Play the Game: Hannaford Prep Year Three

by J Bree

  I keep the phone to my ear and climb over Ash, who’s the deepest sleeper out of all of us and barely mumbles as my weight hits his chest. I grab his phone and then use his finger to unlock it, like some creepy stalker girlfriend but fuck it, this feels like an emergency.

  I fucking hope it’s not an emergency.

  I dial Illi’s number with my heart in my throat.

  “What’s happened?” He answers, an echo of my own worry.

  “Do you still have eyes on Arbour? Something is wrong.”

  Illi grunts and starts to move. The swishing noise in the other phone stops, and I heard a door open and shut.

  He swears low and colorful under his breath. “He’s just taken a girl into his room, kid. Fuck. He’s clearly fucking wasted, she’s practically holding him up, but cheating’s fucking cheating. I didn’t fucking see him doing this, he’s so fucking taken with you. Fuck. You need me to kill him? I can do it with a bullet, nice and quick if you feel squeamish about it.” Illi says, gentle in a way I didn’t know he had in him.

  But fuck that.

  I know Harley and I fucking trust him.

  “No killing, no matter what. Go and get a look at what the fuck is happening in that room.”

  Ash grunts and his eyes open, an arm winding around my waist before his eyes even open. He blinks up at me and frowns when he sees his phone at my ear. I cut him a look and, thankfully, he keeps his mouth shut.

  “Right. I’m outside the room and - FUCK!”

  The booming sound of a door being kicked in startles Ash and he sits up, his arm keeping me stable on top of him.

  “What the fuck?” He mouths at me and I swallow roughly.

  “Harley.” I croak, my eyes welling up, and Ash can’t contain the vicious curses that spill out of his mouth.

  He sets me down on the bed and starts pulling his clothes on, yelling for Blaise and Avery. I can’t move. I can’t do anything until I know Harley is alive and safe. Whatever the fuck has happened I’m frozen until I know he’s okay.

  But the second I know he is, someone is going to fucking bleed tonight.

  Through Harley’s phone, I can hear screaming and sobbing. I recognize it immediately and look up to find the others, dressed and ready, waiting for me to tell them what the fuck is going on.

  “Annabelle fucking Summers. I don’t know what’s happened but Illi’s there and she’s sobbing.” I croak and Avery collapses on the bed next to me. Her eyes are wide and when she tucks her arm into mine I can feel the tremble running through her.

  “Call 911, you dumb fucking slut!” Illi roars, and Harley’s phone makes a scratching noise before the line goes dead.

  Holy fucking shit.

  Avery’s shoulders shake and Ash yanks her up off the bed as Blaise pulls me to stand. I protest, I don’t want to hang up, but he maneuvers me into a pair of yoga pants. Then he hoists me into his arms and carries me like I weigh nothing.

  “We’re going to him. Tell me once you know where the ambulance is taking him.”

  I nod and he sets me back onto my feet in the elevator. Avery is taking deep, shuddering breaths, and Ash is scowling, his hands clenching.

  It takes us over an hour to get to the hospital, even though Blaise drives like a fucking maniac the entire way. I can’t think, or breathe, or function. My mind just keeps playing Illi’s voice over and over again, the urgency when he screamed for Annabelle to call 911. The dread in my gut has grown, spread down through my limb until I walk into the hospital lobby on numb legs. Only Blaise’s strong arm banded around my waist keeps me upright.

  Avery snarls at the reception staff until they tell us Harley is in surgery. My brain sort of shut off after that, like a rage blackout except I can see Avery nodding and taking in all the information for me while I freak the fuck out. Then we’re directed to the waiting room.

  Illi is already there, vomit and blood covering his clothes.

  I could fucking pass out.

  He looks at me with such fucking sorrow for a second I want to punch him. He nods at me. “This way kid. I’ve got what you need in here.”

  I stupidly think he’s taking me to see Harley but no. He directs me over to a supply cupboard and jiggles the door until the lock pops. Inside, Annabelle goddamn Summer’s is hogtied. All trussed up like a turkey at Thanksgiving, and what good luck because I’m going to fucking carve her up.

