Page 30 of Brutal Game

“Fuck,” she swore. “Aviva, can we please go to the cops? Or let me write an exposé? We need to get you away from him.”

I shook my head, adamant. “We can’t, Tovah. I already told you. He’ll make the NHL believe Asher’s a liar, and ruin my life, while he’s at it. Take any chance of getting a psychology degree away from me.”

“You won’t lose your chance to be a psychologist. And Asher won’t care. I’m going to call him right now. Hewouldn’t want you doing this. Hell, he’d come here and fight Jack Feldman himself.”

That’s what I was afraid of.

She reached into her pocket, and I put out a hand to stop her.

“Please, Tovah.Trust me.”

She shook her head, curls—pink today—flying. “You know, you are absolutely the strongest, most selfless person I know. No one else could keep their shit together while being tormented the way Jack’s clearly tormenting you, and no one else would put up with it—even for their family. I love you for it, but it scares me. How far are you going to let this go? I know after your parents were killed, all you had was each other. But when are you going to start protecting yourself, instead of him?”

I couldn’t answer her. I didn’t know how to.

She sighed. “What happened today?”

I cleared my throat. “We had sex.”

“What?!” She yelled the word so loudly, Alex glanced up from his stool.

“Everything okay over there?” he asked.

I waved him off. “We’re fine.” Lowering my voice, I hissed at Tovah, “Shh. I don’t want anyone to know.”

Shame was a funny thing. It alienated, isolated, made us lie and obfuscate, all in order to protect ourselves from rejection—except all it did was keep us from the people and support we needed.

The thing was, I wasn’t ashamed of having sex. I wasn’t even ashamed of having been forced to: that wasn’t my fault, that was Jack’s. But I was ashamed of how much I’d liked it.

“Was it awful?” she asked quietly. “Do we need to go get you Plan B?”

I shook my head. “He used a condom. Tovah…” Tovah didn’t talk about sex much with me, but I knew she’d had it. “Have you ever…enjoyed not having the control? During sex?”

She inhaled, blushing. “Sure, I like CNC, as long as it’s safe, sane, and consensual. But this is none of those things. Why, was it good?”

I nodded, looking away and busying myself with restocking the bar with glassware.

“Aviva, it’s okay to not always want to be in control. Being submissive can be fun. And don’t feel bad, if you liked it. I’m relieved, honestly. At least he didn’t hurt you.”

He had, and it had felt good.

He’d been tender after, and it had felt better.

Before I could tell her more, the door swung open, framing Jack in the dim, warm light of the bar. Isaac Jones stood at his side. Isaac smirked, his dimples showing, but Jack just looked…intense.

Then again, he always looked intense.

What the hell was he doing here? In the week since I’d started at The Stacks, I’d never once seen the Core Four at the bar. So was this a coincidence, or had he figured out where I worked that quickly? I felt heat rising to my chest, my face. He was looking at me like he was remembering my naked body, and he was planning on seeing it again—soon.

I hated him. I hated him for all he’d done to me, and I especially hated the way he made me feel like I was his sole focus. Like the world could end, and he’d stare at me the whole time. My agenda was better achieved in the dark.

He watched me, but he didn’tseeme. He thought I was a liar, and a conniving, manipulative, opportunistic bitch.

It hurt. I hated to admit it to myself, but ithurt.

Alex held out his hand for their IDs, checking them over, probably as a formality. He handed them back, andthey bumped fists in some jock form of greeting that annoyed me. I wouldn’t call Alex a friend, per se, but I’d at least trusted him a little. Now, I knew better.

Jack walked over to the bar, slowly, steadily, building fear and anticipation in me at his approach. Isaac swaggered after him.

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