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“We play to win, not to survive,” my brother tells me.
He truly has found his people among those weirdos.
Dez glances up over the rim of her device. “That’s why I’ve given up on stating my opinion.” She grimaces. “Or even watching.”
Markus opts for an offensive move, leaving his defense exposed, and yet again proving that we’re different species.
“If that’s how you guys play hockey, no wonder you lost the last game.”
I never even understood why we have a hockey team in freaking California. Something about a star professional player moving here a few years back. Their team isn’t all that bad, but I heard Ma commiserate over their last loss.
Keller and my brother both narrow their eyes at me, and I question my survival instincts. Why do I even attempt to push those guys?
Beaufort laughs; he’s on the rowing team, which isn’t doing half bad. “Touché.”
“Tell me again how you need me, Rio,” Markus says lightly, his threat implied.
He would be petty enough to keep his mouth shut just because I teased him. Little brothers are supposed to be cute and fun to play with, dammit. How did I get stuck with this psycho?
“Come on, I’m just fucking around. Tell me about the guy and I can be on my way.”
Markus sighs. “He’s a small-town big deal, ex-football player, generally liked, thoroughly average in every way. He works at a garage and lives with his parents—with Sarah, until a year ago,” he recites tonelessly, like he’s reading a report.
He must have memorized this, knowing I’d come.
Fuck it. I hate being predictable.
“Here’s the kicker: she left a few months shy of turning eighteen,” Markus says, tilting his head. “She kept going to school, but had all her mail sent to an address owned by the owner of the pet shelter where she worked.”
“Wait, are we talking about Sarah?” Dez pipes up, unfolding her legs and leaning in. “Whyare we talking about Sarah?”
She sounds defensive, like she’d reach for one of the many blades concealed on her person if anyone—her man included—has the wrong answer.
“Because some dick from her past is stalking her, doll,” Markus says, and there isn’t even any sarcasm attached to the endearment.
I’m still baffled every time I see him acting so…soft towards Daisy. I didn’t even think he could feel, let alone express anything besides icy detachment to anyone but our mother.
“What are we doing about it?” Dez demands expectantly.
Unless I’m mistaken, she seems strangely…excited?
“Giving the information to my brother. He wants to play the role of the knight in shining armor. Checkmate.”
He stands as Keller grunts, scanning the board to check. “You’re fucking sneaky!” he screams. “I want a rematch.”
“Play Beaufort,” Markus says, a smirk tugging his lips. “You both need the practice.”
It’s truly a miracle this haughty dick hasn’t driven any of his friends to murder yet.
To me, he hands a folded piece of paper, already written. The dick totally knew I was coming.
“Try not to get caught doing anything illegal, Rio,” he says, just as Dez bounces to her feet and tucks herself under his arm.
He kisses her, and both walk into the house.
As I open the paper, Dez looks over her shoulder. “Make sure whoever’s bugging our girl isn’t a problem anymore, yeah?”
They’re both encouraging murder, and their only advice is to make sure I wipe the evidence.
