped around so fast I almost crashed into him. His chest heaved, curls wild, eyes dark with warning. “You’re not.”

“I absolutely am.”

“No. You’re staying here.”

“I don’t fucking think so!”

“Lilith—”

“Nope. You are not leaving me behind. This is just as much mine as it is yours.”

His jaw ticked, fists clenched, looking like he was having a full-blown mental breakdown trying to decide whether to fight me on this or not. Like I was giving him a goddamn choice.

I tilted my chin up, staring him down, even though he must’ve had a solid eight inches on me and the upper hand in literally every way possible. I didn’t give a shit. I was daring him to tell me no again.

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