Play the Game: Hannaford Prep Year Three

by J Bree

  I snort at her and send her a photo of my back for good measure. She video calls me back.

  “Where are you going? Has Harley seen that yet?”

  I shrug. “I’m finishing my last job. Harley knows the score, you can’t go to the docks without showing some skin.”

  Avery smirks at me and still manages to look like an evil queen while wearing her fluffy Chanel robe. “Oh, I’m sure he’s positively thrilled about it. Ash just took a call from him and they’re gossiping like housewives for their book club.”

  I snort at her and twirl to get a feel of how much movement I still have.

  Avery cackles down the phone. “I just saw a nipple so unless you want Harley ripping that off of you before you make it out the door you will need more tape.”

  I grimace and end the call, with Avery still sounding far too amused at my expense.

  Once I’ve taped what feels like every-fucking-thing down, I flounce out of the bathroom and stand in front of the full-length mirror in the living room. I dance around and shake my butt to make sure it’s secure, I even throw in a slut drop for good measure.

  I hear a strangled sort of noise and then a choking cough behind me.

  Harley is sitting at the bench looking fucking devastating in his dark jeans and tight white shirt. My breath catches in my chest for a second before I see the look in his eyes as he watches me. His laptop is still on the table but the screen has been turned around so Ash and Blaise can see my outfit. Ah. They’ve just been watching me dance Mounty-style. Oops. I give them a little awkward wave.

  “Fuck. Pick something else to wear.” chokes out Blaise and Ash snorts at him.

  “She can wear whatever the fuck she wants. Don’t be a dick.”

  Harley rubs the back of his neck and grumbles, “I’d prefer it if you wore a bra though. Fuck me, I’m going to be fucking busy tonight. One of you two will pay my bail, right?”

  Ash nods and waves a hand at me. “Do another one of those squat things. Slowly.”

  I blush and laugh at him. I go back to the bedroom and grab my phone, flicking through the songs until I find something with a decent beat to dance to. When I come back out Harley looks up at me and smirks when I start the song. He was born and bred in the Bay so he knows what’s coming. The other two have no clue how Mounty’s party.

  “No filming.” I warn him sternly and he holds up his hands in a mock surrender.

  It feels kind of strange to dance by myself, with three sets of eyes on me, but I’ve spent every summer in a party of some kind working and music lives in my soul. I shut my eyes and just let myself move with the music, not trying to be sexy or seductive, but knowing that to prim rich kids the Mounty-style will look fucking erotic.

  When the song finishes, I glance up and Harley is fucking sweating.

  Damn, does that make me feel good.

  Blaise is gaping at me and Ash looks ready to drive the fuck down here. I shiver, and only the thick silicone of the bra stops my hard nipples from being on display. Harley’s eyes darken dangerously as he watches my thighs rub together.

  The knock at the door freezes me in place.

  Harley glances away from me to frown at the sound and Ash swears viciously. I bend at the waist and motion for the two on the video call to stay silent, then I check the peephole. There’s a giant mass of tattooed muscle and silvery-blond hair standing on the doorstep.

  Sweet fucking lord.

  Harley is going to have a fucking aneurysm.

  I sigh and unlock the door. Before I open it, I meet Harley’s eyes over my shoulder and say, as calmly as I can, “I know you disagree with me, but I swear to you, he’s a good guy. I trust him. Just stay calm and hear him out. It must be important if he’s here.”

  And then Johnny Illium, the Butcher of the Bay, or just plain Illi to me, sweeps me into a bone-crushing hug. I do not care that he’s the most notorious cage fighter and enforcer-for-hire amongst the Twelve; I don’t do hugs.

  “Get the fuck off me, I’m not a hugger!” I gasp out and he grunts at me.

  “Neither am I. That’s from Odie. She told me to tell you to fucking call her, she misses listening to you bitch her out for doing things normal people do.” He drops me to the floor and kicks the door shut, flicking the lock like it’s his house to keep safe. Harley, honest to god, looks like he’s going to kill me and then himself.

