Page 55 of Brutal Game

Had I gone too far? Aviva was strong, remarkably so—she’d proven it tonight when she’d still stood her ownagainst me. But even the strongest tree could crack if lightning hit it right. Was Judah right? Had I broken her?

And who was I, to be so confused, so torn? Not Jack Feldman, that was for sure.

Stopping in the kitchen, I heated up some water and made hot chocolate. Aftercare involved chocolate, right? A little late, but still seemed like it would help. I was both anticipating and dreading what would happen when I got back up to my room.

Once I was upstairs, I entered the code, slowly opening the door, expecting anything. More screaming, more crying, maybe projectiles thrown in my direction.

Nothing. The quiet was punctuated by soft breathing from the bed. I made my way over, switching on the flashlight on my phone so I didn’t trip over anything.

Aviva was asleep on the bed above the covers, curled into a protective ball, pillow between her thick, beautiful thighs, brown curls covering her soft, heart-shaped face. Gently, carefully, I moved her hair off her face. Even in sleep, she seemed troubled, eyes moving under eyelids as if she were having a nightmare.

“No,” she begged, “No. Don’t look, please.”

“Aviva? Princess, are you awake?”

She didn’t respond.

She was dreaming. Was it about me? Was the nightmare because of what I’d done to her?

Guilt returned. I set the hot chocolate on the nightstand, stripping down to my boxers before climbing into bed behind her. I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her back against my chest. Immediately, I relaxed. I’d never slept with a woman in my arms before, but I didn’t hate it.

Not at all.

“You’re okay,” I murmured as I leaned over her and stroked her hair. “You’re okay.”

Slowly, she relaxed, her face smoothing out. I released her waist to remove the pillow between her thighs, replacing it with my leg. Truly tangled together, and satisfied in ways I couldn’t fully explain, I soaked up the feeling of her in my arms, shutting my eyes and picturing a life where this was every night for me.

When you realize, you don’t let go. No matter what.

I might not trust her, I might not like her, but I was obsessed with her.

And she deserved better. She was stuck with me, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t treat her better.

“You aren’t going anywhere, little thief,” I murmured into her hair. “But I am sorry.”

She’d stolen something from me, something I couldn’t entirely describe. My control? My equilibrium? Something worse? Maybe we were even now, since I was stealing her, but it didn’t matter.

She’d pay. Forever, if I had a say.

But then why did I regret what I’d done?

I closed my eyes, but as good as holding Aviva felt, sleep wouldn’t come. Guilt and fear had run off with it. Because what if Isaac, Judah, and Levi were right? What if Micah was? Had I pushed her too far? Was I going to lose her? Had I lost her already?

18

Aviva

My bed had magically become more comfortable overnight. Instead of a stiff, thin Ikea mattress, supportive memory foam cradled my body. A pillow, softer and cooler than I’d maybe ever felt in my life, was under my head. And I was warm. Too warm.

What’s more I felt safe, protected, cared for. Maybe it was because of the strong pair of familiar arms wrapped around me, one holding my belly, the other cupping my breast.

Mybarebreast. I could feel fingers directly on skin…and touching my scar.

Jack.

I was in his bed.

He’d fucked me last night in front of his entire team while I was high on Vixen, and taken off my shirt and bra, and I’d let him. Everyone had seen my bare chest, everyone had seen my scar.

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