Page 17 of The Game

“And why?”

He pauses his strides, pulling me up short as he faces me full-on, the bluish hues of dawn accentuating the cerulean of his eyes.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he says, motioning to himself. “I’m a fucking catch.”

Before I can stop myself, I punch his arm lightly, the warmth and softness from his hoodie making my heart clench. What I wouldn’t give to be wrapped up in a pair of strong, unrelenting arms, to feel their warmth and pressure and safety. He seems taken aback by my gesture, glancing down to where I hit him as though he’s somehow contaminated now.

“I’m being serious,” I add, brushing off that little blip. He simply shrugs.

“I’m the only man there who sees them as people, with lives and hopes and dreams. I don’t want to fuck them, don’t want to hurt them. Think it’s pretty obvious why.”

He’s right, but his answer irks me, for I still want to blame him.

“Then why don’t you help get anyone out?”

His jaw slackens in a look of dumbfounded incredulity, and he scoffs, shaking his head.

“You think it’s just that easy? They’d know it was me, and they’d kill whoever I helped and…fuck, they’d kill me, too.”

Crossing my arms against the chill, I am ready to demand that that answer is pitiful at best, but he beats me to it with a jerk of his chin.

“Why don’t you help get anyone out, hmm?”

His question pierces me more deeply than I care to admit. My eyes fall to the grimy sidewalk, the scent of the fishy sound and rotting dumpsters thick in the crisp air. He sighs.

“Look, Alice, we’re all there because they have something worth our lives hanging over our heads, okay? I know I’m not a fucking hero, so if I can simply make their lives a little easier, it’s the best I can do for now.”

Chewing my cheek, I nod.

“Like slicing my finger open.”

He smirks.

“Precisely. Figured you weren’t really into keeping it in the biological family, if you know what I mean.”

My shoulders drop along with my arms, mortification gripping me.

“Okay, but how the fuck do you know all of this shit about me?”

His smirk just widens further before he sets his duffel bag down, unzips it, and pulls out a shiny black helmet.

“Here’s where I ask you to come home with me, and I’ll show ya.”

CHAPTER10

Alice

Teddy’s apartment is on the outskirts of Seattle, in a run-down area that boasts of the most authentic Chinese food in the city. I don’t doubt it as my mouth waters egregiously at the scent of fried rice and orange chicken that seems to cling to the bricks of every building. My stomach audibly grumbles, but I’m thankful he can’t hear it over the rumble of his motorcycle.

Kicking out the stand, he kills the engine, and I immediately let go of his waist, the subtle shift of his toned muscles against my arms making me feel things I am not trying to feel at the moment. I peg it on my utter loneliness more than anything. Hopping off, I allow him to as well before I hand him back his helmet, the scent of pepper, leather, and bike exhaust thick in my nose. It’s unique, and I realize it is him, too. I find I am associating the smell with comfort now.

He thanks me, tucking his helmet back in his bag before fishing out a set of keys. Through a wrought iron gate, I follow him into a narrow courtyard, up a small flight of stone steps, and through an ancient set of oak doors. He pauses in the foyer to check his golden mailbox cubby in the wall, my eyes swishing around and taking in the classic yet run down decor. Sifting through white envelopes, he stalks to the elevators, and I follow without a word, somehow nervous all of a sudden. Is this where the freak turns on me, chops me up in his bathtub, and feeds me to the orcas out on the Puget Sound?

Instead of punching the elevator button, he takes a sharp left, heading for the fire stairs. Annoyed that I’ll have to walk even further with my blister-ridden feet, I sigh loudly and follow. He’s quick to commentate.

“Sorry, princess, not all of us can afford mansions on private property.”

At this point, I know better than to start an argument with him. He’s won every round we’ve gone. So I suck it up and follow him up three flights of stairs and through a narrow hallway. His apartment is at the very end of the hall, C 30. I make a mental note of it in case I need to…what? Tell the police? Like I trust anyone in a position of authority anymore?

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