Page 112 of Play Dirty

A beat.

“They tried to wait it out,” he said. “Didn’t work.”

My stomach dropped.

“They’re where?” I asked.

“Some motel,” he said, frowning slightly. “Closest thing they could find. They barely made it.”

My phone buzzed. A message.

Zack.

Zack: This place makes the last one look like a spa

Zack: I swear something in the bathroom just moved

Zack: Also it smells like someone painted this one in blood too

Despite everything, a small helpless laugh escaped me.

“The game?” Ares demanded.

“Canceled,” Sebastian said. “League already called it. They’ll reschedule.”

Grayson had a satellite image up on his own phone. I edged closer to get a look.

The entire screen was swallowed by a swirling, gray-and-white storm.

“Upgraded to blizzard,” he muttered. “No end in sight.”

My mouth dropped open.

“How long are they saying—”

“Forty-eight hours at least,” he said. “Maybe seventy-two.”

Silence. It settled over us slowly.

No team.

No Mercer.

No structure.

Just—

Us.

I shivered. Ares noticed, and started moving again.

“Let’s go warm up,” he said. “We’ll figure it out.”

The walk felt longer than it should’ve been. Cold air clung to everything. My breath fogged with every step.

I was aware of them. All of them.

Ares ahead.