  “This place is better than last year. You trying to impress your boyfriend?” Illi says, his voice teasing like the ass he is, and sprawls himself down into one of the dining chairs like he’s a regular visitor to the townhouse. He wiggles his eyebrows at me in a way I’m sure he’s hoping will piss said boyfriend off.

  Harley does look fucking livid, and a little like he’s going to vomit. I wince. If the Wolf is whispered about on the streets of Mounts Bay, then the Butcher is the man screamed about at parties and bars when people want to instill fear on their audience of choice.

  “I thought I’d stop by to be properly introduced to the boy the Jackal is willing to risk everything to kill.” He shrugs out of his leather jacket and hangs it over another seat. He sees the laptop and the open chat room and gives the guys a little mocking wave before snapping it shut. Ash is going to lose his mind.

  I groan at him. “Really, Illi? You couldn’t just call me? Or warn me you were coming? We are just about to head out.”

  He nods along with me. “Cool. Where are we going?”

  “Like fuck am I letting her go anywhere with you.” snaps Harley and I give him what I hope is a stern look. He ignores it, and me, completely.

  Illi smirks at him. “You’re adorable. The Wolf doesn’t need a fucking keeper, so cut your shit. I came here to tell you the Jackal offered to triple whatever sum you paid me. He’s put a hit out on the O’Cronin kid.”

  I snort. “He can’t. Not without answering to the Twelve.”

  Illi cocks his head at me. “He’s put it out amongst the underlings he knows will risk the wrath it’ll bring and he can easily pin the whole idea on. Not many took it up, because they know it goes against you, but there are a few who accepted.”

  “And you?” snarls Harley, “Are you here to kill me?”

  “I turned him down.” Illi says with a shrug. Well, I assume he was trying to shrug, the thick ropes of muscles that band across his shoulders make it look a little ridiculous. His fingers twitch and I know he’s itching for a cigarette. I never let him smoke around me.

  I know exactly what statement Illi has just made but Harley has no real experience in our world, and he’s still eyeing Illi like he’s an atomic bomb about to level the city. “And what is that going to cost us?” He snaps.

  Illi quirks his eyebrow and swings around to give me an incredulous look. I snort and roll my eyes at him. “I’m not his keeper either. He can speak to you however he wants and, well, if it pisses you off, I’ll only step in if I think you’ll kill him. No killing him, Illi.”

  Illi glares a warning at Harley and then swings back to me. “That’s not all I’m here for, I’m afraid. The meeting will be postponed. You’ll need to come back down during the fall break. I thought I’d warn you before the Crow reaches out to you.”

  My spine snaps straight. Meetings don’t get canceled. Illi eyes Harley again, and I grit my teeth. Fucking boys!

  “This is the part where I’m asking for something fucking big from you, little Wolf.” Illi grimaces and stares at Harley for a beat longer.

  I wave my hand at him and say, “Harley’s mine. Whatever it is, won’t leave this room.”

  Harley’s eyebrows raise but he gives Illi a curt nod.

  “The Vulture is dead.”

  Fuck.

  Oh, sweet lord fuck.

  I meet Illi’s eyes and nod slowly. “So, you’re mine now, too.”

  Harley blanches but we both ignore him. Illi scrubs a hand over his face. “I didn’t intend on asking but when the Jackal approached me about your boy, he brought up Odie… I can’t leave her open to any
thing hurting her. Again.”

  I’m nodding before he finishes. “I know. You’re mine, both of you. Between us, we’ll keep her safe.”

  Harley looks between us and grinds out, “How does the death of that sick fuck suddenly mean you’re inducting him? I thought you wanted to stay away from this world, how does taking on the Butcher keep you free?”

  Illi cracks his knuckles absently but Harley watches the move carefully. “The Vulture sold my wife. Twice. I told little Wolf years ago that his death would be mine.”

  Harley bursts out of his chair. It’s a testament to how confident Illi is of his abilities he doesn’t so much as flinch. “You’ve killed a member of the Twelve and now you want to risk Lips by having her take you in?! Fuck. That.”

  I hold up a hand. “Illi and Odie are in. I should have done it years ago when you asked. I might’ve been able to get away from the Jackal sooner if I had.”

