Page 38 of Ruin Me
“You do know I have zero clue who he is, right? Like literally. If he walked in here, I wouldn’t recognise him. What makes you think he’ll care if you’ve taken me? He didn’t care when he walked out on me before I was even born.”
He nods, eyes cold and calculating. “Oh, he cares, bitch. But every empire falls. Yours will be no different. Crestmont, The Crowned Syndicate—they’ll all crumble, and we’ll be there to pick up the pieces.”
“Good luck with that,” I say, but my mouth is dry. They mean business, and they’re not afraid to get their hands dirty.
“Let’s see how long that bravado lasts,” Gravels warns, a cruel edge to his smile.
“I’m not just some pawn you can bargain with. I’m nobody,” I spit out.
Their laughter echoes off the walls, but I don’t flinch.
My breath hitches, the cold edge of a blade presses against my cheek, just under my eye. I freeze, every muscle tensed, but inside, I’m all fire and fight.
“Still think you’re not a pawn?” Gravels’ sneer is inches from my face, his grip around my throat tight enough to warn, not enough to choke. His eyes are hard, gleaming in the dim light like a predator’s.
The taste of fear is bitter on my tongue, but I won’t let it control me. This room, these chains—they’re just another obstacle. My mother taught me to tackle them head-on, one at a time, never backing down.
My mother who lied and went behind my back. But still, she knew what she was talking about when it came to surviving.
“Watch your mouth, girl,” Sharpie warns, pacing behind Gravels like an anxious shadow. He’s nervous, I can tell by the jittery energy rolling off him. But Gravels is a stone—cold and remorseless.
“Or what? You’ll kill me?” I challenge, locking my jaw, ready for whatever comes next. “That would ruin your grand plan, wouldn’t it?”
Sharpie’s eyes narrow, the threat in them as clear as the blade he wields. The metal glints, a sliver of danger so close I can almost feel its bite.
“Maybe we just need to soften you up a bit,” he murmurs, tilting the knife so it catches the light, casting shadows across his face.
“Go to hell,” I manage, even as my heart races. Panic is not an option—not if I want to get out of this alive.
“Enough,” Sharpie suddenly interjects, grabbing Gravels’ arm. “We got what we came for; let’s not screw this up.”
“Fine.” He pulls back, sheathing the knife somewhere I can’t see. “But if she tries anything?—“
“She won’t,” Sharpie cuts him off, but then he pauses, his gaze shifting to something beyond my line of sight. “Get some rest, Vogue,” he says mockingly. “You’ll need it.”
22
VOGUE
My wrists burn.They’ve been rubbing against the cold metal of these cuffs long enough to leave bloody welts that sting, bringing tears to my eyes. I tug again, more out of stubbornness than any real hope it’ll make a difference. The room is all shadows and grime, the only light flickering from a bulb that’s seen better days. I can feel the bass from the music overhead vibrating through the concrete floor into my bones.
Am I in some sort of club?
“Look at her struggling,” one of the guards chuckles, his eyes fixed on me with something hungry in them. “Cute.” Gravels and Sharpie have been relieved of guard duty, so these two new fuckers are ugly and slimy and way more creepy than the other two. I wish they would come back.
“Pathetic, if you ask me,” the other one adds. He stands up, stretches like he’s bored out of his mind, and saunters over. His comrade follows, both of themnow looming over me like vultures circling prey. My heart thumps with fear, anger and something else I can’t quite put my finger on.
“Please,” I spit out the word like it’s poison. “You really think I’m scared of you two idiots? Which one is Pinkie, and which is the Brain?”
With a swift motion, he raises his hand and backhands me across the face. I feel the sting of his palm against my cheek, but it pales in comparison to the boiling anger that simmers in my soul.
I won’t let these assholes see how much they’re getting to me. Mum taught me to stand tall, no matter what life throws at me, and I’ll be damned if I crumple now.
“Your spirit’s gonna break, pretty, “ the first guard taunts.
I glower at him. “You clearly don’t know a thing about me.”
“Guess we’ll find out soon enough,” the second guard spits out, leaning over me, his fingers fumbling with the hem of my shirt. He has a nasty grin as he rips it open, the sound of tearing fabric echoing ominously in the small space.