  Illi motions me in and then I block everything out, every sound, sight, and smell while I stare down the pathetic whore who’s tried to take Harley from me. If he dies… no. I can’t even think about it. He’s going to live. He has to.

  I step forward and yank the gag out of her mouth, watching with grim satisfaction as she tries to swallow and winces.

  “What the fuck did you do to him?” There’s nothing human left in my voice.

  She whimpers pathetically.

  “Tell me.” I say, and she sneers at me, all the fake simpering vanishing like the manipulative skank she is.

  Eclipse Starbright Anderson ceases to exist. I don’t know who takes her place because the Wolf has nothing on the deadly rage that takes over me. I stay completely aware as I pin Annabelle to the wall by her throat. I watch with a detached sort of fascination when her eyes light up with terror and, as my hands tighten around her neck, her face darkens until she looks almost purple.

  I only squeeze harder.

  I don’t notice the argument happening behind me until I large, colorful hand wraps around my wrist and a broken voice croons softly in my ear, “Let go, Star.”

  I shake my head. I’ll never fucking let her go again.

  She dies today.

  “She can’t speak if she’s dead.” He says calmly, and my grip loosens a fraction. I must have spoken that thought out loud.

  Her eyes are still bulging as she sucks in air, and she fixes her gaze over my shoulder like she always fucking does. No one else matters to this fucking despicable, money-hungry whore but the guys she’s fixated on. My fucking guys.

  “Blaise, please -” She gurgles and he cuts her off.

  “Just get the facts out of her so we can get back to Arbour. That’s where we need to be, babe.”

  Babe. Only Harley ever calls me that. My lip threatens to wobble but it’s like my emotions are just out of reach. Annabelle’s eyes stay glued to Blaise like I’m not even there, pinning her to the wall by her throat. I can’t get what I need like this. She won’t look at me with Blaise in the room.

  “I’ll get the truth. You should go.”

  Blaise moves his hand from my wrist to my hip, covering my body with his own until I’m surrounded by him. “I’m not leaving you with this cunt. I don’t care what you do to her; I’m with you.”

  Annabelle starts fucking crying and I can’t contain my snarl at her. “She won’t focus with you in the room. She’ll just spout her usual fucking lies.”

  Blaise grunts and shifts on his feet like he’s going to put up a fight. Illi speaks up from the doorway. “Go on, kid. I’ll watch your girl and you can go help the other one watch over the Crow’s little ice queen. Nothing will touch her with me around, I’ll see to it.”

  When the door clicks shut Illi speaks, “The doctors said he was dosed with ketamine. A dirty batch.”

  This fucking cunt.

  I stare her down but there’s no remorse in her. “So you were going to rape him?”

  She scoffs at me. “Girls can’t rape guys! I just needed him to forget about you and your fucking magical slum pussy for an hour and then we could be together again. Everything was finally working out; he has his money and we could be together without the other two. How the fuck was I supposed to know the pills would do this?”

  She’s dead.

  The second I have the story out of her, I’m gutting her. Nice and slow. Clean up will be a bitch but, fuck it, I’ll call in a favor and the Bear can pin it on some underling of his. While I’m plotting her disembowelment she continues on her little rant until something she says pi
ngs in my memory.

  “What dealer?”

  She sputters to a stop. “What? Some guy. What does it matter? He was from the slums like you and gave me the pill in a little bag.”

  Slums.

  The Bay.

  My voice shakes. “Show me.”

  “What?”

  “Show me the fucking bag.” I hiss at her.

  She fumbles around in her pocket before dropping the little clear bag on my palm. I know it’s the Jackal’s before I turn it over and see his insignia. Even with Illi taking out the stream of underlings the Jackal hired he’s still found a crack in our defense.

  I stare at her, long enough that it finally dawns on her that she’s utterly defenseless, hogtied in a closet with a murderous girl and her thug-looking mountain of a friend.

  She’s fucked.

  “Look, I didn’t fucking know it would do this to him! I just wanted him back!” She sobs, and I feel fucking nothing but icy bloodlust pumping through my veins. I drop my hands away from her and start to look for my knife. Blaise had grabbed it and stashed it in his pocket for me while I’d been frozen in fear, waiting with my phone pressed against my ear. Illi steps up and takes my arm, pulling me out of the room and into the hallway, pushing me until I find myself wrapped in Blaise’s arms.

