Page 62 of Play The Game

“Has something happened?” I murmur, holding my breath as I wait for his answer, because I have so many things on the planner I can’t think about another one. I had pushed Joey out of my mind for now, Senior being the bigger threat.

“Are you planning on killing Joey?” Ash mumbles, his eyes screwing shut, and I grimace.

“I think I’m going to have to. He’s going to force my hand and he’s not someone we can neutralize long term. I have to figure Senior out first, because he’s already made it clear that he’ll kill you and Avery if anything happens to Joey but… yes. I’ll take him out.”

Any hesitance I had in telling Ash I’m planning on murdering his brother is obviously pointless, because he just nods thoughtfully.

He strokes his long fingers over my face, brushing my hair back absently as he thinks. “The gossip site posted about our relationship and Joey messaged me to threaten you. He told Senior about you too. Mounty, I’m not going to let them get to you.”

I swallow roughly at the emotion in his voice, something I’m not sure I ever thought would be aimed at me. “Don’t think about it. The Crow will keep Senior away until we can deal with him properly. The only reason I didn’t deal with him last year myself is because you and Avery were underage and there were too many variables. Now he’s got deals in the pipeline that I have to figure out first. I’m kicking myself for doing it, Avery seems to think Atticus would’ve stepped in for you both but⁠—”

“Fuck Atticus. I’d rather live in the slums with you than owe that dickhead anything,” Ash hisses.

It’s fucking hard work, but I contain my eye roll. How does he go from sweet to asshole in a flash?

I ignore his tantrum and say, “It doesn’t matter now anyway. If we can keep Senior away from you, and somehow neutralize the fucking Morningstar threat, then I’ll sneak into his bedroom and slit his throat while he sleeps. Or Illi can take a meat cleaver to his throat and then dismember him.”

Ash mutters unhappily under his breath at the mention of Illi, and I nudge him playfully. Avery exits the bathroom, quirking a brow at Ash’s appearance but doesn’t make a comment as she climbs into her own bed and cuts the lights. I hear her iPod start up and smile at her attempts to give us a little privacy.

I let my eyes drift shut, ready to sleep and forget about the sociopaths looming over us, watching our every freaking move. Ash presses his lips to mine and kisses me so sweetly I can’t believe it’s him. He usually kisses me with fire, with dominance, with that arrogance that only a Beaumont can have.

I tremble like a freaking wilting virgin in his arms.

When he breaks away to press his forehead against mine, he whispers, “If I lose you, then everything we’ve done has been for nothing. If he takes you away from me… I can’t let that happen. Every time I close my eyes I see you strapped to that fucking table, bleeding out while they watch, and I won’t live through that again. If there’s even a chance of that happening, we need to kill them both.”

He pauses for a second, his nose rubbing against mine, then he tucks his face into the crook of my neck before he can pry the last of his confession out. “I almost wish you weren’t so strong, that we got you to drop out last year, because even though I wouldn’t have you, at least you’d be safe and far away from Senior.”

I will not cry, I won’t let myself, but fuck, it’s hard not to.

When I’m sure my voice won’t betray me, I say, “If I had dropped out, I’d be the Jackal’s personal whore by now. He would have chained me to his bed and fucked me until I was nothing but an empty, manipulatable shell. Then he would control two seats in the Twelve and be unstoppable. We’ll get through this together, like we’ll get through everything else life throws at us. As a family.”

He nods against my neck, biting the skin softly until a shiver runs down my spine.

I don’t know how long it takes me to fall asleep, but I’m woken by the dip in the bed, and the smell of chlorine hits me before his voice does.

“What the fuck has happened now?” Harley whispers, pulling me back into his arms, and Ash grunts unhappily in his sleep.

“Nothing. He just needed… me.”

Harley nods and kisses my neck, right over the bruise Ash left behind. “We all need you, babe.”

EIGHTEEN

The only way to spend any time with Harley while we’re both conscious is to study down at the pool while he’s at practice. It’s stuffy from the water heaters and my notes somehow end up watermarked every time, but it’s worth the trouble when Harley walks out in his swimsuit.

As my eyes trace the ridges and plains of his muscles, the Adonis belt I swear has to be seen to be believed, I absently wonder if I’ll ever be able to look at him without feeling lightheaded. It’s not like he’s some idealized dream; I’ve seen so many of his highs and lows already—I know he’s human. I know he’s not some flawless man. But, sweet lord, to look at him is like looking at the fucking sun; searingly hot and dangerous to your health.

I’m distracted from my lusty daydreaming by Ms. fucking Vivienne sitting her bitch self next to me with a smirk.

“Stunning, isn’t he?” she says, coquettish in her breathy tones.

Eyeing me like I’m a bug about to be crushed under her foot, whatever bullshit she’s trying to pull on me is clearly backfiring because nothing about her is unsettling or humbling to me right now. In fact, the only thing she’s achieving is pissing me off enough to ignore the many reasons we’re holding back.

She doesn’t falter when I stare back at her like I’m fantasizing about slitting her throat, but the dumb bitch is too naive to see the difference between us. She’s all about threats and snide remarks, sending other people in to do her dirty work, metaphors of violence in a trumped up package.

My knife is already in my hand, the weight of it a comfort to me, and I’ll use it the moment the opportunity presents itself.

Channeling Avery Beaumont at her scathing, polished best, I refuse to break our eye contact first. “I would think a teacher in her, what? Thirties? Would know better than commenting on the physical appearance of students.”