Page 65 of Brutal Game

“Not what I heard, either,” Lucy added.

“We’re not together. He’s been bullying the shit out of me,” I clarified.

“Because he’s an unhinged asshole,” Tovah added.

Leslie coughed. “I know something about unhingedassholes, and I hate to be this person, but sometimes hedoesbully you because he likes you.”

Lucy’s laughter pealed out. “You would know, wouldn’t you,butterfly.”

Leslie blushed, but smiled dreamily. “I’m not saying that what they do isn’t terrible, but?—”

“—Pretty fucking terrible,” Tovah interjected.

“—but it all ends up working out. At least in my case. You have to show them you’ll give as good as you get.”

“And she should know, she getsitpretty good from Mason,” Lucy teased.

Interest piqued, I asked, “Mason bullied you?” This I hadn’t heard.

Leslie nodded. “At first, for sure. He was a real asshole, but I refused to like, be a doormat and put up with his crap. When he followed me to Tabb, it turned into more.” She flashed the diamond on her finger in front of us. “And well, here we are.”

“Even though he’s her stepbrother,” Lucy pointed out.

Leslie swatted at her. “Whatever.”

“Oh right, right. I forgot. You don’t ‘stepbrotherfucking care.’”

Leslie laughed but rolled her eyes. “It’s like you want me to get you in trouble with Coach Matthews.”

“Don’t you dare!” Lucy sounded worried.

“Well, Idostepbrotherfucking care that Jack is targeting Aviva,” Tovah broke in.

Lucy eyed me. “You look like you’re handling it okay, but then I’m not surprised. You’ve always seemed like the type who doesn’t melt under heat.”

Tovah smiled proudly. “She doesn’t.” Then she sobered. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t worry she won’t get burned.”

Leslie played with her ring. “Sometimes thesedouchebags have a way of surprising you,” she told Tovah. “At least, mine did.”

As Tovah and Leslie chatted, Lucy leaned in closer to me. “So I talked to Blake.”

My heart raced. Was this it? Was I finally going to get justice for my brother? And why did the possibility of fulfilling my mission for him make me feel a little…sad? Why did Jack’s face pop into my head?

I shook my head, trying to dislodge the feeling. “And?”

She shook her head, frowning. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t get anything out of him. The second I said ‘Jensen’ he clammed up. Told me I needed to stop sticking my nose in places it didn’t belong, and to ‘stay away from that jackass.’ I kept trying, in every way I could think of—and then some—but he refused to say another word about him.”

Lead filled my chest.

Blake Samson knew something. I refused to give up on this lead so easily. It hurt, knowing in some ways I was so close to my goal, and in others, I was no closer.

What was I going to do if I couldn’t get the evidence on Joshua Jensen that I needed? How could I even face Asher, knowing that I’d failed? What would I do if I had to watch him live his life without hockey, when he used to live and breathe it?

“Can you try harder?” I asked Lucy.

She tilted her head at me. “You know, I don’t know anyone as persistent as you. It’s definitely admirable, but I’d love to know why.”

“Not my story to tell,” I said. “Please, keep trying with him.”

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