Page 128 of Forbidden Game

The door to my room cracks open, and bright light cuts through the blue haze.

Aleks leans against the door frame, his tattooed arms crossed over his chest. “You good?”

“Yeah.” I push up from the chair and follow him out into the kitchen.

Jackson is pulling a tray of chicken parm from the oven, but even the smell of food doesn’t quell the mild nausea in my gut.

Aleks continues to side-eye me as we take our seats at the island, but I ignore him, opting to pull out my phone and scroll instead. My grandfather’s text notification burns back at me.

In typical Jackson fashion, he plates everything for us, even going so far as to pour us each a glass of water before joining us on his own stool to the right of Aleks.

Some might think it was dickish of me not to offer help. But I’m not really allowed in the kitchen. You could even say I’d been banned.

Alicia, our personal chef, is a goddess and makes us meals during the week that we can reheat since our streaming schedules left us out of whack. But even the simplicity of reheating a meal didn’t always go right when I was involved. I can tell you that, if I’d been in charge of reheating that chicken parm, it would have burnt to an indecipherable crisp.

I cut the chicken into bite-size pieces, hoping that the effort would spark some desire to eat in me.

It does not. It just makes me look like a child playing with their food.

Distracted, a heavy sigh leaves my body.

Aleks lets his fork clatter against the marble, and he turns to stare.

“Either talk or stop being a broody bitch.”

“Dude, just let him be. He’s nervous,” Jackson mumbles between bites.

“I’m not nervous,” I retort.

Jackson leans forward so I can see him, and he gives a strong look. “Liar.”

“Whatever.” I push back from the island and hop off the stool, stalking to my bedroom.

I don’t even bother taking off my clothes. I just lift up the bed sheets before throwing myself under them, encasing myself in darkness.

“You’re just gonna feel worse if you stew in it.” Aleks’ voice is muffled by my cocoon, but I can still make out his words.

“I told you, I’m fine.”

“You didn’t, and you’re not.” The bed dips with his weight as he invades my space.

“Go away, I just want to sleep.” I’m getting pissed now.

“I’ll leave but only after I say my piece.”

I groan, but I refrain from kicking out my leg and shoving him off the bed. He’d probably just sit on the floor and continue to preach, anyway. I hate when he puts his leader mask on.

“You’ve been working your ass off for this championship, grinding hours. Stop getting all in your head about it. You’ll come out on top because you always do, Parker. We’re The System, and we’re the fucking best there is. You’ll head out on stage and show everyone that. We’ll be in the stands, cheering your ugly ass on, and after we’ll go out and celebrate by getting absolutely blacked. You’ve got this, brother.”

He doesn’t wait for me to say anything. The weight disappears, and my bed springs up. The soft click of the door is the only sign I have that he has left the room.

I peek my head out from the sheets and breathe in cool air.

My head continues to spin.

Even though Aleks doesn’t have the full grasp of how much weight is on this championship, he is right. Whatever is going to happen, would happen. I’ve been working my ass off, and that is the best I could do. Nothing would change the outcome now.

It is like writing code. You have to let the system run through it and test the parameters before you make any changes. There is no point tweaking it within an inch of its life before knowing the results.

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