Page 117 of Play The Game

We spend two days packing our rooms and when it’s time to leave, Blaise is grumbling and pissy over how bad the smell in the Maserati will be thanks to the tubs being left in them for days. He’s shocked to find them missing, and I laugh at him.

“Did you really think I’d leave them lying around? Illi picked them up for us.”

Blaise frowns and pops the trunk to sling our bags in. “How the fuck did he get into the car? The alarms on this thing are insane.”

Harley chuckles at him. “The key. I gave him my set when he called. Why are you being so fucking precious over this thing? At least it’s still in one piece.”

Blaise cringes and nods. No one likes to bring up the ‘Stang.

I give Avery the front seat, even though Blaise pouts about it, and we head back to the Bay together. Avery starts telling us all about the renovations to her ranch, and I make another mental note to call the Coyote for a security system upgrade. There’s no way I’m calling the Crow; if Ash lays eyes on him he’ll fucking skin him, and the only help in that situation will be Harley holding him the fuck down.

We stay at the same hotel, stupidly, I should know better than to stick to a routine.

I walk with Avery, our arms tucked together as the boys trail behind us, bickering and arguing like idiots. Avery freezes at the door, and I glance up to find a well-dressed thug in the hotel room.

I dart around her, shielding her even as Ash does the same, but his eyes don’t look shocked. They look wary, knowing. Fuck, that’s not a good sign.

“Your father has invited you to dinner. You will not be late. You will not decline. You will not invite any further guests. The Wolf and the Crow will both attend. If you know what is good for you, you’ll track your brother down and bring him as well. Nine sharp.”

Then he lists off the name of a place I’ve never even driven past, it’s so far uptown, and walks out. Avery groans and slumps down, resting her forehead on my shoulder.

“I need a week off,” she mumbles, and I sigh. Don’t we all.

Ash stalks to the bar, forgoing the glass entirely and taking deep swigs straight from the bottle. Blaise waves a blunt at him and they disappear out to the balcony. I narrow my eyes at them but Avery stomps over, cussing them out.

“There’s hours left. He won’t go down there without a clear head,” Harley murmurs behind me, and I nod. I don’t like it, but it’s not my choice.

Hours of stewing on the couch in silence later, I climb into the shower and pray the hot water will give me the fucking answers on how to get through tonight without losing one of our family.

Avery sits on the bathroom counter, wearing only a silk robe, and pouts. “I don’t want to see Atticus. I’m so angry at him, I’m not sure I ever want to see him again.”

I scrub at my hair and shrug. “Why? I mean, I know he didn’t tell you who he was but… you know the real him.”

She narrows her eyes at me. “Are you defending him? Ash will lose his shit at you.”

I snort at her, such a lady. “No, I’m asking my best friend what the exact problem is so when this entire night goes to hell in a handbasket, I know enough to pick the right battles.”

Her eyes soften and she sighs, leaning back to bump her head against the mirror gently like she’s trying to knock some sense back into her brain. “He still sees me as some precious little girl that needs to be protected. I’m not angry he didn’t tell me he’s a member of the Twelve, I’m angry he came up to buy me from you like I’m… an object. That’s exactly what Rory thought of me too, but Rory was a distraction not… Atticus.”

There are tears rimming her eyes, but the look on her face is fucking fierce. Oh boy, he’s fucked up. He’s fucked up so bad he may never dig himself out of this bullshit he’s buried himself in.

“Well, maybe it’s time we reminded him that you’re Avery fucking Beaumont and you might have shown him your soft side because he meant something to you, but that doesn’t make you any less of a ruthless, cutthroat dictator. Beat him in his own game because, Aves, he has no fucking clue who he’s really dealing with.”

She smiles at me and hands me a towel. “None of these stupid boys do.”

THIRTY-NINE

I hate the dress Avery has put me in but I have to admit, she knows her shit. I fit right in. The restaurant is flashy, overdone, and intimidating to stand in. If I didn’t already know half the waiters, I’d be uncomfortable as fuck, but Joseph Beaumont has underestimated my reach.

I nod at the maître d' and he tips his head at me respectfully. Ash scoffs. “Is there anyone you don’t know in the Bay?”

I shrug and wait for him to take us to our seats. The Crow is already waiting for us in the lounge, sipping a malt whiskey, with Luca flanking him in a sharp suit. I sigh as Harley’s fists clench at his sides.

“Wolf.”

I shake my head at him and say, “Are we the Twelve today, or are we friends? I don’t make my friends call me the Wolf.”

Harley glares at Atticus like he wants to beat him bloody for everything that has ever happened to Ash and Avery while this man stood by and let it, and I grab his wrist gently to try to remind him of our conversation.