Page 53 of Ruthless Game

“Thought you were some girl from one of my history classes I was into at the time,” I lied, like it didn’t matter—like she didn’t matter. “But it was you who said you can tell when I’m in a room without even seeing me, right? Sorry it doesn’t go both ways.”

She visibly deflated in front of me, the hope in her eyes dimming. I thought I’d feel satisfied, hurting her and protecting myself, but all I felt was guilt. Fuck, I was an asshole.

Jack was shaking his head, like he was disappointed in me. And Aviva looked troubled. But it was Asher who spoke up.

“Cruel and unnecessary,” he said, a gleam in his eyes I couldn’t read. “But if you care that little, I’m happy to take pretty little Emma off your hands.” He raised his chin at her. “What do you think, sweetie? Want to experience what it’s like with a real⁠—”

I was dragging him off the couch by the neck of his t-shirt before he could finish his sentence. Even if he was fucking with me, trying to get a rise out of me, I was still going to kill him. Asher had about two inches and fifty pounds on me, but I was powered with rage and possessiveness, and the adrenaline in my veins made turning both of us and slamming him against the wall almost easy.

Well, that, and the fucker didn’t even fight me.

“Don’t you touch her. Don’t you look at her. She’s mine, you jackass, and you know it.”

Behind me, Emma gasped. Asher just grinned.

“That’s what I thought, dumbass,” he said. “Not so casual about her after all, are you?”

I’d had enough of this shit. I needed to regain some control, and I knew exactly how to do it.

Poor Emma’s pussy was going to be collateral damage in all of this.

Shoving away from Asher, I went to the couch where Emma was sitting and hoisted her up and over my shoulder in a fireman’s hold.

“What the hell, Lawson,” she complained into my back, but when she tried to kick me, I subdued her by wrapping my arm around her legs.

“Have fun, you two,” Judah called as I made my way upstairs with my girl, two steps at a time.

As soon as I got to my bedroom, I slammed the door shut and locked it. And then, feeling paranoid about those fuckers downstairs, I shoved a chair under the doorknob to make sure we were really secure.

No one was coming in.

And no one was going out.

“Lawson, will you put me down?”

“Sure,” I said, with an ease I didn’t feel, making my way to the bed and dropping her on it.

She bounced, hair fanning out behind her head over my covers, and I swore the whole, dingy, boring ass room began to glow from her presence alone. The scent of lavender filled the room.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful. You make everything so beautiful.” The words were guttural, ripped out of my chest.

She blinked.

“Lawson, what the hell happened downstairs? What the hell has been happening with you, period? You claim you don’t care, but you almost ripped your friend apart for pretending to flirt with me. You act like you never thought about me, but you apparently chased me around campus last year. You say this is just about fucking me so you move on, but you call me …” she swallowed, “… yours.”

Sitting up, she rolled onto her knees, staring up at me, and it didn’t matter that I towered over her, it felt like she had all the power.

“So tell me, Lawson. Which is it? Am I some inconvenient loose thread you want to cut? Someone to use and discard to get to what you really care about? Or do I actually matter? Because if it’s the latter …” she stared at me, not backing down, a goddess about to cast judgment on the poor mortal who dared to fuck up her temple, “… if it’s the latter, then I deserve a fucking apology and a promise to do better going forward. Choose now, Lawson. Because there’s no going back after this.”

My heartbeat jackhammered in my ears. My vision went blurry. Every muscle in my body seized.

Panic attack, my brain offered distantly.

Because if I told her she mattered, if she did matter, then all she would do was hurt me again, leave me again. Everything horrible that had happened the night I’d found out she’d fucked everything else ….

Hands on my zipper, giggles, lips where I didn’t want them.

No.