Page 107 of Ruthless Game

“Because he would want me to leave this alone.” He certainly wouldn’t want anyone else to know what he’d gone through, and he wouldn’t want me getting involved. But that’s why I wasn’t telling any of them details. “He doesn’t know how to accept help or let anyone else fight for him. But I’m going to.” I squared my shoulders. “You know that video of a girl who looks like me getting fucked by some guy, and Lawson getting groped by some girls?”

Levi whistled. “Unfortunately, I think everyone on campus knows that video.”

My stomach sank. I hadn’t had time to think about the repercussions of that video getting out. God knew what my family thought. I hated picturing my parents’ expressions when they saw it, or Jeffrey’s. We’d have to explain it wasn’t me.

One thing at a time, Emma.

“Anyway,” I forged ahead. “I need to find those two girls. Plus that guy who fucked the girl who wasn’t me. And I need to find out who texted the video to Max.”

My plan was simple: Beat the shit out of those girls.

Ask that guy to identify the girl he’d fucked—the one with the fake birthmark pretending to be me.

And then find out who’d orchestrated this whole mess in the first place.

I still couldn’t figure out who could possibly hate us that much. But they were going to regret getting between me and the love of my life.

“Who the fuck is Max?” Judah asked. “I can’t keep track of all this shit.”

“Lawson’s middle name,” Asher explained. He was watching me like he could see right through me. But that made sense; Max had said Asher was the only one who’d figured out what those girls had done to him. “Do you mean who texted it now, or back when you two first broke up?”

“Both,” I said. “Because I’m assuming it’s the same person.”

“I can probably get you those girls’ names and locations pretty quickly. Who sent the video is going to take longer, and would be much easier if Lawson was aware of what you were doing. But Emma? The easiest will be that guy fucking not-you. He plays hockey for Corcoran. And they’re playing the Kings tonight.”

Oh, shit.

“Lawson is going to lose his mind,” I said.

Jack nodded. “He’s going to lose his mind. So I suggest you do what you can to keep him from destroying his future. And fast.”

That night, I sat in the stands between Aviva and Tovah, wearing Max’s jersey—the one he’d had specially made for me. My leg was bouncing and I kept checking my phone. I’d texted Max to warn him about the guy playing for Corcoran and begged him not to do anything stupid.

Okay, Starburst, he’d texted back, but it didn’t calm me down much. His response had come too fast and easily. I had to hope Asher and the twins would keep him in line. And after all, that guy hadn’t actually fucked me. Sure, he’d been involved, but maybe the fact that he’d never touched me would save him from Max’s well-earned wrath.

Still. The sooner I went after those girls, and found out who had sent the video, the better things would be for all of us. Max might find some peace, and I would get the vengeance he so badly deserved. I wasn’t an idiot—I wasn’t strong enough to take on two girls at once, or anyone, for that matter. But maybe I could drown them in the pool.

As I fantasized about that, my phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out.

It was a text from Jack. Everything was perfectly punctuated.

“Is your fiancé a sociopath?” I asked Aviva.

“Basically,” she said, way too easily. “Why?”

“Because he texts like one.” When she raised an eyebrow, I quickly said, “He’s helping me track down those people, remember? That’s why you gave me his number.”

“Oh.” She settled. “Yeah, Jack loves to text in full sentences. It used to freak me out but as it turns out, it’s one of the least sociopathic things about him.”

I turned back to the text, anticipation buzzing in me at those perfectly punctuated sentences.

Jack: The girls’ names are Melanie and Stephanie. They both graduated from Corcoran two years ago, but they live a few towns over from Gehenom. And you’re in luck, Emma, because they’re at the game tonight. Sitting on Corcoran’s side.

“Holy shit,” I said, staring wide-eyed at my phone.

“Is that a good holy shit, or a bad holy shit?” Tovah asked.

“It’s a ‘I’m about to kick some ass, somehow,’ holy shit,” I said, getting to my feet. “I’ll be back.”