Page 107 of Play The Game

“He’s fucking pathetic. He knows he can’t take any of us in a fair fight so he’s going after shit he thinks will hurt. Well, fuck him. The car is important, but it’s just a fucking car. Ash and Avery mean more to me. He’s just proving how fucking weak he is,” he murmurs, and I wonder if he’s explaining it to me or trying to convince himself.

I squeeze his hand and smile up at him, trying to lighten the mood. “Remember you’re fucking loaded now and you can get it fixed. Or buy a new one.”

He scoffs at me. “I don’t want a new one. Morrison bought me this one, and it doesn’t matter that I’ve paid him back; he did it because he’s family and we do that shit for each other. Fuck Joey and his pissy attitude.”

Be still my fucking heart.

Blaise turns and bats his eyelashes at us both to be a dick, and Harley snarks back at him. I can take a deep breath again, but my chest still fucking hurts.

Joey knows that the only way to truly hurt his siblings is to hurt our family and that makes him a fucking danger.

When we get back into our room, my phone buzzes again and I find a text from Diarmuid.

I can hunt the Beaumont down for you. Will that prove my loyalty? He’ll be dead by sunrise.

I show Avery and she stares at me for a second, running the risk analysis in her head for the hundredth time. Finally, she sighs and shakes her head.

Joey lives to die by my hand another day.

THIRTY-FIVE

Much like last time, I feel fucking sick to my stomach the morning of our choir performance.

Harley wakes me with kisses and soft touches, stroking my face and neck possessively, and I enjoy it for about three seconds before I remember what I have to do in a few hours and then I’m shaking again.

Avery cooks me French toast and I choke down a single piece, my stomach revolting the entire time.

She hides the coffee from me.

I’ve never been so fucking angry at her, not even when she was trying to destroy me before we became family. When I snap that at her, she just nods and smiles in this infuriatingly kind way that sets my teeth on edge.

When I snarl at Harley to piss off and let me shower by myself, she laughs at his kicked puppy expression. “She’s not going to be our Lips today until she gets this over with, Arbour. Just leave her to wallow Morrison-style.”

When I get out of the shower, stomping and throwing myself around, I find the whole family out in our room waiting for me, staring with various levels of sympathy and glee.

Ash can’t contain his fucking glee.

“I’ve been waiting months to hear this, Mounty, Morrison’s being fucking shifty about it. He never records songs without letting me listen to them; I’ve been feeling put out,” he says as he tucks me under his arm. I can’t do much more than nod and grimace.

We walk down to the chapel, and I sulk the whole way. They all ignore me, which is usually what I want but just this once I’d like Avery to save me from this fucking assignment. I don’t feel ready to sing yet. I don’t feel ready to listen to myself do it, but I’ve promised Blaise and… fuck. I love him.

I fucking love that asshole.

I sigh and pull myself together. We leave the others on their claimed bench in the front row. Avery squeezes my hand as we walk past, and I attempt some sort of smile at her. I can’t look at the other two, afraid they’ll try to kiss me and I’ll puke on them.

Blaise sweet talks Miss Umber and gets us the first slot so I only have to wait five minutes while they set the piano up. Then we’re being introduced and the squealing of the freshman girls at the front has a little of my usual fire returning.

Blaise roars with laughter.

“There you are, Star. I was afraid I’d lost you,” he teases and laces his fingers through mine.

“I fucking hate this, you’re lucky I love you,” I mumble, and his hand jerks in mine. I frown and glance up at his shocked face. He swallows roughly but I’m too busy freaking out to realize it’s the first time I’ve told the idiot I love him.

We walk out on the stage and Blaise grins easily, waving and bowing like the natural performer he is. I stomp out like I want to commit mass murder on every fucker in the damn room. Well, everyone but my family.

I sit on the piano bench, away from the crowd so I can hide behind Blaise’s broad form. He smiles and bumps my shoulder as he rolls his own back, loosening up before his fingers rest on the keys.

“Ready?” he murmurs, and I give him the slightest nod. I swear I’m going to puke.