  Harley rocks back on his heels. “You’ve asked her before?”

  If these two don’t get along my life will get fucking complicated and fast. I can’t even think about how much Ash and Blaise would both hate this.

  Illi pauses for a second, and then sighs. “My Odie is alive because of the Wolf. If anything happened to her, there is no reason for me to continue breathing. I’ve asked Lips to induct me before, and I told her that even if she didn’t accept, I would answer any call to arms from her.”

  And he had. One phone call to him back at Hannaford and he’d met us at the docks ready to throw down with the Jackal, whatever the cost. I run through the specifics of inducting him in my head and wince. “I can’t pay you yet, I’m-”

  “I’m a rich man. Induct me, and I’ll give you a cut of my work.”

  I shake my head. “I’m not taking your money.”

  Illi stretches his legs out in front of him and laces his fingers behind his head. The move makes him look even bigger and Harley watches him warily. Illi grins at him and then fucking blows him a kiss like an ass. Fucking hell.

  “I get it, you don’t want to take on an empire. But that’s why I’ll offer myself to you and no one else. You won’t use me. You won’t betray me. You won’t grow so fucking conceited that you turn into a cunt like Matteo did. You’ve protected Odie from the moment you met her. Offering myself to you and giving you a cut of my work is fucking nothing compared to what I owe you. Induct me. I will protect you and the boy, whatever the cost.”

  Resigned, I nod and exhale sharply. “It’s forever, Illi. Just remember that this is forever.”

  He smiles, and it doesn’t soften his fierce face at all. “So is Odie. I owe you a life-debt.”

  I take another deep breath. “One last thing. It’s not just Harley that I’m protecting. I’m protecting my family. My best friend and… the three guys I’m… seeing.”

  Illium blinks at me and then at Harley. Then he fucking roars with laughter.

  “Good! Fuck yes! No more abiding by Matteo’s shitty fucking agendas. Done, little Wolf. Send me their details and I’ll stay in touch. We’ll get you the fuck away from Matteo.”

  Chapter Three

  The Vulture’s death means the Twelve go on lockdown.

  The Tiger refuses to meet at the party, texting instead to request a daytime meeting at a deli on the Main Street the following afternoon. Lots of witnesses and places to take cover. The news of Illi and Odie’s inductions travels fast and I think having the Butcher answer to me makes the Tiger extra fucking twitchy.

  I slip out of bed without waking Harley and leave him a note. We’d argued after Illi had left and I’d stomped off to bed to video call Avery, seething and ignoring the texts and calls from the other two. Harley had abandoned the beer he’d been drinking before Illi’s surprise visit, and found my emergency bottle of whiskey. He didn’t stumble to bed until he’d finished the damn thing, and I’d spent half the night positive he was going to die of liver poisoning. I should’ve known he’d be fine, he drinks like a freaking fish, but I’d barely managed to get any sleep.

  The drop-off runs smoothly. The Tiger doesn’t question me about Illi, although his usual crass jokes are absent and he keeps looking over my shoulder. There are only two members of the Twelve without inductees left and, as one of them, I’m sure that the Tiger never feels more alone than when there is a murder amongst our ranks.

  It’s not until I go to leave that he says quietly, “Protecting a killer isn’t a smart move, Wolf.”

  I raise an eyebrow at him, forcing bravado I do not feel. “The Vulture sold skin. It’s not the type of business that cultivates admiration and respect. There are thousands of people who wanted him dead. I hope you’re not making assumptions, Tiger?”

  He eyes me carefully before giving me a respectful nod and leaving.

  I stop at a liquor store that’s protected and used by the Bear to launder his dirty cash. The guy behind the counter takes one look at me and waves me on, refusing to take my money. I grab more beer and two new emergency bottles of whiskey.

  I groan to myself when I think of the hungover mess in my bed. How the actual fuck do I make him understand this? Ugh.

  My phone pings and I cringe as I juggle the bottles to check it.

  I’m in the Bay. Can you send through your address?

  I stare down at Blaise’s text. I’m excited to see him, thrilled actually, but he’s supposed to be in New York with his parents. His texts had been coming less frequently and sounding a lot less like him as the break goes on. I chew my lip as I send him the address and then pause for a second before texting him again.

