Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
Naturally.
Vaden tenses in his chair. “No.”
“Who?” I ask, folding my arms in front of myself.
“The same man who cut you was the one who cornered us, Halen. He’s what they call a Baker—" White noise pierces through my ears as the room shifts sideways and the pain in my side returns. “Hey!” War’s arm is around my back, helping me stand straight. “You good?”
I stare blankly at him, before looking around the room and resting a little longer on War before going back to my brother. “You all underestimate us.”
Priest’s eyes narrow. Oh, how the tables have turned.
“Let up on her.” War makes his way to the opposite side of the room, opening the curtains and looking out to the puffy clouds in the sky. “Pretty sure she can handle it.”
Silence.
War Malum, always there to take my hand. Even if it is to lead me to hell.
“So?” I ask, glaring around at all three of them. “Why are we on Riddler?”
Vaden raises his glass to his lips, his eyes landing on mine. They flash with a dark shadow. “Because we want to play a game.”
My mouth slams shut. I ignore the way his answer sends ice down my spine. “Do I even want to ask with who?”
“Did it not cross your mind…” War’s tone gets louder as he comes close behind me. “That it could be you?”
I swallow past the lump in my throat, my eyes finding Priest out of instinct. He doesn’t give me anything, one brow raised slightly and a snide smirk on his face.
I love my brother, but he’s a hard man to love. He always has been. You love him, but you’ll always question if he loves you. It didn’t matter to me. Mine was unconditional through and through, and when I was old enough to figure out this was what he was like, I had already decided that I would love him enough for the both of us. But for this reason, I knew that the second I agreed to step completely into the family order, I’d lose any softness that he ever had for me.
And it wasn’t a lot to begin with.
Nodding, I straighten my shoulders and turn, surprised to see just how close War is. “Because I already know how they’re played.”
War’s eyes search mine, azure blue framed by feathery sable lashes. His cheekbones are brutally sharp, his lips cherub soft, and his jaw…
That.
Fucking.
Jaw.
Some days I want to break it, other days I’m not sure if I just want to sit on it. We’d never so much as kissed. I hate that every time I find myself looking at him, I’m kind of envisioning what that would feel like.
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Or maybe you only know one game…”
I bring my hand up to his chest, shoving him away. “Where are we going?”
“You mean who are we going with?” War smirks. I almost forgot what it was like to be completely under his spell.
“Why don’t you go trek out to the cabin and see what’s happening?” Vaden’s tone is level, smooth, and unbothered.
I slide my feet into my Louis slippers, making my way to the door that leads out to the bar, and then farther to where the business lounge and first-class areas would be on a normal double-decker 747. On ours, it’s just cubicle bedrooms and a lounging area.
I bypass the stewardess and steward, padding down the steps that lead to the spa area and then farther down the twin stairs to the main cabin.
I pause at the entrance, blood draining from my face just as we hit turbulence and I reach out to the side to stop myself from falling.
“Halen, ma’am, you really should be back in your seat.” A hand touches my shoulder and I scan over the people in the cabin area, coming up to look through the eyes of wolf white contacts and the skull paint that we’re so famously known for.
This is the start of a game.
War was right. I hadn’t known much. They kept it simple during high school, or for the most part away from me. I didn’t know much about what they would do during the races and the games they would play then. But this? I knew this was different.
I move away as she sashays her hips through the aisle, clipping the empty glasses from the tables where people are sitting. The booths are lined more like business class. To leave it as coach wasn’t happening on my mother’s watch.
My eyes bounce over every head. I count eight heads. Every single one of them has one thing in common, and that is the skull blindfold over their eyes.
Fingers wrap around my hips, pulling me into a hard body as he shoves me back against a wall.
“Do I even want to ask?” I peer up at War with a curved brow. The area his hand is on burns as every second passes, but I don’t care. I’m starting to not care.