Page 82 of Brutal Game

Exhausted, I shut my eyes for a moment.

“Is it safe to be out here alone at night?”

My eyes popped open. Jack loomed over me, blocking out whatever light filtered in from the street lamps.

“Itwas,” I said.

He laughed. “Fair.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Figured you’d want your phone.”

I held my hand out for it, but instead of handing it to me, he grabbed me around the throat. He didn’t squeeze, but like that first time, the threat was there.

“You don’t talk to other men, Aviva. You certainly don’tflirtwith them. Especially if they’re my teammates.”

I shut my eyes. It was easier if I didn’t look at him. It was too easy to get lost in his gray eyes. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. Not anymore.”

“Oh, princess. You’re mistaken if you think that stopped.”

“You found a new girl, you don’t need to torture me. She can suck your dick from now on.”

“Open your eyes, Aviva.”

I didn’t.

He squeezed. It was so slight, but it was enough. I opened my eyes.

“Let me get this through that beautiful little head. If I find out you’ve flirted with another man, I will lock you up in my basement and throw away the goddamned key. And him? They’ll never find his body. Do you want that on your conscience, princess?”

I swallowed against his hand. He released my neck slightly, lifting his thumb to stroke my pulse point. It immediately took me back to that morning in his room, when he’d untied me and kissed my wrists. It would be so easy to get lost in him, but that was madness. He didn’t give a shit about me. I was a sick game to him. Even if he was obsessed with me, even if he was messing around with another girl to fuck with my head, it didn’t matter. I needed tokeepmy head around him from now on.

“Jack, for the last time, I’m not yours.”

“You’re still mine, Aviva. You really think that changed because I found someone new?”

I glared at him. “I hate you.”

“You don’t hate me. If you did, you wouldn’t be so jealous.”

He leaned in, like he was going to kiss me, and even though I hated myself for it, I craved the feeling of his lips on mine.

Except he paused a centimeter away, whispering, “Too bad I can’t say the same.”

I snorted. “What was that with Dave earlier, if not jealousy? What’s all this ‘mine’ business, if not trying to claim what you think is your territory?”

He laughed, stepping away and releasing me. He’d been giving off so much heat, I’d forgotten it was cold out. “I’m not jealous. I just like making your life hell.” He handed me my phone. “I’d keep this, but you’ll need it to get home safe. And I’m nothing if not generous.”

With that, he sauntered out of the alley, leaving me there in the dark and the cold, forced to face a painful realization. So painful, it was like being stabbed with the serrated edge of a bread knife. I wanted to sink to the ground over what I’d learned.

It didn’t matter what Jack had said to me the night after the hockey game, when he’d paddled me with his stick and then taken whatever innocence I had left for himself. He claimed to hate lies but he was a hypocrite.

I’m yours,he’d said.

It was a lie.

Because I might’ve been Jack’s, but he’d made one thingabsolutelyclear tonight:

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