Ruin & Rule

Because I prefer to deal with the devil I know rather than the one I don’t.

“I don’t have to answer that. It’s not me with a gun pointed at their head.”

“No, but it soon will be,” he muttered under his breath.

I skirted around him, careful to stay out of reaching distance. His green eyes followed me, never letting go. My skin prickled; my heart raced. When he looked at me like that—as if I were the only thing of importance in this world—the bond inside stretched and strengthened.

Who was he?

He played havoc with my willpower—my common sense. Everything I knew I should do seemed out of the question until I found out if we knew each other.

It couldn’t all be in my mind. Could it?

You’re willing to give up freedom—a long and happy life—all because you need reassuring that you somehow know him?

I shook my head. The questions were drowning me. I couldn’t focus on what I was giving up, only on what I hoped to gain.

“Will you take my deal or not?”

He scowled. “Doesn’t look like I have a fucking choice, does it?”

I shook my head again, my arm starting to ache with the weight of the pistol, revolver, whatever I held. “No. Not unless you want to bleed out all over your office floor.”

He chuckled breathlessly. “That would give the cleaning lady something to talk about.”

“I thought you said you live alone?” Nervousness attacked my legs, making me inch toward the door again.

He rolled his eyes, wincing. “I do. She comes twice a week.”

“And there’s no one else who might interrupt us?”

“Unless you mean the business meeting I have in a few days, then no. Nothing. You’re safe to fucking murder me and make your getaway before the sun’s up.”

I ignored that and moved to sit in one of the office chairs. Resting the gun on my knee, I said, “Okay, first question. Where are we?”

He groaned. “Seriously? What do you want? A map? Coordinates? We’re at my home. I told you.”

I bounced the gun on my leg. “No. I understood that part. Where are we? What town? What country?”

The room went deathly silent. His head rose from the tiles, his skin white as a ghost. “What?”

I swallowed. I hadn’t realized that by asking such basic questions, it would show my weakness in return.

What can he do? So what you lost your memory? He doesn’t want to know about you anyway. It doesn’t make you any more vulnerable or easier prey.

I might even be stronger because my secrets were safe—no matter how much I wished to know them.

I leaned forward in the chair, letting my red hair cascade over my shoulder. The waves were thick—the ends a little straggly.

“Answer me. The longer this takes, the less your chances are of me actually being able to heal you without a doctor.”

Kill clenched his jaw. Finally, he said, “The Florida Keys.” Rolling his eyes, he added, “You know. America?”

I froze. America? So I’m an American? My accent didn’t sound like it. Maybe they’d stolen me from another country and brought me here?

“And where did your men kidnap me from?”

“No fucking clue. I don’t micromanage. They had orders for five girls—they came back with six.” He shrugged, flinching. “I don’t ask for a report. I trust my guys—even if they can’t count.”

“What will happen to the other girls?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t turn all tenderhearted on me. You’re in charge right now. The minute you start making demands of me to let them go or have fucking mercy, that’s where it all ends. Their fates were sealed months ago, before they even knew we were coming. Pretend you never saw them, because that’s the best you can do for your little conscience.”

I clasped the gun harder, my finger stroking the trigger. “Fine. We’ll come back to that. How long do I have before you find a buyer for me?”

His nostrils flared. “You ask the weirdest fucking questions. How about where’s your phone? What’s the number to dial the local police station?” He struggled to sit up, his legs splayed in front of him, blood blazing bright on the white floor from where he’d been lying. “Don’t you care you’re mine? Don’t you care that I’m about to sell you? What the fuck are you still doing here asking me questions that have no fucking point?”

He pointed behind him. “Stop waving a gun in my face, and leave. You’ll have a pretty good head start before I can get off my sorry ass and chase you.”

My eyes flew to the door. The temptation fired my blood, sending adrenaline into my legs. I stood up, pointing the muzzle at his chest.

He smiled coldly. “There you go—a normal reaction. Run from me, sweetheart. This is your one and only chance.”

I inched toward the door, my fear growing thick and fast the closer I got to the exit.

It wasn’t fear at leaving or running half-naked through streets, or even calling the police to come and find me, it was the thought of leaving with yet more mysteries strewn behind me.

Planting my feet on the tile, I gathered my scattered courage.

Ask him. The one question you want answering.

My heart tripped over itself. I desperately wanted to know but desperately didn’t at the same time. Either answer threatened to ruin me, just in different ways.

Kill glared. “What the hell are you still doing here?” He pointed at the door. “Go, goddammit.”