  I’ve just finished a job. Can you pick me up before you head there?

  I find a bench to sit on and send him the details of where I am. He must have been only a block over because two minutes later he pulls up.

  The Maserati draws eyes. Too many eyes and I know this will get back to the Jackal.

  I scramble over to the car and load the bottles into the back seat before climbing in. Once I get my seatbelt on I turn to greet Blaise and the words dry up in my throat. It’s hard, but I do my best not to gape at him. He’s got his nose piercing back in, now we’re out of Hannaford, and his hair is freshly cut. He smells amazing, like he got straight into the car after his shower to come see me. The only thing wrong is the expression on his face.

  He’s a void.

  There’s no sign of my cheeky, vicious, passionate, dark rockstar. Just a blank, empty vessel, even as he pulls the car back onto the road and drives us back to the townhouse. What the ever-loving fuck has happened? I wait him out, but he says nothing.

  “How can I fix this?” I say when I can’t stand the silence any longer.

  He glances over at me and his eyes are dull. “You can’t. No one can.”

  I nod and hesitate before resting my hand on his thigh, too low to be overtly sexual, but high enough that it’s more than a friendly gesture.

  When we arrive at the gates I pass him the spare sensor to open them. He doesn’t move to roll down his window, just stares down at the little plastic sphere like it’s the answer to all of his problems. I stay quiet. Sometimes you just have to be patient and wait these things out.

  “My mom’s pregnant.”

  Huh.

  Not what I expected.

  “My father told me they’ve given up on me ever growing up. He said that they’d thought my shitty grades were a rebellion or a sign I was too spoilt and lazy to have drive, but now they know I’m just retarded. His exact words, not mine. They even went to a fertility specialist to make sure they would have another boy to replace me. The second he’s born my father is writing me out of his estate.”

  The monotone sound of his voice and the complete lack of cussing has me worried. Also, I can’t fix this at all. How fucked is it that we’ve all managed to have shitty families? Where are the decent people of the world?

  “I don’t even care about the money. I’m fine, I have enough of my own and I never wanted to run the business. But they’re alread
y talking about keeping my bad influence away from the baby. I’m going to have a brother that I’m not allowed to know because I’m too fucking stupid to be who my father wants me to be.”

  Yeah, I can’t listen to this.

  Not at all. Not from the guy who gave up parties and fun so he could study three nights a week to get his grades up for his miserable excuse of a father. The guy stands with his friends even if it risks his reputation and his career. The guy who goes toe to toe with Joey when he threatens someone he loves. Not the guy who charmed me, apologized to me, with playlists, poems, sketches, and sweet words. Not the guy who saved my life with his songs years before we even met.

  I grab his hand until our fingers are curled together around the sensor. “Listen to me, there is plenty we can do to fix this. Not your parents or their shitty fucking attitudes, but we can make it impossible for them to keep you away from your brother. Don’t even think about it anymore, I will fix it. You’re not stupid. I’m the best person to judge that, I’ve spent hours doing assignments with you. You’re not what he wants but that doesn’t make you less than him. I’ve met a lot of shitty people, Blaise, I’ve had to deal with a fuck-tonne of stupid, cruel, self-absorbed people and you’re worth so much more than what he wants from you. You don’t owe them anything.”

  His hand shakes a little in mine and then he gives me the tiniest of nods.

  “No spending blood diamonds on me, Mounty. I’m not worth it.”

  I swallow past the lump lodged in my throat. “You’re worth more than my diamonds. I’m planning on spending every single one of them on us. On our family, the one that actually counts. Even if… even if this is all a temporary thing for you guys, it’s still worth it for me.”

  His head snaps over to me so quickly I would have startled if I weren’t firmly wearing the skin of the Wolf. His eyes are wild and fierce. “This is not fucking temporary. Not for me, not for Ash or Harley, and not for you. I know we have a hell of a lot to make up for, but I’m going to do whatever it takes to do that. Don’t ever say that shit again.”

  How the fuck am I supposed to walk straight after that?!