  “I’ll sort this for you, kid. It’s my job and my fucking pleasure to take care of this for you.”

  I stare at him, cold and detached. He nods at me like he knows how blank I am inside.

  “She fucked with the wrong family. I’ll treat her with the same patience and understanding as you did with the guy who bid on Odie. Stay with your mobster kid. I’ll check on you guys when it’s done.”

  He ushers us back out to the waiting room and at the last moment, he grabs Ash’s arm. Ash stares at him with the rage that’s feeling every fiber of his being. If anyone else did that Illi would thumb their eyes out, but he just nods at him with respect. “Welcome to the family. We’re going to burn this place to the fucking ground.”

  And then he leaves with a deftness no man his size should have.

  Ten minutes later, we’re all still sitting in the waiting room when Diarmuid shows up. He takes one look at me and collapses on a chair across from us.

  “Liam?” He snarls.

  I shake my head. “Matteo.”

  He nods and unsheathes his favorite knife. Blaise tenses for a second but the Irish bastard pulls out a whetstone and begins to sharpen the blade. It’s an old habit, something he does when he’s plotting. I don’t know how we’re going to do it, but the Jackal just signed his own death warrant.

  Five hours later they finally let us in to see him.

  The overpowering smell of the disinfectant burns my nostrils and my chest tightens instantly. The beeping of the machines monitoring him just makes me want to scream and fucking chase Annabelle down, slamming a knife through her gut before Illi gets the chance. He would have already taken care of it but fuck, I wish I would have fought a little harder to make the kill myself.

  Blaise helps me climb onto the bed next to Harley as Ash lifts wires and tubes out of my way without unplugging anything. It’s a tight fit with how big he is but I make it work. Avery sits in the chair by the window and watches me with vacant eyes.

  It’s not until I cry that her soul seems to come back to her body. The tears start as silent streams of salty liquid, leaving tracks down my face. Then comes the sniffling until finally, my whole body is trembling at the force of the sobs I’m desperately keeping in.

  I’m taking today.

  I’m giving myself today to lay here with him and touch him and know that he’s alive. Tomorrow I’m going to start a war, I’ll call in every last favor until the blood pours like fucking rivers through the streets of Mounts Bay and every damn man, woman, and child knows to stay the fuck away from my family. But today is for Harley.

  Hours pass like that, me crying into his chest, while the others all try to find some comfort on the cheap, spindly plastic chairs. Blaise eventually passes out on the floor, his jacket balled up under his head, and Ash sprawls out over four chairs with his head in Avery’s lap.

  I am nothing but blind rage and gut-wrenching fear.

  “I’ve never seen you cry before.” Avery looks absently out the window and strokes at Ash’s hair. I don’t speak, I can’t open my mouth without the sobs coming out messily, so she continues. “I’ve always known you liked them. I mean, you protect them all so fucking fiercely, it’s obvious it’s not just for my sake. I just… I didn’t realize you loved him like this.”

  I take a minute to wipe my eyes and collect myself. It takes every last ounce of my strength I have left.

  “I’ve never given anyone the power to break me. Harley is… on paper, he’s the worst choice for me. He’s a mobster’s son. He’s from the Bay. He’s lived in the world that has tried to kill me every fucking day of my life. He’s a killer, he has that darkness in him that every single man in my life so far has used to hurt me. Trying to get away from that life means he’s the worst option. But he’s… a part of me. It goes so far beyond having my heart. Hearts can be broken, torn out, fucking burned. Harley owns a part of my soul and, if he wanted to, he could destroy me in ways Matteo never fucking could. They all do, Aves. It’s why I couldn’t fucking choose in that bathroom back when you asked me because how do I choose between the parts of my soul?”

  I lift my eyes to her and I feel the calm settle back over me. “Avery, I’m not going to take careful steps anymore. I’m going to wipe the fucking board clean until there isn’t a threat left. I’m going to take out the Jackal, the O’Cronin’s, Senior, fucking Morningstar himself if I have to. Every single one of them will die before I let this happen again.”

