Page 14 of The Game
My heart squeezes, and Teddy’s hand in mine gives two pulses, letting me know to ham it up. Bunching my brows together, I nod, bringing my shaking hand up for all to see. Blood paints my fingers and palm and wrist, dripping to the floor below. Dick’s eyes bulge before he goes ashen. Covering his phlegmy cough that I pray is a sign of cancer or some type of incurable disease, he backs away with a curt nod.
“Yes, dear. Get that patched up. I will see you tomorrow evening.”
He’s quick to leave, and Teddy releases me, moving to the wood to free his knives. Holding my bloodied hand to my chest, I turn to stare, unsure of what to do next, shocked that I was able to get out of the game so easily.
“What—”
“Go change,” he grunts, ripping a knife free without looking at me.
“Yeah, but what—”
His eyes flash to me, now dangerous, cutting. He jerks his chin in the direction of the changing rooms.
“Go change. I’ll meet you out back.”
Biting my lip, the only thing I can do is nod, frowning at him in my curiosity as I back away.
For the first time in months, something akin to hope flares to life in the shelter of my chest, and it has everything to do with him.
CHAPTER8
Tristan
The image plays relentlessly in my mind, over and over and over again without ceasing, without mercy. It’s almost dawn now, and yet all I can do is sit and stare out of the bay window, watching rivulets of rain race down the panes. Jameson is holed up in the office, and if the crashing and breaking of glass is any indication, he’s snapped, too. He’d better not fucking touch my whiskey, or we’ll have a real problem.
But I allow that sight to echo in my skull, allow it to push my exhaustion to the edges, for my fury is unrivaled, and the need to spill more blood is pressing.
Nick believes it was likely the Baptiste’s who hurt Ellie, but it wasn’t necessarily directed at him; there’s evidence they’ve been using his warehouses for months now to ship and traffic women, children. Shouldn’t surprise me, and I’m deplorably grateful for a new target, a new focus. All of my attention will be set on bringing in those who harmed her, Alice’s best friend. Ellie was so meek and shy, a bookworm who baked Jameson and I cupcakes for our birthday as athank youfor us letting her stay over so often.
Alice confided in us that she’d felt safer here since her father’s memory is slipping.
The thought clutches at my dead heart, awakening a beast inside of me that even I am not familiar with yet, one of vengeance and righteous fury. We have a lead on Alice now as well. After all these months of floundering, of guessing and blaming ourselves, we have one tenuous connection to her, and we will follow it ruthlessly.
Bringing Ellie’s rapists to Nick will just be an added bonus. He’s been very clear they are not to be harmed, but when have I ever followed any fucking rules?
Fisting my keys, I storm out into the garage and into my car, revving the engine and heading straight for where I know those fuckers usually hole themselves up. It doesn’t take long to set up in a spot where I am easily concealed. With the weather and later sunrises this time of year, darkness is my shield, and as I waver at the mouth of the alley, eyes trained on a plain, dark green door punched into a brick façade, I wait.
It doesn’t take long.
After thirty minutes, the door clangs open, the street otherwise empty. Even vagrants know to avoid this area of the city like the plague. If not, they go missing just as quickly as the prostitutes. Working for the Underworld organization, there are rules enforced by threat of torture and death, and as one of the top families, I am allowed to enforce the established rules. Those who seek to become part of that world pay for it dearly with secrets and blood, but some are still insane enough to grow greedy and make a mockery of the freedom found in such a society.
The Baptiste’s have been on my shit list for a long fucking time now.
But the man who stumbles out into the pale morning light isn’t one of the brothers. Squinting through the constant rain, I can just make out the cut of his jaw, his bald head, the tattoos lining the back of his neck. Recognition strikes my veins, and I step out before my mind can keep up with the desire to fucking end him.
A strong hand reaches from the darkness behind me and clamps over my shoulder, dragging me back as I turn and unsheathe my knife, aiming for his gut. Counteracting my move, he brings his knee up and shoves me away, creating enough space so that I don’t stab him. When my eyes adjust, my shoulders sag in relief but rise quickly in annoyance instead.
“Why are you here?” I spit in Russian. Maks steps back another pace, crossing his arms as he stares imperiously down his nose at me, that little smirk ever-present on his lips.
“You want your little toy—yourbabochka,da?”
The humor in his voice is flat; Maks has no emotions, no empathy. To watch someone one step away from being a psychopath attempt to sound normal is almost more chilling than watching him torture someone.
“She’s your family, too,” I snarl. He’s quick to roll his eyes.
“And so is Violet.”
A trace of fear touches the cobalt shade of his irises as his eyes crinkle in his glare. He has a point, but I cannot be everything to everyone at the moment. My focus needs to be Alice first, and since Ellie’s attack is connected, then my path is made clear.