Page 88 of Played By Design

“That’s what I said.”

“And now you’re telling me he controls when you eat and sleep.”

“He doesn’t control it.” I clutch the workbook tighter. “He manages it.”

William goes still. “That’s not the distinction you think it is.”

I flip through the workbook again. “It is if you understand the mechanics.”

“I don’t think there should be mechanics.”

I frown at him in confusion. “Everything has mechanics.”

“Not this.” He tips his head toward Kain. “Not ones where somebody figures out how to get you to do what they want without your knowledge.”

My jaw clenches. “Kain takes care of me.”

“You just called him your Player.”

I tap the workbook again. “Because he is.”

“And what does that make you?”

The question grates across the raw place I only discovered tonight, and I hug the workbook to my chest.

William’s mouth tightens. “Okay. We’re getting out of this room.”

“No.”

“Just for five minutes.”

“No.”

“Reef, you haven’t eaten, you’re traumatized, Kain is unconscious, and what you found has you talking as if you’re a character he’s controlling.” He takes another step toward me. “Come into the hallway with me. We’ll get some food into you, and you can tell me what happened.”

I hook my feet around the legs of my chair and hunch down. “I’m not leaving Kain.”

William comes closer. “He’ll still be here.”

“No.”

“Come on.” He beckons me with open palms, as if I’ll believe he’s harmless. “I’m not asking you to go home.”

“I said no.”

Why is he pushing this? Even Kain listens when I say no and mean it.

William squares his shoulders. “I think you need some distance from him right now.”

A cold stillness washes through me. My fingers lock around the workbook’s cover. “What?”

“Not for forever. Just five minutes. Maybe ten. Long enough to let you calm down.”

“I am calm.”

“You’re calling an unconscious man your Player and clutching a notebook you say contains instructions for manipulating you.”

“It’s his user manual.”