  Avery’s eyes stay fixed on mine, unblinking and unflinching in her resolve. “I would watch the whole world burn to keep our family safe, Lips. I’m calling Atticus. I don’t forgive him and I don’t want him anymore, but I’ll use him until every last threat is gone. We’re done playing it safe and keeping the body count low. Whatever it takes, to the end.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Harley doesn’t wake up for two awful, gut-wrenching, devastating days.

  I don’t leave his side, only getting out of the bed when the nurses need me to, and Avery works her magic to have supplies brought to us.

  Ash takes up watch by the door like he thinks the Jackal is going to come down here personally to finish Harley off. I think he’s actually hoping the fucking sociopath will. We all want him dead in the worst way for this.

  Blaise only lasts a few hours before he rigs up a stereo and starts singing the most ridiculous songs. When Avery snaps at him he shrugs and says, “Quickest way to wake him up is to piss him off, and nothing pisses him off like my taste in music.”

  I could cry all over again but my tears have all dried up.

  Now there’s nothing but rage left in me. Rage at the Jackal, rage at Annabelle, rage I didn’t kill her myself. Rage that he won’t wake up. I need him, dammit. I fucking need him.

  When he finally opens his eyes Avery is busy fussing with his blankets while I’m cuddled up on his chest, making sure his damn heart is still beating.

  “Fuck, Harley! Lips, he’s awake!” Avery shrieks, and my neck damn near breaks as I snap upright to get a look at his bleary eyes, doped up and fussy.

  He’s never looked fucking better in his whole life.

  Avery jabs at the call button for the nurse as I lay there just staring at him like an idiot because I can’t fucking move or think now he’s awake.

  “What’s wrong, babe?” He mumbles, slurring a little, and I kiss him gently.

  “Nothing. Everything is going to be fine. Just rest.” I mumble against his cheek, and he nods.

  The nurse bustles in and Avery starts to snap out orders at her, ever the dictator. The nurses all tiptoe around her, having learned on day one of our stay not to piss her off. Ash helps me off of the bed so the nurse can check
Harley’s vital signs and reflexes now he’s awake.

  I stand by the bed, ready to stab the bitch if she so much as flinches in his direction because now I’m convinced everyone is a fucking Jackal spy. Avery does the same, even though she leased with Atticus to have the hospital swept clean before the surgery was even over.

  When the nurse mumbles she’s happy with his reactions, she starts to mess around with his IVs and Diarmuid walks in, Illi on his heels looking pissed the fuck off.

  Diarmuid gives a wry smile when he sees Harley’s eyes open and reaches out to sling an arm around me. I flinch away from him, I don’t want to be touched by anyone but my family and I don’t trust this asshole. Not one bit.

  “Don’t fucking touch her.” Ash hisses and Diarmuid snaps away from me.

  “Right. I’m just here to check if my nephew is okay. Now I can see he’s awake I’ll leave you all to it. Call me if you need help making this right, Wolfie.”

  I shake my head at him and he leaves, Illi glaring at his retreating back. Once he’s out of sight I share a look with Illi. He doesn’t trust him either.

  “How your boy, kid?” He murmurs, and I nod.

  “He’s awake and he’s going to be fine. I need you to clear your calendar for the summer. We’re going hunting.”

  A week later, we travel back to Hannaford in the Maserati and I clutch Harley’s hand in my own like he’ll somehow slip away without my touch. Ash notices my anxiety and slips his hand around my thigh, what little weigh I was managing to keep now gone so there’s not much for him to get a hold of.

  Blaise drives much steadier and slower than normal, and Avery stays glued to her phone the entire time. When I’d told Harley the truth of who the Crow really is he’d snarled at Avery to ditch him. It’s a testament to how worried we’ve all been about him that she let him go with nothing but a kiss on the cheek for his troubles.

  It’s mid-afternoon on a Tuesday, so when we pull up there isn’t a person in sight.

  Harley is grouchy as fuck, irritated to be fussed over and when Blaise offers to carry him back up to our rooms he snarls and takes a swing at him.