Page 48 of Vicious Games

Fuck it.

“Grab your stuff,” I say, shoving her books into her bag.

“What are you doing?” she protests, but I’m already slinging her backpack over my shoulder.

“I’m getting us the hell out of here. If I wanted to be gawked at like a sideshow freak, I’d join a damn circus.”

I grab the back of her chair and gently nudge it out, helping her up before guiding her toward the exit.

“You’re not dragging me into the woods again, are you?” She eyes me skeptically. “Because we both know how well that ended last time.”

“I don’t need the reminder.” I grimace.

My junk still hasn’t forgiven her for that little stunt she pulled on me a week ago.

“So where are we going?”

“Not Uncle Sal’s mansion, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Her brow furrows. “Wait… Uncle Sal? So you weren’t lying. That really wasn’t your family’s house?”

“I told you it wasn’t.”

I should have kept that tidbit to myself since, as far as the world is concerned, Uncle Salvatore’s mansionismy family home. But I got a kick from her eyes almost popping out of their sockets when she thought we had more than one house.

In truth, we have more property in Chicago than even I know about, let alone around the world. But home… There’s only one place my siblings and I call home, and it’s nothing like the lavish mansion she visited.

“Did I meet him?” she asks, trying to recall if she was introduced to anyone named Sal that day.

“Can’t meet the dead.”

Her face immediately softens. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I say with a shrug. “I never met him, either. He was gone long before I was born. But he was like a father to my dad, so I guess that makes him what? A grandfather figure to me, maybe? I don’t know. But his memory lives in us, that’s for damn sure.”

There wouldn’t be an Outfit without Uncle Sal.

“You sure do have a big family,” she says softly, a strange sadness coloring her voice.

“It’s bigger than you think,” I say with a grin—one that vanishes the second I catch her frown.

Shit. Why do I always forget she doesn’t have a family?

The only people she’s got are the other orphans, like Darius, and the nuns, like her precious Sister Margaretta. Neither of which exactly rolled out the welcome mat for me.

Tact, asshole. Tact.

I clear my throat. “Anyway, I’m not taking you back to the mansion. But I do have the perfect place for our study sessions.”

“The library was fine.”

“Was it?” I arch a brow.

“Yes.” She levels me with a sharp look. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you get weird when people walk past us? It’s like you don’t want to be seen with me.” I clutch my chest dramatically. “Talk about a blow to the ego.”

“And we all know you have a big one.” She grins, her usual sass creeping back in.

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