Page 101 of The Games We Play
“There’s never going to be a good time to do this.”
He’s right.
There isn’t.
I’ve been rushing between school, my house, Spark’s house, and the club while he finds his feet. Saint and Vex have been the best taxi drivers, given my busted-up car. I’m tired and filled with so much nervous energy I feel like my heart will explode. But we’re going home today, one way or another.
I’ve been wearing this brace on my arm for three weeks, and it’s all my uncle’s fault. I wanted to message Cillian and tell him I know, but Spark told me to wait. Timing is everything now, he said. That it was too early to tell if revealing that information is useful to us. And he needed time to recover from the beating he took. Time for his stitches to at least start to heal. He didn’t want to be caught in a position where he was unable to protect me or himself.
But, today, everything changes.
We’re going to tell the club what my uncle asked of me, and we’re going to tell them that I was run off the road because I refused. It’s almost true, and that’s our best plan that keeps me on the right side of the club.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask. “It’s a lot to take on Michael’s care. And I can’t repay you, at least not immediately.”
Spark sits on a stool that he took from the kitchen and pulls me between his knees. “I take care of what’s mine. You’re mine. And Michael’s yours. Call Cillian’s bluff. You want to stay home and care for him, I’ll earn enough for us all. You wanna work and get specialists to care for him, your salary can cover part of it while I take care of us all.”
I can’t help but reach out and touch his cheek. The swelling is reducing, but the bruising is in full effect. “Basically, you ‘take care of us all’ in every scenario.”
He tugs me to him, his body warm as it lines up with mine. “Yup.” The kiss he places on the side of my head makes me feel gooey inside.
“What if I want to take care of you?”
“You already do. I sleep better because of you. And because you’ve promised to stick with me while I deal with ...” He shrugs. “You know.”
He’s going to call the VA today to get help with his PTSD. “I’ll walk every step with you. I promise.”
Spark grabs his phone and opens the group message for patched-in members. “Only King is supposed to do this,” he says as he types. “But if we’re going to blow the doors off, we might as well do it right.”
His thumb hovers overSend. When I press my thumb over his, we hit the button together.
Church. One hour.
We watch as responses start to pour in.
Vex:Will be there
Saint:Thirty minutes away
Niro:Is this legit, @king?
King:Is it @spark? Call me.
Spark:I’ve got good reason. Just trust me and show the fuck up.
He places his phone on the bedside table and takes my hand. “Now. I need you to strip.”
My eyes whip to his. “What?”
He pushes the waistband of his shorts down over his hips, plants himself back on the stool, and palms himself. “I learned something that night when you came back from Cillian’s. When you let that head of yours get too cluttered, you make bad choices. So I’m gonna help you empty those thoughts before we go speak to my brothers. Strip.”
He’s right about the cluttered mind and bad choices. “We can’t do this now. I can’t just go from knowing we’re about to reveal huge secrets to being turned on.
But he simply continues to stroke himself, and he’s getting harder. He huffs and rolls his neck from side to side. Then, without warning he grabs me and spins me so my back is to him, and I realize why the stool’s here. It’s the perfect height.
“You planned this,” I say.
He presses his lips to my neck as he unfastens the button on my wide-leg pants, and they slip to the floor. His fingers find their way into my panties and he slides two inside me, proving me a liar. It appears Icango from terror to arousal in two seconds. “I did. You can thank me by wrapping me up in your pussy and making me come.”
