Page 48 of Wicked Games

“Next question is for Tate. What’s your secret hobby?” Maverick said, eyes shooting to the other side of the table.

Tate sighed. “I don’t really have any hobbies apart from watching TV, so I’m gonna go ahead and guess the Game Master wants me to admit my little extracurricular activity to everyone,” he said. “I deal drugs. So fucking what? It’s hardly a secret.”

“I didn’t know about it,” Courteney said in a small voice.

“I’ll type in ‘drug dealing’ and see what comes up,” Maverick said, fingertips flying over the keyboard. He pressed enter and nodded. “Yup, it says it’s true. We have our third number. Next question is for Jasmine.”

Jasmine shifted nervously in her seat. “What is it?”

“Who are you sleeping with?”

Jasmine averted her eyes and rubbed her forehead. “Is there another skip option?”

“No, because you’re not dead,” Maverick snapped. “Just answer the question. Unless you want us all to die.”

She sighed. “Mr. Callahan,” she muttered. “I’ve been sleeping with him.”

“The history teacher?” Brooke said, eyes like saucers.

“Yes.” Jasmine was still refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. “It’s not a big deal. He’s only twenty-three. Let’s just go to the next question, okay?”

“Uh… itisa big deal. Firstly, he’s married, and secondly, he’s in a position of power over you as your teacher. That’s why it’s fuckingillegal,” Zach said.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this,” Kiara added with an injured sniff. “I thought we were best friends.”

Maverick lifted a hand. “Jasmine’s right. We need to move on to the next question. We can discuss everything else later if we want to. The next one’s—” He abruptly stopped midsentence, and his jaw set like granite. “The next one’s for me.”

“What is it?” Hudson asked, thin mouth curving into a smirk.

Maverick remained silent.

“Let me read it.” Rhys stood, leaned over the table, and snatched the laptop from him. “Maverick, whose fault is it that your brother died two years ago?”

A flush was creeping up Maverick’s neck, betraying the turmoil inside as he struggled to maintain his composure.

“Answer the question,” Rhys said. “Now.”

“Fine.” Maverick rearranged his features, attempting to affect a neutral expression, but his gaze remained haunted. “It was my fault. Write that.”

Rhys tapped in four letters. M-I-N-E. “It’s true,” he said, glancing upward. “We have our fifth number.”

I stared at Maverick, eyes widening. Before now, I didn’t have the faintest clue that he had a brother, let alone that he’d apparently caused his death. A dark curiosity gnawed at me, craving more of the story, but his stoic, unwavering expression told me that he had no intention of divulging any of the details. Especially not to me.

His eyes flicked over to me again. As our gazes met, his lips contorted into a scowl, but beneath the veneer of anger, I could sense a profound melancholy. Whatever happened to his brother had clearly messed him up.

Embarrassed to have been caught staring, I quickly dropped my gaze from Maverick’s face to the laptop screen, which I could see from my seat now that Rhys had it. The next question was for April.

I looked over at her as Rhys read it out. “April, where did you go on winter break two years ago?”

“Chamonix, right?” Brooke said, forehead crinkling.

April shook her head and hugged her arms around herself.

“But… that’s what you told us,” Brooke said.

“If you weren’t skiing in France, what were you doing?” Rhys asked. “C’mon, April. Everyone has to answer. You know that.”

April finally spoke up. “I was at a place called Elmwood. It’s an in-patient eating disorder treatment center. I, um…” She trailed off and rubbed her chin, looking down at the table. “I used to have a problem. Bulimia.”

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