Page 55 of Wanna Play A Game?

Sawyer grunts.

“I know you do. I want it.” He’s always messing with the phones of all our marks to throw the cops off our trail.

He looks up at me. “She threw it in a moving truck when I was tracking her with it. No, I don’t have it.”

I deflate. Fuck.

“But…” Sawyer leans back. “I did get a forensic download of it.”

Hope surges in me again. Of course he did. He’s good at this kind of thing. At one point, he hacked into mine and Ryder’s phone to drop us dick pics all day. And they weren’t of his dick, either.

Sawyer continues working. “Why do you want it?”

“Because,” I say. Because she’s fucked up, and I want to figure out why. Because I want to know what makes her tick. Whatmakes her happy. What her favorite food is. What made her mom leave.

Jesus. I sound like a lovesick puppy.

Sawyer looks at me like he can see right through me. Which, he usually can. I arch an eyebrow.

“Let me see it.”

“Why? You want to look at the texts between her and her ex?”

A sick feeling hits my stomach. “Who the hell is her ex?”

“Some loser. Who cares?”

Real, deep anger runs through me. I care. He fucking left her. She’s angry at the world in a way I’ve only seen Sawyer be. And I want to know why.

Sawyer sees me get pissed, and a glint of amusement fills his eyes. He’s riling me up on purpose.

“If you’re a good pup, I might show you.”

I arch an eyebrow. “What do you want?”

“A kiss.” Sawyer grins at me. Fuck, I love that smile.

“Always bargaining,” I mutter and lean to him. He licks his lips. I lower a kiss to his lips.

When I try to pull away, Sawyer grips the back of my neck and pulls me into him. He deepens the kiss, forcing my lips to part for him so he can sweep his tongue into me. My body reacts to him with sparks of electricity. I melt into Sawyer, and he groans. Fuck, why does toxicity taste so good?

Sawyer pulls away from me. “Goddamn, pup.” He licks his lips and looks at me with an open mouth. “You’re sinful.”

I flush.

“Here.” He goes back to his computer and pulls up a program. “You can see what was on her phone before I took her.”

I zone in on his computer. It looks like a bunch of screens and data. “I don’t know how to use this.”

“Here.” Sawyer grabs my hips and yanks me down into his lap. “What do you want to know about our little bunny?”

“Who the fuck is her ex?”

Sawyer chuckles and starts clicking. He brings up a text thread conversation. It takes me a bit to adjust to the formatting, but once I do, I take over the mouse and scroll. The longer I read, the more pissed I become. Who the fuck does this Ben think he is?

Ben: I’m so sorry, baby.

Ben: I didn’t mean it. You know not to get me riled up.