Page 7 of He Had It Coming

That unsteady up and down of motion sickness hit me now. I didn’t even know if we were sailing or sitting still, but I could feel the rolling in my stomach.

I refused to throw up in front of her. To show any weakness. My brain told me to lean in, let her think I needed help, then strike. But my ego kicked and fought. I’d get free and destroy her without whining about it. Quiet her for good.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I forced the question out.

“Just needed to set the ground rules.”

I was already sick of her spewing. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t get to pretend you’re the victim. Ever.”

I attempted to lift my hand again and heard the wood creak and strain in response. “Look at me. I’m tied down against my will. What would you call that?”

“Fitting. Justice.” She shrugged. “My turn at being in charge.”

This woman was exhausting. “Get on with it then.”

“We’re going to play a game.”

“You’ve got—”

“No.” She put her finger against her lips. “Shhh. The adult in the room is talking.”

Honestly, it was a miracle some unlucky bastard hadn’t run across her path and put her in her place by now. Looked like that job fell to me. “You need help. Like, serious help.”

She snorted. “I wonder who made me this way.”

Nope. I was not taking on her misdirected guilt for whatever this was. I shifted to ease the ache in my neck and a new shot of pain had my right eye blinking shut.

Okay, I got it. Limited movement. Patience. If she could be reasoned with, which seemed like a long shot, I’d try that, too. “Tell me what you want.”

“That’s better.” She sat down again. Right across from me on those steps. “All those years of etiquette lessons or whatever you did in that fancy private school of yours before heading to NYU paid off.”

Her voice sliced across my nerves. “Just say it already. I’d like to get this over with and return to the real world. You can get back to whatever it is you do when you’re not posting lies on the internet.”

She smiled. The look, so feral, so calculating, telegraphed her disdain. “You’ll have to earn the right to end the game.”

I refused to drag this out by asking questions.

“There’s exactly one rule,” she explained. “You give me a convincing reason why you deserve to live and I’ll let you go.”

She was worse off than I thought. “You have to be kidding.”

“No. It’s simple.” Her smile grew even wider. “If you fail, you die.”

Chapter Eight

The Truth About Jerek Hayes

She was nineteen. He was twenty-one.

Jerek had been overindulged his entire life. Never told no. Never denied. Lazy. Unimpressive. Entitled.

He was raised to hide his pathetic and needy nature under a thick layer of bravado. Placated and assured he was perfect and deserving even though any hope of greatness remained woefully out of reach for him.

His friends joked about him striking out with Ruby at the bar. They laughed at him when she turned him down. Asked if he was losing his edge. Made him feel as small and useless as he actually was.

Little did they know their jokes fueled Jerek’s anger, making Ruby a target.