Page 2 of The Game

The same look paints his features now. It is almost as devastating as realizing what we’ve lost. I love my brother. He is the only thing on this planet worth fighting for, worth caring for. As much as I know I need to step in, step up and lead, I simply can’t. Everything has crumbled.

Our business. Our clients. Our home.

Our lives.

And all because of her, a beautiful little traitor, a snake pretending to be a bunny. We were duped; millions of dollars were passed to her after one night of her pleading, and the next morning, she was gone. Gone from our lives faster than she dropped into them. The hole she’s left behind is confusing; we want to be angered, want to wring her fucking pretty little neck, but we do not understand how someone can turn on the ones they claim to love that quickly.

I can blame Tristan all I want for killing her father, but I helped. I held him over the flames. Carved him up. Brought him back to life just for Tristan to play with him some more. Alice knew; she knew his time was limited, she knew if he crossed another boundary, we would protect what was ours.

It still plays on a loop in my mind every night, this game of chasing reason. Like following a white rabbit through the darkest forest, only to have it disappear around every bend. She never gave a reason, and all she left behind was pain and the echo of her devastating words.

With a heavy sigh, I raise my eyes to my brother’s, but he is staring into the dying flames, jaw working as he grinds his teeth.

“Do you think any of it was real?” he finally whispers, his voice hoarse, his eyes refusing to meet mine. I know why; he doesn’t want to appear weak, even to me. Frowning, I consider my answer carefully.

“Something…something changed. And quickly. I do believe it was real until that point.”

When his eyes flash to mine, they are hardened to steel, brows slanted angrily.

“Then we find out what.”

“It was us killing her father. You realize that, right?”

He shakes his head, refusing to see my logic—logic I cling to desperately to make sense of what happened. It doesn’t make sense to me, either, but the best I can do now is protect Tristan from his own demons as I always have.

“No. Something else had to have happened. She knew—”

My phone rings, vibrating across my cluttered desk, bumping into random pens. Nick Fordson’s name flashes upon the screen, and my mouth runs dry; we’ve not heard from him in a few months. He’s given us our space, relying more on Maks for issues that need his type of solving. Clutching my phone, I slide my thumb across the bottom of the screen to answer before I press the cool glass to my ear.

“Privet?”

“I need your help.”

Tristan’s brows draw together as I hold tightly, a questioning look on his face. Setting my lips in a thin line, I consider telling him no, but something in his voice is desperate, unhinged.

Standing straighter, I hold my finger up to Tristan when he takes a step closer.

“With?” I ask carefully.

“I need help finding Ellie.”

Fire licks up my veins; she’s one small connection to Alice. It’s no secret Nick is obsessed with her, has been stalking her since last fall. The rumor is she turned down his marriage proposal, and he clearly didn’t take it well. But if she’s gone…

“Where did you last see her?”

“Airport. Her father boarded a flight to Europe. She never landed. I…” The way he trails off has goosebumps peppering my skin. It’s clear he cares for the girl in his own twisted way, whether she returns that or not. If Greg Beaumont is on the loose, we’re all fucked. If Ellie Beaumont has disappeared, it’s less meaningful to us, but Nick’s obsessions are few and far between, and she’s somehow burrowed her way deep under his thick skin.

In the same way, Ellie has become a beacon to us, a way to keep tabs on Alice since she’s ensured to block us on every front. I’ve had to drag Tristan away from Nick’s brother, Jonah, more times than I can count. Kid has a gift with hacking any and all phones, computers—even cars. So if Ellie has disappeared, our one link to Alice has as well, and in knowing what Ellie’s father used to do for Nick’s father…her sudden departure is foreboding.

Tristan stalks closer to the front of my desk as my heart hammers against my ribs. Our eyes stay locked as I consider this carefully. Tristan will say yes, fuck the consequences. He’s as hopelessly addicted to that woman as I am. Restoring our tenuous link to her while aiding someone like Nick Fordson is a win-win.

Premonition still pricks at the back of my neck like eyes watching me from the shelter of the darkest forest. Because I have a feeling that if we do this, whatever we unearth isn’t going to be necessarily good. People—women especially—don’t just randomly disappear without cause. And in our world, it is almost worse than a death sentence. The trembling of Nick’s voice tells me he knows this.

“We’ll help,” I say as calmly as I can manage. Nick releases a breath.

“Good. Alice—”

“We don’t speak,” I hiss bitterly. There is a weighted pause, one so heavy it digs its claws into my heart and drags it down, down, down. Tristan sets his knuckles on my desk, his face coming into dark, clear contrast now.

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