Page 175 of Wanna Play A Game?
Sawyer can go fuck himself.
Ugh, Sawyer. My heart cramps. He thinks I hate him. I never got to tell him thank you for Halloweiner. And I never will.
Tears well in my eyes for the thousandth time this week.
I blink angrily. Jesus fucking Christ, Cali. What the hell is your problem?
I’ve researched Stockholm religiously. It’s what I have. Clearly. Right?
I reach up to feel for the collar again, knowing it isn’t there. It feels like part of me is…missing. It’s for the best. Ryder said I wasn’t part of his family.
Flashbacks from the nightmare I’ve had every night this week hit me. Sawyer is chasing me through the dark, screaming that he hates me. That I betrayed him.
I break out in a clammy sweat, sliding into the stool at the bar. There are a few other people here.
“Can I get you something?” The middle-aged bartender asks.
“Um, yeah.” My hands are shaking. Fuck. I sit on them. “Wine, please. Anything red.”
“You got it.”
He slides a glass over to me. I slide back my payment and grab it to have something to do with my hands.
I need it. I really need this drink. My stomach churns at the thought of drinking it. An irrational voice pops in my head: Sawyer would be disappointed.
Fuck. Stop thinking about them. They were assholes, remember? Assholes who gave you no choice and traumatized you.
Who cared about you and protected you in a way no one else has before.
I watch the bartender serve some others their drinks. He barely rinses the glasses out, turning them over on sticky counters. Ryder would hate it.
A middle-aged man keeps throwing me glances from the other side of the bar. He looks average, like every other worn-down businessman on a trip. He smiles and waves at me. At first, I want to ignore him, but then I force myself to react. I’m here for a distraction. I need a distraction.
So when the man slides over, and I feel nothing but annoyance, I stamp it down.
“Hey. This seat taken?”
“Nope.” I clench my glass and give him a small smile, then look out over the rest of the bar.
“In town for business?” the man asks.
Oh fuck. What do I say? “Uh, yeah. You could say that.”
He gives me a genuine smile. “What do you do?”
Suddenly, I feel jittery. I already hate this fake ass conversation. It pops out before I can stop it, “Hairdresser.”
I swallow. Is that what new Callie will do?
“Oh. Cool.” The man takes a sip of his beer. “I work for Amix.”
I give him a blank look. His eyes are brown and dull.
He chuckles. “Oil company.”
“Oh.” Someone kill me now. I glance over the room again.
“You looking for someone?” He turns to check over his shoulder.
