Page 102 of Death Game: Supernatural Battle

“You don’t like something, you change it. You want something, you get it.That’sthe spoiled brat I know.”

I pried free of her grip, rubbing my jaw. “That started great.”

“It was all great,” she said savagely. “Tell me, what do you want?”

We were nose to nose, and I felt my heartbeat thudding in my ears.

“No lies, Basil,” Tommy said. “Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear. Or what others expect of you. What the fuck do you want?”

I closed my eyes.

“Open them!”

Jolting again, I obeyed. “Kyros.”

Kudos to my friend, her nose didn’t even wrinkle.

“You want him,” she repeated. “ThengetKyros.”

Words slipped from my mouth. “If I get him, then I betray my grandmother and everything she worked for.”

I slumped in defeat as my voice trailed off, avoiding Tommy’s intent chestnut gaze.

Tommy blew out a breath and perched on the desk. “That’s a moderate problem, I’ll admit.”

There was nothing moderate about it.

“Your grandmother hated Vissimo. And you’re literally banging one.”

“This is the worst pep talk I’ve ever had.” I tried to stand and she shoved me back in the chair.

“You leave when I say you leave.”

Uh,pep-talk Tommy was scary. “I can’t give up everything she worked for, Tom. Shediedbecause of this bullshit. I tried my best to keep things going, but I failed. I’ve failed everyone.”

Tommy’s eyes narrowed. “If you won the game? What was the plan?”

I blinked a few times. “The plan was that I’d make that decision in twenty years when I was smarter. Because winning would take at least that long.”

“You’re smart now, Basi. And confident too. You’re just doubting yourself.”

Felt like I’d been doubting myself for twenty-one years and nine months.

Tommy tapped my temple. “The answer is in here. As much as I’d like to advocate three months of ice-cream musical dates to get over the fucker, that’s not going to happen. You have a deadline, girl. Best get going.”

Two weeks.

Kyros could be out of my reach inthirteen days. Was there a chance to win him back? Tommy gave me hope for that possibility. In a weird yet effective way.

“Best get going,” she repeated.

I peered at her. “You already said that.”

“Yeah, but in motivational things, they always chant a slogan. Haven’t you seenGood Will Hunting?” She slapped my knee. “Best get going.”

“Ouch. Stop hitting me!”

“Best get going.”

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