Page 107 of Forbidden Game

The bouncer had given me quite the side-eye until he’d noticed how short the dress was, something that I am becoming more self-conscious of as I push through the crowd. In my rush to leave, I had just thrown it on over my bandeau bikini.

I was lucky that Deer was able to get me on a private jet over to Miami at a moment’s notice. Suspicious of exactly where said jet came from but grateful, nonetheless.

Five and a half hours were spent gnawing on my thumb as I tried to get to the boy who was ignoring my every call.

I’d gone through every emotion under the sun during that flight, most of them the anger variety. I was livid that he wouldn’t speak to me. Upset that he’d shut me out. Frustrated that I couldn’t reach him.

But more than anything, I was worried.

And that worry, that deep-seated fear, won out over the anger. It flushed it away because all I care about is that he is okay.

There is a part of me that is mad at myself, too. Mad that I hadn’t been here. Mad that I was states away soaking in a hot spring and getting massages while he suffered.

Parker likes to put on a brave face, but I know all that he hides underneath that. He isn’t used to losing, to not getting what he wants, and I didn’t know how he would handle it.

This is everything I’d feared when the tournaments started up.

I break through the crowd and spot an elevated area below the raised DJ booth. The security guy manning the roped-off area is a clear signal to the exclusivity. If Parker is anywhere, he’ll be there.

I only make it a few steps before there is a loud hiss and smoke billows out from the raised DJ stage. I suck in my shock as the cold haze surrounds me. My head tilts up to see two men flanking the DJ with spray guns, shooting out a flurry of bubbles.

My gaze locks on one man in particular.

That glowing blue mask looks down at me, and it sends a chill through my skin. We stare at each other for a few seconds. I hold my breath, waiting a beat before taking a step toward him.

He bolts.

“God dammit,” I mutter.

One second, he’s standing above me in a cloud of smoke, the next, he’s gone.

My eyes track through the crowds and spot him making a beeline through the roped-off area. He stumbles in his escape, leaning into some random guys before righting himself. His spray gun is thrown haphazardly onto a table.

That mask flashes again when he turns back briefly to see where I am before continuing on his way.

Hurt stabs into my chest like a poisoned dagger.

I push the feeling aside as I move to catch up to him. I don’t know this club like he does, but I’ve chased after these boys my fair share of times, so I can track him like he’s a rabbit on the loose.

I keep my eyes on the back of Parker’s head as he races to get farther from me. I make it into a back hallway, and a security guard tries to stop me. I huff out a silent apology as I duck under his arm and kick him in the back of the legs.

A loud bang has me altering my course, and I round a corner in time to see one of the emergency exit doors swinging closed.

I follow suit, pushing out into the balmy night air.

“Parker!” I yell at the figure running down the alleyway. He pauses briefly at my words. “You can’t run forever.”

Part of me hopes that I’ve broken through.

That part of me is very naïve.

Parker keeps up his escape, but he’s a mess. He isn’t even running in a straight line; he keeps veering slightly off course. He manages to successfully exit the alley and runs onto the main street. Even at three in the morning, downtown Miami is still a busy city.

I am going to kill him for putting me through this.

The crowds of people slow him down and, finally, he stumbles and fails to correct his balance in time. Parker falls to his knees, and it gives me the window I need to catch up to him.

My hand closes around the crook of his elbow. I hold tight, knowing that I cannot afford to let him go.

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