One day, when I met someone else, Ramsay would always be walking around knowing these things about me, even as I gave them to another man.
It was disconcerting and one of the reasons it was harder to “just get over it.”
My hands curled around the vanity, and I sucked in a big breath, letting it out in a shaky exhale. “You can do this,” I whispered.
Striding out, I walked into the kitchen and found the cupboard where Ramsay kept shopping bags. I took one and began putting all my stuff into it. In the bathroom, I searched for my perfume, the one thing I’d really wanted back. It was expensive and I didn’t have another bottle at Taran’s.
It wasn’t there. I could have sworn I’d left it there.
Forcing myself to, I walked out into the bedroom, avoiding the bed itself.
There.
On Ramsay’s bedside table was my perfume, sitting on the paperback I’d been in the middle of reading. I hadn’t left either of them there.
Confused, I slowly made my way over, staring down at them.
Why was my perfume and book onhisbedside table?
Emotion clogged my throat.
Did that big asshole miss me?
No.
He … if Ramsay wanted me back, he’d have said something by now.
Or would he?
I didn’t know what the man was hiding from me, but was it enough to make him push me away?
He hadn’t slept with the folk singer … Was it guilt … or was it that he didn’t really want her?
Why did it matter?
In my frustrated anger, I reached for the perfume too fast and knocked it over the back of the bedside table. I winced as it clattered to the floor but thankfully didn’t smash. Grumbling, I dumped the shopping bag on the bed and leaned a hand on the wall behind the table to reach down the crack between it and the furniture. Not quite able to reach it, my hand slid down the wall for balance and landed on the wall light. The weight caused the wall light to flex downward and I let out a little cry of dismay, thinking I’d broken it.
But then …
A creaking sound brought my head up as a draft of cool air hit me. I gaped in shock.
The wall beside the light had opened.
Opened like a freaking door.
I straightened, a million questions and thoughts running through my head.
Of course, curiosity got the better of me, and I found myself pushing the wall open farther. The movement hit sensors and light spilled into the secret room.
Ramsay had a secret …warroom?
I stepped into it, my breathing heavy as my heart raced.
There was a bank of three computers that suddenly lit up with images of forestry, coastline, and the clearing outside. Sucking in a breath, I moved toward them, my gaze bouncing between the screens that had split views.
Of Stòr.
There were cameras all over the island.
