Page 117 of Brutal Game

An hour after he’d left my apartment, workers showed up and repaired it without saying a word. By the time Tovah had gotten back from an allnighter at the newspaper, it was like Jack had never knocked it off its hinges.

Like he’d never been here, period.

It was for the best. On Monday, I’d ask Professor Johnathan if I could finish the semester up as an independent study. I doubted Jack would fight me on it. Even as he’d admitted he loved me, even as he’d fucked me into confessing it back, there was a desperation in his touch that made it obvious: he knew we were done, too.

Better for him to disappear out of my life altogether. I’d pick up the pieces.

Tomorrow. I’d pick up the pieces tomorrow.

I wasn’t home when the car he’d ordered for me showed up. Tovah had sent me a text:

there’s a car here?

for you?

to take you to the hockey game?

????????

CAN I FINALLY MURDER HIM?

I’d ignored her texts.

Just like I’d ignored Jack’s texts and calls. Instead, I’d hidden out at the library, trying to focus on classwork. It was impossible. I kept picturing the look on Jack’s face, the feeling of him inside me, as he told me he hated me and loved me with an intensity I’d never heard before. Terrifying, exhilarating, both at once.

But he still didn’t believe me, and even though it hurt, hurt, hurt,ohgodithurt, I had to put Asher first. Had to focus on school and completing my mission to get him justice. Not worry about what it would do to Jack, because Jack was done and we were done and?—

The words in my textbook swam in front of my face.

I wasn’t getting work done.

I was bone tired, and all I wanted was my bed. Even though it smelled like him, and maybe because it still smelled like him.

I trudged home, checking the hockey score on my phone. The Kings were behind by two points. It was weird. I doubted Jack was playing shitty because of our…breakup, or whatever it was. He was too focused on the game, too determined to win, to let some girl he thought he loved but didn’t believe throw him off. I loved that truth, and hated it at the same time.

The door was unlocked when I got home.

Weird, because Tovah had a shift at the bar tonight.

Shit.

Had someone broken in?

I glanced at my phone, not sure who to call. Who could help? Asher was too far away, Tovah wouldn’t see her phone, I didn’t trust the police, and Jack was at the game and might not help, anyway.

Double shit.

No way was I going into my apartment when god knew what could be waiting for me.

I turned, and someone grabbed me around the waist.

I screamed.

“Shh, little fury. It’s me.”

I smelled him, his spice, ice, and whiskey scent. Felt the terrible comfort of his arms.

But how was he even here?

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