Page 55 of Drop His Mask

The darkness of her hair, the arch of her brow, the jut of her nose, the fullness of her lips, the curve of her hips.

I love you and miss youso fucking much.

Raven and Sparrow were his sole reasons to carry on. To shoulder the burden of an impossible title. To accept his fate that while he might have won his life, he was now a prisoner for the rest of his days.

I can’t be Julian. I have to change. I have to accept that I am now a game warden.

Before he could think it through, he ripped up the picture, shredding it as thoroughly as his damaged and shaky fingers would allow. Collecting the pieces, he let out one last sob before walking to the toilet and flushing them away.

Sparrow was bad enough, but he couldn’t let anyone else know of his ties to Raven.

Inside a place as cruel as this, love would be his downfall. Any sign of weakness and the sharks would smell blood. They would come for him and use it against him.

In this hell he was not a man.

He was The Game Warden.

Chapter 29

Infected

Raven

Present Day

My hands trembled as I buried one into my sweatpants, the other still clutching the podium to keep me steady. I attempted to stand on my own two feet as my platform continued its incline, but searing pain shot through me, pulsating around my side where I had been sewn up.

Needing to see what the source of my problem was, I lifted my shirt and gulped down my nausea. The skin around my stitches was red and swollen.

It’s infected.

That would be a problem for future me, but right now, I needed to figure out what I wasgoing to do.

While I wasn’t overly close to 197, hehadrisked his life to save mine in the mancala round. And besides that, even if 195 was the smallest of their group, he was still biggerthanme. And he wasn’t injured as I was.

The rule kept bouncing around in my skull. How was I supposed to get him off that bridge?

The siren blared.

So wrapped up in my own anxiety and nerves, I hadn’t realized that it was already time to begin the round.

My head jerked up, and I found that 195 was creeping across the metal bridge. Quietly, carefully; reminiscent of afeline.

What am I supposed to do?

“I am not going to hurt you. I just want to talk first. Please,” he purred, as he continued his careful movement closer.

The bridge creaked but held.

Standing up to my full height as steadily as I could, I jutted out my chin and discretely leaned further against the podium.

I wasn’t sure if I trusted 195, but this wasn’t our first game together, and in the last one, he hadn’t hurt me.

He hadn’t exactly helped me either, but that was neither here nor there. His chestnut eyes bore into mine as he took the last few steps onto my platform.

Tensing, I expected him to attack, to lunge at me, but instead he fell to the ground crossing his legs.

“Let’s talk.” He patted the spot across from him.

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