Page 52 of Claimed By Ruin

“Duly noted,” I said.

“Asia,” Jack said, his voice quiet.

“What?” I asked.

His gaze burned into mine. “You’d better know what you’re doing.”

I wanted to laugh, but was worried I’d start to cry if I did. Because Jack of all people should have known I had no fucking clue what I was doing.

All I could do now was hope for the best.

FIFTEEN

Asia

“So what’s the play?” Jack asked.

He wouldn’t let this go. The walk back to the house after setting up the next watch shift was peaceful. Now I felt anything but.

But Jack didn’t control my moods, or the decisions I made for this farm. Those I made for myself.

I took off my boots, pulled out my favorite pajamas, which consisted of a pair of way too small satin shorts that I’d left after a visit while I was in college, and a white tank top that had definitely seen better days.

As I pulled out the pajamas, I thought back to my dresser at home. Right now, the few clothes I had lived in a plastic storage tote.

But that dresser…I’d obsessed over it for ninety painstaking days. By the time I’d finally bought it, the store manager knew me by name.

I wondered what happened to that dresser.

“I’m talking to you,” Jack said.

I glanced at him, frowned, then went back to what I was doing. The pajamas were out, so I checked the clean clothes that I still had, dreading laundry. I grabbed a pair of socks tucked at the bottom, and⁠—

“Asia, this is serious,” he said.

“Well, let’s talk then, Jack,” I said. I turned and faced him, but didn’t look in his eyes.

“So answer the question. What’s the play?” He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. Casual at first glance, or as casual as Jack could ever be. But those eyes…

“And why are you asking me what the play is?” I asked.

“You’re the one who decided to let a stranger onto the farm.”

“And you’re the one who led him here.”

He dropped his arms, his eyes narrowing. “Do you think this is a fucking game?”

“No, Jack, I don’t think it’s a game.” I stood there, a foot and a half away from him, the distance between us, the space between planets. “So what’s the play? Why are you asking me?”

“Why do you think I’m asking you, Asia?” Jack said. His arms were still at his sides, his hands curled into fists.

I smiled. I had never seen Jack quite like this. “Are you trying to suggest you’re asking because what I think matters?” I started to pace, but made myself stop. “Because you’re following my lead?”

“I am following your lead. It’s your farm.”

“It’s my uncle’s farm,” I corrected.

“Sure,” he said. “So what’s the play?”