Page 185 of Ruin Me With Lies
Not sure when the hell it happened, butfuck…I amin lovewith this girl.This thorn in my side.This liar.This curse.This walking complication.I’m fucking in love with—
She moves first.And that snaps me out of it.
Eyes locked on her, I take off weaving through the crowd, ignoring the curses and dirty looks every time I bump someone or step on a toe.I won’t lose her again.
But she’s movingtowardme, not away, cutting through the crowd with ease.She’s not frantic like I am.Not reckless.She’s calm.Controlled.
We’re so close, but still so far away.Why the hell did I pick a spot so damn far?
Just a few more feet…
But then, she stops.Looks left.Her face twists into something between fear and fury as she shakes her head and mouths, “No.”
Confused, I look to the left, scanning, but notice nothing alarming or threatening.
By the time I swing my attention back to her, she’s lunging forward.But right at that moment, a red tram slices between us.
The damn thing takes forever to pass.
When it finally clears...she’s gone.
No, no, no, no...Fuck!
Scanning wildly, I spin in place.“RAYA!”
Gone.She’s fucking gone.
Out of nowhere, a van screeches up and doors fly open.Two men rush out, grab me and wrestle me inside.
It all happens so fast.Splitting seconds.I don’t even have a chance to—
Something’s slammed over my nose and mouth and…
Darkness.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Stefano
I WAKE UPINan unfamiliar room.
White, clinical, windowless.A camera mounted in the ceiling.
My head’s fogged, but I manage to stand and cross to the door to test it.It’s unlocked.On the other side is a long, narrow hall.No one in sight.Cameras everywhere.
Muffled voices tug me left down the stark white corridor.It feels endless, but eventually opens into a dome-shaped room.Also white and utilitarian, futuristic even.
A lounge, apparently, judging by the pool table, mini golf setup, and grand piano.
To the left, adjacent to the piano, two men sit at a table playing a game of chess.One’s back is to me—broad shoulders, short graying hair.The other, facing me, is stocky with ruddy cheeks.
“Who—” I try, but my mouth’s bone-dry.
“Is that you, Desert King?”asks the man with his back still turned.
The ruddy-faced bastard chuckles.Neither of them look at me.
“Leave us,” the older man says.“Have the kitchen fix him a robust meal.”
