Page 188 of Captive Ruin

So he’s been planning this for a while. And he’s been thinking of me while he was busy killing people or whatever it was he was doing. I’m not sure how I feel about that.

“I’m not interested so far,” I tell him. “I might be if I knew where we were going.”

“Nice try, but you didn’t guess.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re the worst, do you know that?”

“I’m taking that as a compliment.”

We drive in silence for a few minutes while I fidget in my seat. “It was a shit clue anyway,” I mutter. “It could be anything.”

“Here’s another one,” he says, letting his hand fall naturally onto my leg. “It’s loud.”

I pick his hand up with finger and thumb, and press it to the steering wheel. My skin tingles beneath my jeans, like I can still feel his touch. I ignore it. “Music?”

“No.”

“I don’t know why I’m playing your stupid game.”

“Because cats are naturally curious.”

I was slightly curious; now I’m not. “I’m not a goddamn cat.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he says with far too much enjoyment. “You wander in like a little stray, you’re as fierce as a tiger, and you enjoy being pinned down by the scruff of your neck.”

I glower at the road, ignoring him as my cheeks heat.

He glances across at me. “What else is loud?”

“An art auction,” I mutter. Everyone clamoring their bids. The gavel banging. The crowd humming. I’ve always thought they were pretty loud.

“Is it? Interesting. Would you like to go?”

Actually, I would. They’re fun and full of energy, and I miss that life. “I’m not dressed for it.”

“Another day?”

I squirm in my seat, torn between wanting to say yes and not giving him the satisfaction.

“I’ll add it to the list,” he says. “And no, it’s not an art auction.”

“Okay, that’s enough. You’re aggravating.”

“And you’re beautiful. Giving up so soon? I didn’t take you for the quitting type.”

I sigh in exasperation, ignoring the beautiful comment. “Your clues are shit.”

“Here’s another. Something that requires your full attention.”

I roll my eyes. “That could be anything.”

He grins at the road, his rarely-seen dimples making an appearance. “All right. Last one. It’s an idea I’ve had for a while, after you showed an interest but a lack of finesse.”

“That’s insulting.” What the hell could it be? “A racetrack?” No, it doesn’t fit; he’s never seen me drive.

“It’s not, but I’ll add it to the list.”

Fuck my life.