Page 21 of Ruthless Game

I shut my eyes, too, so my parents couldn’t see how distraught I was. I hated myself in that moment. Some people had more self-preservation, would choose themselves. But Jeffrey …

I had a home because of him. A life, because of him.

“We … do want to make up for lost time.” I choked on the lie.

Hurt filled my mother’s eyes. “You don’t want to spend time with us?” She looked at Lawson. “Just let us have a few nights with her.”

Lawson sighed. He was really putting on a whole show, wasn’t he?

“For you, I guess I can give up a night or two.” He turned me in his arms, staring down at me, and even though I’m sure to my parents it seemed sweet, I saw the threat in his eyes. Lawson was a trap I wasn’t going to get free of anytime soon. “After all, we have forever, don’t we, Starburst?”

I wanted to kill him in that moment. And maybe I would kill him. But for now, I forced myself to nod.

“Forever,” I repeated, my voice catching on a word that used to mean everything between us and now was nothing more than an ugly lie.

“Good!” My mom clapped her hands. “Let’s all have dinner together. And Lawson?”

“Yeah?” he asked, his eyes still on me.

“Thank you for bringing our daughter home. Thank you for bringing her back to us.”

Lawson blinked.

A look passed over his face, tight and troubled. Was it remorse? Did he feel guilty for what he was doing to me? For what he’d planned?

Whatever the emotion had been, it was gone as quickly as it had been there. Slowly, he brushed a curl behind my ear. I shivered from the touch and the contradiction between the gentleness of his fingers and the intensity of his eyes.

“Believe me,” he said. “It was purely selfish.”

Oh, I believed him.

7

Emma

Afew days later, I pulled on my swimsuit, studying myself in the locker room mirror. The girl staring back at me looked tired. Haunted. No wonder; I’d been sleeping like shit, dreams filled with Lawson’s angry eyes, running from him and getting nowhere. I touched the bags under my eyes, exhaling out all the tension and confusion around Lawson.

Once I’d gotten back to Gehenom, I’d immediately gone to the admissions office to sign up for courses related to my major and minor. It was almost too easy. What kind of strings had Lawson pulled to make my transfer process so smooth? And what kind of repayment would he expect for something I’d never even wanted in the first place?

When I met with my new advisor, she’d asked what sorts of extracurriculars I was interested in.

“I love to swim,” I’d offered.

“Well it may be late to try out for the team, but there are intramurals⁠—”

“Sorry, I should’ve explained better. I want to teach swimming.” Before she could ask, I said, “and I’m prepared to. I’m certified in first aid and water rescue. I was even a lifeguard in high school and at Oxford, and I’ve taught swimming before.”

Her face lit up, but when she asked why, I made some excuse about giving back. I wasn’t interested in telling her the real reason, not when she could be a spy and tell Lawson. He didn’t need that ammunition.

“Here to teach, or here to learn?” a girl next to me asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

I glanced over. She was tall, unlike me, curvy and round, like me, with hazel eyes and long, shiny, hair, so black it was almost purple. As she stuffed it into a swim cap, she smirked, something playful and almost mischievous in her eyes. Prankster, my brain supplied.

“Or here to ogle everyone in their bathing suits like a perv?” Her smirk grew. “I wouldn’t blame you, I saw some of them in their swim trunks, and whew.” She fanned herself. “Hotties with bodies.”

Past Emma would have blushed and stammered something, maybe even made an excuse and left. Cramps. Indigestion. Sorry, I died. But post-Lawson-breakup, Oxford Emma didn’t embarrass so easily.

“Teaching,” I said. “And I’m pretty sure I could get in some real shit if I got caught ogling the ‘hotties with bodies.’”