Page 13 of Ruthless Game

More discomfort roiled inside me. A small voice piped up, warning me that hurting her this way was a mistake. It sounded like kid me. He clearly didn’t remember that gut-wrenching moment when I’d seen the video of her with someone else. This was nothing more and nothing less than Emma deserved.

“Whatever,” I said, and she released my arm like it had scalded her. I grabbed her wrist without thinking about it, like my skin needed her touch or it would shrivel up and die. That’s how addicted I was to Emma Schwartz, even after all this time.

Emma tried to tug away.

“There’s no need to touch me, Lawson. You’re safe now.”

I ignored the jibe. “There’s every need to touch you, Emma. It doesn’t matter how much I fucking hate you for what you did and who you turned out to be. I need to feel your skin like I need air to breathe. But don’t worry. I’m going to make sure that need goes away, even if I have to hurt you to do it.”

“You have no right⁠—”

I cut her off, tugging her closer and twisting her around until she was in my arms and I was staring down at her. I hated how good it felt to hold her.

“You’re going to want to learn this and quick: I don’t care if I have a ‘right.’ You destroyed me back then, and now it’s time to pay. Choose, Emma. Choose now. Because every time you fight back, I’ll fight back harder. Every time you resist, I’ll up the ante. What’s it going to be, your own selfish needs, or sacrificing for your family?”

Trapped against me, she straightened her shoulders and raised her chin. For a moment, I admired her and this strength she’d found. She was so different from the gentle, delicate Emma I’d once known, and had circumstances been different, I might have even told her so—told her I was proud of her.

“You destroyed yourself, Lawson, by not trusting me. Look at you right now, trying to intimidate a girl half your size. Using force against her, manipulating and blackmailing her to get whatever it is you want. The boy you were, the boy I knew, the boy I loved? He’d be sickened, seeing who he became.”

Anger poured out of me. I wanted to roar, but I controlled my voice, hot and tight. I thrust her away from me, telling myself I wouldn’t feel remorse as she stumbled and started to fall.

But as her arms pinwheeled backward, I couldn’t do it. At the last second, I grabbed her by the elbow, keeping her from crashing onto the sidewalk. My father got physical with people. I wouldn’t be him. Couldn’t hurt Emma in that way.

In other ways, I would.

Gripping her arm, I told her, “That boy is dead. You killed him.”

Her eyes dimmed, the light in them shadowed, and not just by the dark night. I almost hated myself for saying that. That boy in me wasn’t dead, although I wished he were.

Instead, I released her and walked away.

“Hurry up,” I called behind me. “Or I’ll pack for you—and I won’t include underwear.”

She scrambled after me, soft footsteps echoing. I could practically hear her seething in my head, feel the daggers she was throwing at me with her eyes. I smiled to myself, because an angry but trapped Emma provided all sorts of potential entertainment. I couldn’t wait to see what she tried next. Knowing she would fail? Well, that made me hard, too.

She was still lying, implying she hadn’t done what we both knew she’d done. She clearly still thought I’d fall for her manipulative bullshit.

She’d regret it.

“Are you going to thank me for the Starbursts?” I asked as we walked up the stairs to her flat.

She growled. It was cute.

“I’m not going to thank you for anything. How did you find me?”

I laughed. “You’re in England, not on the moon.”

“But—”

I glanced at her. She was chewing on her lip. She’d always done that when she had a thought she didn’t want to share.

“But what?”

She shook her head.

“But what, Emma?”

“But if you knew how to find me, why didn’t you …” she stopped, shaking her head, curls flying all over her face. “You didn’t want to. I knew that. Forget it.”