I look down at my hands, covered in Oli's blood. My breathing comes in ragged gasps.
"Let me go," I snarl, still struggling against his iron grip.
"Not until you calm the fuck down," he says, his voice low and controlled. "You're about to beat that bitch to death."
I look past him to where Oli lies moaning on the floor, blood pooling beneath her head, smeared across the polished wood.
"She deserved it," I say, my voice eerily calm now. "She was saying things about you."
Ramsey's grip loosens slightly, but he doesn't let go. "What things?"
"Doesn't matter." I shake my head, suddenly aware of how I must look covered in someone else's blood, and wild-eyed. "She shouldn't have said your name."
Something flashes in his eyes—possessiveness, hunger, surprise—I can't tell which. His thumb brushes over my cheekbone, coming away red with the dumb bitch’s blood.
Ramsey's eyes darken as he stares at his thumb. Then his gaze shifts to me, something flickering across his face. Before I can say another word, he crushes his mouth against mine, tasting like peppermint. His fingers tangle in my hair, tugging just hard enough to make me gasp against his lips.
When he pulls back, his pupils are blown wide. "My little fucking bruiser," he murmurs, voice rough with something that sounds like pride. "Never thought you had that in you."
I'm breathing hard, blood still pounding in my ears. "No one talks about you like that."
He glances over at her crumpled form. She's still breathing—barely—making these pathetic little whimpering sounds. His face hardens into something cold and calculating.
"I'm gonna take care of this," he says, pulling his phone from his pocket. His fingers fly across the screenbefore he puts it to his ear. "Penn? Yeah, I need you to come get Reese from the dance studio. Now. There's been…a situation."
I grab the phone from his hand before he can say anything else. "No, you don't, Pennywise," I snap into the receiver. "I'm staying with Ramsey, but thanks though." I hang up without waiting for a response and hand the phone back to Ramsey.
"What the fuck?" he growls, looking at me like I've lost my damn mind.
"I did it," I say, crossing my arms over my chest, Oli's blood drying sticky on my skin. "I don't need my brother-in-law to come babysit me while you clean up my mess."
Ramsey sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "Baby, please just do this for me."
"No." I plant my feet wider, making it clear I'm not budging. "I'm not a fucking idiot. She's barely alive and she can't stay alive, so you're gonna do my dirty work for me and kill her and make her disappear. There’s no way you let her live and have that come back on me. I freaking know you."
His eyes widen fractionally, the only sign he's surprised by my bluntness. "Christ, Reese. You don't know what you're asking."
"I know exactly what I'm asking," I say, stepping closer to him. I can feel Oli's blood drying on my face, tacky and tight.
Then his lips curl into a smile that's equal parts admiration and something darker. "Look at you," he says softly. "All grown up and orchestrating hits."
"Is that a yes?" I ask, holding his gaze.
He steps closer, cupping my face in his hands. "You have no idea what we’re about to do."
"I know exactly what I'm getting into," I say, holding his stare, refusing to back down.
"You're not gonna let this go no matter how much I beg, are you?" he finally asks, his voice low and gravelly.
I raise an eyebrow, crossing my arms over my chest. Blood has dried under my fingernails, flaking off in little crimson chips.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," he mutters, shaking his head. "Glad I brought the fucking truck. I was planning on bending you over the tailgate, but guess we'll play clean up crew and then you can make it up to me after."
My stomach does a weird flip at his words, heat pooling between my legs despite the fucking morbid situation we're in. Something must show on my face because his eyes darken even more.
"Stay here," he commands, then looks around the room. He grabs a rolled-up yoga mat from the corner and brings it over to Oli's still form. With practiced efficiency that I probably should find disturbing, he wraps her inside it, securing the ends with some resistance bands from a nearby shelf.
"Go get whatever cleaning supplies they have here," he orders, his voice strictly business now.
