Page 39 of The Game

I can’t help but grin, pretty drunk as they help me fight my way to the front edge of the stage. Teddy doesn’t see me at first until Cash goes into a solo and he backs away with his mic, but when those blazing eyes fall to mine, his answering grin is so wide, sweat casting him in a dewy glow. He slicks back his hair, eyes locked on mine as he pulls his mic back to his lips and drops his voice low, catching the tune to sing it to completion, something magical and transformative and ancient transpiring between us.

And I seem to know, without anything being said, that our relationship is about to change.

CHAPTER 21

Tristan

“We have no choice.”

“Yes, we fucking do,” I hiss to my twin. He’s currently throwing shirts into his suitcase half-heartedly, not bothering to fold them into neat little stacks like the anal-retentive asshole he normally is. Which, surprisingly, just pisses me off more. Releasing an exasperated sigh, he levels me with a dark look.

“We won’t be gone long.”

“And in the meantime, what happens? Alice is just supposed to be stuck in that fucking shithole?”

“You heard Maks. There’s more at stake, and we need to move with caution. This whole thing can blow if we’re not careful.”

Fuming, my hands begin to tremble, and he cocks his brow at me in warning. If we were still teens, I’d have him locked in a half-nelson right about now. Maybe I am getting better at controlling my impulses, but I don’t feel like acknowledging that, especially not aloud to him.

After Maks’ intel and subsequent kidnapping of Aria (she’s safe, I’m sure. He’s just a possessive fucker), we’d all had to reconvene and come at this from a different angle. The board is now set with identifiable characters, which means we have a better grasp of how to proceed—but on the downside, it’s much worse than any of us thought.

For starters, Alice’s old math teacher is the one who runs that fucking circus, siphoning off clients from the Underworld who are dumb enough to believe we have a hand in it. We don’t, and that will be rectified soon. So far, that fucker is number one on my hit list. He also has a son, and after a little more digging, we’d uncovered the gruesome truth; they are related to Alice.

Killing her father inadvertently put a massive target on her back, one where evil eyes and dangerous men were ready to move in for the kill the moment our backs were turned. After mulling this insight over with Nick, who then spoke with Ellie, we believe Alice was coerced; those fuckers knew we’d never leave her side long enough to allow them to kidnap her, so they’d had to be more cunning.

The jump was simple; she’s probably been led to believe she’s protecting us, and whether that is a lie or not, it’s worked. Jonah is still working out the kinks in that theory, looking for anyone who may have been easily bought off, someone who may have been spying on us, ready to lunge for the kill if she disobeyed. It’s all about revenge, this game we now play, and we will not fucking lose.

Until we know for sure on Jonah’s end, we’re stuck; if we move in to get her out of there, it will topple more than we realize, for Ellie remembers being filtered through that dank, underground circus the night of her kidnapping, her descriptions matching Maks’ at every turn. With Violet still missing, we have reason to believe she was also sent there first before being shipped off. Which leads us to here and now: our flight for Bangkok leaves in three hours, the location Ellie was destined for.

We have some loose leads on Violet, and Maks would be irrevocably indebted to us if we found her. He’d go himself, save for the fact he used his face to infiltrate their ring once already, and word travels fast in our world. It is no longer the best decision to use him for reconnaissance.

The thought of leaving behind Alice—no matter where she is—makes me sick to my stomach. The thought of what she could possibly be enduring in that place makes my skin crawl and my limbs shake with rage. I will burn it to the fucking ground as soon as I am able, for nothing will stop my retribution, even if they never touched her. They took her from us, from her home, from the men who love her unconditionally.

Guilt gnaws at me for thinking she ran willingly, for being angry at her sudden departure. I should’ve never expected anything less of her; of course she would do anything in her power to protect us, even if her decision was stupid. We cannot blame her anymore, for we realize our own fault in this—we never taught her the dangers of this life, not really. We lived in our own little fairytale while she was in school, playing house and fucking like rabbits every moment we could.

It’s one of my most bitter pieces of regret, not sharing with her what to do in each and every situation that could have arisen, not teaching her self-defense, how to reach us discreetly for help, who to trust aside from us and Nick. But as angry as I am, I can’t see the solution as clearly as Jameson can, and it pisses me off more.

“Still don’t know why we can’t just go in guns-a-fucking-blazing,” I grumble, resignedly scratching at my jaw. Jameson snorts as he holds two pairs of socks in his hands, deciding which to pack before he tosses one bundle over his shoulder, the fabric bouncing across his unmade bed.

“You really want to risk that? It’s not just about Alice, dipshit. If we do that, there’s at least twenty other girls there working who’re probably in the same position asbabochka. We’d be signing their death certificates. We’d be losing all the leads on Violet, on the men who took Ellie. We have to be patient.”

Crossing my arms, I snort.

“Easy for you to fucking say.”

He chuckles half-heartedly, the longer we go without seeing even a glimpse of her weighing heavily on both our shoulders. Now that we know she wasn’t faking our relationship, it’s given us time to calm down slightly, to feel that guilt at assuming otherwise, and to fine-tune our plans to get her back.

As soon as Nick gets the intel he needs, and as soon as we find solid leads on Violet, we’re free to move in, to take back what is ours and show her unending love and affection while smearing the walls with the blood of those who took her from us. The thought alone hardens my cock. Our reunion will be blissful, more beautiful even than our first time together, for I’ve conjured up about a million of the most depraved ways we can show her why we fell in love in the first place.

“Do you think she’ll be different, after?” I mutter softly. Jameson’s shoulders grow tense, and he refuses to meet my eye. I know what he is thinking, though; I always do.

“Depends on what she’s been through.”

His answer deflates me and enrages me. Seeing Ellie bruised and broken was enough to bring me to my fucking knees. Imagining that happening to Alice? There are no words for the fury it would cause me. We don’t understand how Nick is keeping it together. Which is why time is of the essence, which is also why I don’t want to fucking go to Bangkok, even though I know my hands are tied.

If it helps us get to Alice, so be it. If we have to burn this fucking world to the ground to avenge what’s been done to each one of them, so be it.

And if it costs me my soul?

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