Page 117 of Dark Little Game
My brother’s hands are on my chest before I can say anything more.
He shoves me up against the wall, anger snapping out of him in a way I’ve never seen before in my life.
I’ve always been a better fighter than him, and he’s always known it.
Which is why it takes me by complete surprise when he slams me into the hard bookshelf, my arm hitting the edge of a hardbound book as my spine connects with the wood.
“Weston,” I say, but it’s too late. “Let me talk.”
“Fuck no.” There’s a blind, bitter desperation in his eyes.
This is about more than just the notes.
It’s about the text our father sent us earlier today, yes.
But it’s also about years and years of built-up frustration that Weston’s never been able to channel anywhere except the football field.
“Wes, please,” Rayne says from beside him, jumping in immediately and trying to pull my brother back.
“Rayne, I love you, but don’t fucking touch me right now,” Wes says through clenched teeth, still staring right at me. “This is between me and him.”
“Hunter isn’t trying to kill you, Wes. Let himtalk?—”
“He’s been the one who’s always talked, for our entire fucking life,” Wes says. “When is it my turn? Why am I always the afterthought? Why don’t you ever have consequences for a goddamned thing you do, Hunter, even when it’s a sick prank on me like putting a note in a box thatmakes me think I’m going to die?”
I reach up and calmly try to put my hands around Weston’s wrists, attempting to pry him off of me.
But he just doubles down, slamming me back into the shelves again.
Another few guys have heard the commotion. They’re in the hall, looking into the reading room.
“That’s not what happened, Wes.”
“Please, Weston, just let him speak,” Rayne is begging.
I pull in a slow breath, and I realize that my brother isn’t going to let me go until I talk.
So I talk.
“I found the notes. When I came home from class today, they were on the table in the entryway, with another little piece of paper that saidfor the secret box, sorry I’m late.I thought it must have been one of the guys who was really worried about his secrets being read, because the notes had those big wax seals on them. So I went upstairs and slid them into the box, along with my actual secret. Ask Noah. He wasinhis bedroom when I went there, and he watched me put them in.”
“Go get Noah,” Weston says as he turns to one of the guys in the hall.
A minute later he’s there, and he sighs as he sees us like this.
“Wes, let him go,” Noah says with a sadness in his voice.
“Did you see him put those notes into that box?”
“I saw him put his own in.”
I bite down on the inside of my cheek. “And right behind it, I had the other ones. They just weren’t visible behind mine. I swear it, on Lune.”
Weston’s eyes widen for a moment.
And heknowsit’s the truth, now that I’ve said the one thing I fucking hate saying.
Weston finally lets me go, and I smooth out my shirt.
