Page 5 of Knights Game

“The last time you got that look in your eye, I ended up serving six months in jail.”

“It was good character-building.” I grin. “I’ve been thinking,” I stand and walk around the desk, throwing my arm around his shoulder. He may not be a brother by blood but Roman is more my family than either John or Levi will ever be.

“You know that gets you in trouble.”

I throw my head back and laugh as we both step over the broken body avoiding the mess on the rug.

“You and me, Rome, we are destined for greater things. Change is coming, we either wait and risk the potential ofeverything we have done so far go to shit, or we force the hand and speed up our plans.”

His grey eyes meet mine, his interest piqued. He hates the current situation as much as I do. “What did you have in mind?”

“Liverpool isn’t the only freeport, and it just so happens I’ve got something brewing on the Thames. We can get the product straight into Central London with no additional transports in.”

“And the Covenant?”

“Is dying. We just need to put it out of its misery a little earlier.”

He stops and steps back as we reach my office door. “This isn’t a new plan, is it?” Roman asks, knowing exactly what my answer is going to be.

“Always be prepared.”

“And yet you call me the fucking boy scout.”

“Having a plan B is logical, carrying Ziplock bags and rubber gloves is downright psychotic.”

Roman raises his eyebrows and looks over his shoulder at the massacre that is Steven’s head. “And kicking someone’s head in like its nothing more than a watermelon is the action of a sensible, sane man?” He pulls open my office door as I laugh.

“Tomorrow, we plot, brother. Tonight, I have a new business venture I want to show you.”

“You best change your shoes first.”

2

Layla Johnson

My roommate’s voice sucksme out of dragon slaying and back into the real world with an inconvenient bump. I look up from my iPad on the couch. Katy’s holding a glass of wine in one hand and miraculously balancing her MacBook in the other.

“It’s that horrible time of the month again,” she says in a sing-song voice. No amount of singing will make the following ten minutes any less painful.

I groan.

I always groan at this time of the month and no it’s not because of my period.

“Have you updated the figures yet?” I ask tentatively,

“Not yet.” She passes me the wine and I scramble to move my legs out of the way before she sits on me. “Pull up your app, let’s do this.”

At least she allows me to do the honours to see just how fucked I am financially.

No money, two jobs, and very much alone. Except for my whacky roommate, best friend, confidant, oh, and financialadvisor. And, of course, my grandad. Oh, and the cat. Although he’s Katy’s.

So not completely alone.

I grab my phone, logging into my banking app, glancing at the minus number and unread notifications, I throw the phone onto the sofa cushion like it burnt me. Leaning back, I groan into my hands. “I’m screwed.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Katy reassures me, picking up the phone. Her eyes widen.

“See…screwed.”

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