Page 1 of Cold Hard Truth

Prologue

Sage

The game has barelystarted, and adrenaline’s already rushing through me.

Win or lose is where I’m in my element. One-on-one, where it’s just me against him. That’s what I’m good at.

My character pops up on the screen a second before the green behemoth Nick created appears on the other end. We stand face-to-face while the timer counts down, and the moment it rings out, my fingers squeeze the controller.

One attack after another, I come at him full force.

“Burning through all your cooldowns right out the gate. Not smart, Sage,” Nick taunts me from across the couch.

Xavier’s on the other side of him smoking a joint, and my contact high has me grinning.

“Jealous you’re already losing, Nick?” I fire back.

“I’m not losing to your scrawny ass.”

“I’m thirteen. What’s your excuse?”

Nick tenses at my comment a second before I land another solid hit that takes a third of his character’s health. It’s too easy when it doesn’t take much to distract him.

Nick might be ten years older than me, but he’s not much bigger. Which all the guys at the club know is a huge soft spot for him. And if he was a good guy, I might feel guilty about pointing it out to win a video game. But what Nick lacks in physical size, he makes up for by being the biggest asshole in the club. So he deserves it.

“I grew up playing this game.” Nick slides to the left, dodging my next attack while striking me for a solid quarter of my health. “Don’t know who you think you are, kid.”

I grin, mashing the buttons on my controller and sending Nick flying backward. “Good luck, old man. Thiskidis going to kick your fucking ass.”

“Fuck off.” Nick grinds his teeth.

“Language.” Nick’s old lady schools us as she walks past us to the kitchen, but I ignore her.

Across the room, a few of the guys are spewing profanities. I’m surrounded by it, so I’m not sure why she cares.

It doesn’t matter if I’m thirteen, I was born and raised in this place. Cursing is the least concerning thing I’ve witnessed at the Twisted Kings clubhouse. I wasn’t even nine the first time I saw people fucking in front of me.

Sex, drugs, torture.

I don’t even flinch anymore because I was trained not to. My dad is the vice president and I’m his prodigy. A fewfucksandshitsshould be the least of everyone’s concerns, considering what I’m subjected to.

“Sorry, Bea,” Nick shouts back at his girl, not taking his eyes off the television as he gets me with a solid hit.

“Sage, Reed, get out here,” Dad calls across the clubhouse. “Now.”

“Fuck,” I grumble, trying to finish the round, but Nick still has too much health left after he hits the button that restores half of what I just took.

“Your daddy needs you.” Nick shoves my arm.

Tossing the controller on the table, I groan. I was sixty seconds away from finally kicking Nick’s ass, and his smug expression as he aims for my head on the screen and takes the shot has me fuming.

Nick might be older, but it doesn’t stop him from acting like more of a kid than I am.

“Next time.” I grind my teeth.

“You said that last time.” Nick’s character stands over my body and does some stupid dance.

“Fuck you.” I flip him off.

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