Page 44 of Deadly Little Games

“You left me in charge, so Batman it is.”

Hazen hastily snatches his comically exaggerated Bane ensemble, complete with skin-tight leather pants and a revealing V-neck singlet. He doesn’t mutter a word as he gets dressed. He’s been quiet pretty much the whole day, and I have no idea if it’s because she’s with us or if something else is going on.

I begrudgingly slip into the foolish suit, adamantly refusing to wear the matching green hat, which I leaveuntouched on the bed. The bathroom door opens, then closes, and I look up... fucking hell. The room is completely silent, and I can hear my heart pounding in my ears.

Freya is now wearing the Harley Quinn outfit chosen by Lucas, and I take back all my previous statements. Lucas picking these outfits is a blessing in disguise, or a curse, because my cock is begging to be touched by her and her only.

In fishnet stockings, and red and blue shorts that ride up her thighs, she turns to grab a glass from the kitchen cupboard, showing off half of her perfectly shaped ass. God damn. Her dark hair is in pigtails and her eyes are painted with heavy eye makeup. A small heart rests on her cheek. She’s got a gold collar around her neck saying “Joker,” and the tight white T-shirt makes my cock twitch. She’s fucking perfect.

The bed squeaks and Lucas rolls off it, moving across the room like a predator stalking prey. Grabbing the back of Freya’s neck, he claims her lips. She tries to shove him away but eventually gives in. I wait for the pang of jealousy to hit me, but it never comes. There’s no denying I want her, and the more time we spend together, the further I fall—but I can’t. She’s better off without me and without us. The sooner we find her brother, the better, and we can all move on with our lives. However, the more I say that the more it doesn’t feel right.

I turn away, catching Hazen watching them intently. Does he want her, too? I see the way he looks at her, more than he’s ever looked at a female before. He’s been with girls before, of course, but he’s never shown any interest beyond hook-ups. Not until her. I get it, I really do, but we can’t get attached to her.

My father always used to say that women were mere distractions and to never let anyone get close to your heart because they will rip it out at any chance they get. According to him, women only had one job: to look good for appearances. But even then, if my mother looked too good, father used to punish her. If anyone looked at her for too long, it was her fault for making them. Then, when she got sick, my father took off and left her to fend for herself. It was apparently too much for him to see her like that—a shell of a person—but I knew better. He didn’t want to look after her; she was useless to him. And the funny twist was he ended up dying before her.

Every girl I’ve ever met and spent time with only had one use for me: to get my dick wet. And I never let them get close, just like father always taught me. But Freya is like an itch, and no matter how much I scratch, it won’t go away. She’s an infection that I can’t shake.

Freya isn’t the type of woman to just look good for appearances. No, she’s someone who fights beside you. She’s an equal. If my father was alive now and heard me say that, I’d have a bullet to my head.

“Harley Quinn needs her Joker, doesn’t she?” Lucas says, kissing her neck, and Freya swats him away playfully.

There’s a knock at the door and Hazen looks through the peephole before opening it and taking a couple of pizza boxes from the delivery driver. He places them down on the table and Freya digs in.

Lucas starts getting dressed in his ridiculous Joker outfit, complete with vibrant purple pants and a flamboyant green coat. I get now why he chose these, so he could be her Joker. I shake my head, trying to resist the temptation to wipe that self-satisfied grin off his face.

We eat in relative silence, and Freya keepschecking her phone. Like she’s counting down the seconds until we leave for the party. I get it. I didn’t say anything to her or the guys, but if Uriah, Rune, and Aydan haven’t seen or heard about Alec, then I didn’t like our chances of finding him, but hopefully, this Levi guy has answers for us.

Whatever the case, we need to wrap this up quickly and get back home. I don’t like being away from Daring for too long because that’s when shit goes down, and some people think it’s okay to break the rules. The clean-up is never pretty.

For the next couple of hours, we sit on the couch, mindlessly eating snacks and flipping through mind-numbing TV channels, while I observe her growing more and more restless. Her fingernails must be worn at the buds from her constant biting. She’s on the king-sized bed next to Lucas. With the last-minute plan, the hotel only had one room left with one bed. I don’t plan on staying long, but if we need it, it’s here.

“Can we go already?” she asks, rubbing her eye and smudging some of her red eye makeup.

“Soon. Party doesn’t start until late, little thorn. I’ve told you this already,” Lucas says.

“Make time go quicker,” she snaps, and I snort.

“We will get there soon enough. You think I like being dressed up in this stupid-ass outfit?” I ask, running a hand down my pants. The more I look at the bright green, the more my eyes bleed.

“I think you love it,” she replies, raising her eyebrow.

“Let’s fucking go,” Hazen snaps, pushing back the chair opposite mine. He storms out, slamming the door shut. Well okay then.

Freya doesn’t have to be told twice—she’s up and outthe door within the next second. Lucas takes his time rolling off the bed.

“What’s up with Hazen?” I ask.

“Beats me.” Lucas shrugs.

We follow them out and jump into my car. The drive out to the grave is silent. Freya taps away on the door handle, pushing the window up and down until I can’t stand the sound any longer. I hold my breath, not wanting to start anything. We need to keep close to her tonight if these parties are anything like I remember.

I pull down a dirt road that leads into the forest, coming to a stop outside a rusty set of gates. There are a couple of men guarding it, and one comes over. Winding down my window, I make eye contact with him, and he freezes. His mouth opens, then closes before he motions for the other guard to open the gate. Smart move.

Continuing on the dirt track, the car jostles and bumps along, sending vibrations through the steering wheel. The trees grow thicker and more tightly packed together, forming a natural barrier around our car. Up ahead, a large fire casts flickering light, dancing into the dark night. We reach a small opening where several cars are parked together. I pull up next to a worn-down pick-up truck and pray that no one touches or hits my baby. I’m not looking for an excuse to spill blood tonight.

As soon as I switch off the car, Freya is out the door and gone. I curse—there goes the plan of not losing her tonight. I slide out, holding Hazen’s door for him, and before he takes one step I grab onto his elbow. He looks up.

“You good, bro?” I ask, and he nods, then rips free of my hold and storms off after Freya. Apparently not.

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