RUIN: Psychological Enemies-to-Lovers Thriller

Hey. I’ll go out in style. Opera, wine, and great steak. Better than being choked in a shitty hotel.

I finished my wine and swallowed down my oncoming death.

Now. . .I’ll just enjoy these last moments of my life. What else can I do?

All my life I’d feared death, and worried for the future. At least I didn’t have to fear or worry anymore. At least I no longer felt so damn anxious.

Cain grabbed the bottle off the counter. “Do you want another glass?”

“Yes, please.” Relishing in the pleasure of the moment, I finished my wine and handed my glass to him. Drops of the Shiraz trickled down my lip and chin.

Cain paused and watched me.

“Sorry.” I licked the drops off my lips and wiped my chin with my hand.

His gaze darkened.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have anymore.” I could feel the wine and marijuana spiraling within me. “Oh. . .it doesn’t matter. Does it?”

I’ll be dead by the morning.

“It doesn’t.” Cain poured wine into my glass and handed it back to me.

And there I enjoyed my wine while he cleaned up.

This was my last supper, and it was damn good.

I would have thanked Cain if he was not going to be my killer.

I guess there’s peace in this moment.

I often wondered how I would die. Would it be from choking on food or being run over? Would it be from someone creeping into my bedroom at night and stabbing me repeatedly? Would it be painful or would I die in my sleep? Would I be old and surrounded by grandchildren? Or would I die cold and alone in a dirty alley?

Now I know. My death will be. . .in some crazy-ass chapel in the woods.

I took a large gulp of my wine.

I never imagined this death, but it will do.

Cain picked up the remote control and pressed a button. New music came on. This time it wasn’t an opera. Simple bluesy instrumentals filled the air. This one was long, sad horns and dark piano.

He listens to everything.

After he wiped the bar, he yanked open a drawer and pulled out handcuffs.

Fuck. My time of calm is done.

My stomach twisted.

This is the moment. How will he do it?

It might have been a simple fix to just tell him Quin’s address. I wasn’t sure if that was true. My ex, Chris would have tortured the person for the address, got it, and still killed them. In that situation, I wouldn’t just be dead, Quin would be too.

That’s not fair. It wasn’t her dumb ass that decided to rob them. It was my choice, so I take the fall.

I could have tried to escape. But the sort of guy that kept an extra pair of handcuffs in the kitchen drawer was the type of guy to be prepared for my attempts to flee.

I bet it’s hard to get out of this fucking chapel.

In my life, I’d gotten out of sticky situations by waiting and seizing the right opportunity. None had presented themselves to me yet. If I’d tried to run in the shower, he would have caught me. Same with rushing for the front door that was probably electronically locked. He’d had to press some code to even open the door.

I thought I could wait this out, but I didn’t have the time.

My being the good prisoner allowed me special treatment—wine and a gourmet meal, a discussion on opera and a hot shower. For that, I was thankful to him and God.

He could have slung me in a cage. I was sure he had one. So far back in the woods and psychotic, he probably had a cage and more.

Yeah. This is definitely the sort of guy that has a cage.

“Stand up.” Cain walked over.

God, please help me.

I rose.

He stopped in front of me. “Take off the robe.”

Please, God.

Doing it, I inhaled and exhaled.

The robe fell to the ground.

Warm air brushed against my bare skin.

Cain licked his lips. “Are you sure you want to take it this far?”

“I could—”

“All I want is her address, Phoenix. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

I closed my eyes. “I can’t give you that.”

“Then I can’t let you be.” Cain strapped the cuffs on my wrists.

I opened my eyes and looked down at the cuffs.

To my shock, he pulled off his shirt next.

Oh no. Why is he taking off his clothes too? Is he going to rape me?

Of course, muscles stacked his chest and waist. They even layered his huge forearms and biceps. I spotted the bandage on his arm where I’d shot him.

I should have killed his ass. All three of them.

But I was no damn killer.

That’s what you get when you try to hang with the big boys.

I drank in the rest of Cain. Every inch of his body was defined and sculpted by strength. His jeans hung low, exposing the carved V. He was a God to behold.