Page 16 of Wicked Games

“Howdidyou get up here?”

“Not really sure.” He grabs my offered hand and lets me pull him so he’s sitting. “A lot of it is a blur.”

“Did you see anyone on your way up?”

The house members might not be all that jazzed at having an outsider in our midst, but I can’t see any of them ignoring him in this state. Even if they don’t give a fuck about him or his well-being, they’d at least recognize that an attack on one person under our roof is an attack on all of us.

“Not that I remember.”

He groans when I get my arms under him, and his body is limp and heavy as I carefully get us both on our feet.

“Ow,” he half moans, half whimpers as I tuck him against my side and wrap his arm over my shoulder.

“I’ll drop you if you puke on me,” I warn as I hold his waist and lock him against me.

“Noted,” he mumbles, stumbling clumsily along as I drag him out of the bathroom.

He can’t seem to get himself together enough to help me, but I get him to his bed and sit him on the edge. He immediately puts his head in his hand and slumps forward.

I kneel in front of him. He doesn’t resist as I push his hands out of the way so I can see his injury.

“Why are you being nice to me?” he asks in a breathy voice I’ve never heard him use.

“Because being a dick right now would be like kicking a kitten.” I tilt his head toward the light so I can see his injuries better. “It’s not fun when you can’t fight back.”

The bump is bigger than I thought since most of it is covered by his thick hair. The bruise is big and angry looking, the dark stain stark against his chalky skin.

Gently, I run my thumb over it. His skin is warm, and the bump is hard and pronounced, but he doesn’t wince or pull away.

“Who did this to you?”

“Why do you think someone did this?”

I shoot him a flat look and drop my hand. “You swim like you’re half fish, and you have more swimming trophies than Jace has knives.”

“Fair point.” He offers me a tiny smile. “I have no idea who it was. He was wearing black and had a hood up. I didn’t see his face.”

“What exactly happened?”

“I was doing laps and saw someone on the deck when I was coming up to the end of the pool. They scared the shit out of me, and I missed my turning window.” He pointed to his head. “I got this because I was going too fast to stop and hit the side of the pool.”

I’ve seen how fast Felix can swim, and he’d only have a few seconds to try and protect himself if he saw his attacker when he was almost at the wall. “Then what happened?”

“He grabbed my head and held me underwater while I was stunned. I got away and he ran.”

“Did you see anything that might help identify him?”

He shakes his head. “I was too busy trying to not drown and coughing up all the water I swallowed. And he turned off the lights when he ran, so I literally saw nothing for a long-ass time.”

Whoever did this is diabolically smart to leave him in complete darkness while he was incapacitated. Or they’re lucky and just happened to make a good choice when they panicked and ran.

“And you didn’t see anything before that? No one else in the room, no marks, a distinctive mask? Anything?”

He shakes his head again. “They were in the shadows.”

I chew on my bottom lip for a few beats and try to make sense of what he just told me.

“Why do you care?” he asks, his voice so soft it’s barely above a whisper.

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