The Game Series (15 page)

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Authors: Emma Hart

BOOK: The Game Series
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“Fuck, that's enough!” Braden yells.

“Get the fuck out of here before I put you out of here,” Ryan threatens, holding Lila behind him and stepping up next to Braden. “I mean it.  No one talks to one of our girls that way. You have thirty seconds to get out of my fuckin' sight.”

“I'm goin',” Pearce says, throwing me one last look before he turns and walks down the
sidewalk.

Whispers start up around us. I can imagine it. Good little Maddie – that's her brother? Bullshit. It's all bullshit.

“Inside,” Braden says softly to me, leading me towards the house. “And you all can fuck off.”

He pulls me through the door and up the stairs to his room. He shuts the door, and my legs buckle. I barely grab his desk before he snatches me back into his chest. I can't breathe. My heart is pounding, my chest is tight, and I'm shaking more than I knew possible.

I just stood up to my brother.

“Sssh,” Braden soothes. “He can't get near you anymore, Angel. I promise you. I won't let him.”

Tears sting my eyes, and I let them roll out, trickling down my cheeks. I fist his shirt in my hands and hold on tightly, the fear leaving me slowly.

“Come here.” He lifts me and carries me across the room, lying me down on the bed. He lies next to me, pulling my sobbing body into him. He tucks my face into his neck and holds me as close to him as I can get, so close we're practically one person. The covers go over me, and he tucks them under my chin.

Braden rocks us slightly, and I slowly begin to calm. In here, in this room, I'm safe.

With Braden, I am safe.

I don't know how long we lie here in silence, with him just holding me as if he's never going to let go. I don't think I want him to let go. I think I want him to keep holding me, to keep on keeping me safe.

I take a deep breath, and he kisses my forehe
ad. I open my mouth to speak – to explain I guess – but he interrupts me.

“No, Maddie. Don't worry. It's getting late, you get some sleep.”

We must have been lying here for a long time.

“I can't sleep in my jeans,” I mumble in a thick voice.

“Shit,” he mutters, kissing my forehead again and getting up. He goes to his dresser and passes me a shirt. “Here, wear this.”

I smile gratefully at him and quickly change, aware of his hot eyes on me. When I'm done, he strips to his boxers and climbs back into his bed. He puts his arm out.

“Come here.”

I move over and curl into him, resting my head on his shoulder. My leg hooks over his, and my arm rests over his waist. His arm holds me to him while the other strokes my hair in a rhythmic beat.

I relax, and it doesn't take long for my thoughts to take over in my vulnerable state.

All the fighting I've done for the last two odd weeks has been futile. It's been a defense mechanism to protect myself, keep me safe so I didn't get hurt while I played the game.

But that's the problem. I've been so busy playing the game, I didn't notice when the game played me.

Somehow, the rules of the game have changed somewhere along the way without my knowledge.

Because I'm falling in love with Braden Carter.

 

Chapter Thirty – Braden

 

When she's lying in my arms, like she is now, she's vulnerable.

Only, I didn't realize just how vulnerable she was until last night. I also didn't realize how strong she was, how much fire is in her.

I look down at her. Her hair is fanned across my pillow, and her lips are parted slightly, her breath crawling over my bare chest. She looks peaceful when she's sleeping, like there aren't a thousand demons running around in her head and her heart. Like she isn't protecting herself from anything and everything.

My hand moves from its resting place on my stomach, and I smooth hair away from her face. She sniffs and moves closer to me, causing me to pull her even closer. My lips press against her forehead, and she slides an arm across my stomach, her fingers brushing the bare skin above the covers.

I'm not sure when I started to care for her so much. It could have been the day at the beach when she told me about her Mom, or it could have been when she went crazy at that girl in the cafeteria – when she went badass. It could have happened during one of our crazy make out sessions, or maybe it was while I was pretending to focus in English while I played with her hair.

Or maybe it was there all along.

Maybe I always cared about her, and I just buried it under sex.

I don't know. All I know is, now, I do care, and the game is becoming something more. It's becoming more real than anything I've ever known. It's becoming something I can hold on to. Something Maddie can hold on to.

I'm
something she can hold on to.

“Good morning,” she says in a sleepy voice, yawning and rubbing at her eyes.

“Good morning, Angel,” I whisper softly. “How are you?”

She pauses for a second, her green eyes clouding over. “I'm not sure. I feel good, but I feel bad too.”

I kiss her forehead again, smoothing out her furrowed brow.

“I did the right thing yesterday, didn't I?” Her voice is full of doubt as her eyes travel up to mine. “Telling him no? Not helping him.”

“I think so,” I answer honestly.

“He is my brother, though.”

“Hey.” I tilt her face up. “You had a reason for saying no. He's obviously put you through something so bad that you don't feel like you can help him anymore. That's okay, Mads. He can't keep taking without giving you something back.”

She nods. “You're right. Everything he's put me through
....” She closes her eyes and shakes her head. “I won't do it anymore. I won't be a doormat.”

I stroke her hair because I don't know what to say.

“I was five when I met Abbi. She was my first friend in kindergarten. We went through school together, right up until high school,” she says suddenly, breaking the silence between us.

“You don't have to-”

“No, no, I do.”

“Okay, Angel.”

Her eyes glaze over, and a small smile plays on her lips. “We did everything together. We were literally attached at the hip. If Abbi started a ballet class, I did too. If I quit and tried gymnastics, Abbi did too. That's how it was. Everyone said we must have been separated at birth because we were so alike, so attached to each other. I thought we always would be.

“When Mom died three years ago, Abbi was my rock. As my world fell apart and Dad got depressed, she was there to help me cope. She'd be there after school every day, cleaning and helping me cook. After Mom, I was the only one that could cook a decent meal – and since Mom had taught us both to cook, it made sense that she would help.

“But it changed when we started senior year. I knew that one day it would change. Maybe we wouldn't go to the same college or one of us would get a serious boyfriend. Well, one of us got a boyfriend. It wasn't me, and I didn't expect Abbi's boyfriend to be my brother.

“Pearce lost it when Mom died. He'd already been at high school for a few years when she was killed, so he'd been going to parties and stuff. He'd been trying out drugs, playing here and there, since he was about fifteen or sixteen, probably, so it was an eas
y vice for him to turn to. He sank deeper and deeper, going more and more into the habit, trying stronger and stronger drugs. Dad was too broken himself to stop him, and Pearce ate up his college fund from Mom doing drugs.

“So, yeah, I was surprised when Abbi and Pearce started dating. I mean, we were both honor roll students, so it was an absolutely
cliché good-girl-falls-for-bad-boy scenario.” Maddie pauses, collecting her thoughts, and I carry on tracing my finger along her arm. “He seemed to treat her kind of well at first, I suppose. He'd be a jerk when he needed a fix, but he'd buy her flowers and stuff to apologize after. I tried warning her off, after all, I'd seen him spiral downwards, but she was determined she could save him.” She rolls her eyes. “Save him. It was the stupidest thing I'd ever heard. In my mind, the only person that could save Pearce was Pearce. I'd tried talking to him after Mom died to no avail. I tried over and over until I couldn't do it anymore. Mom always said you couldn't help someone unless they wanted helping. That was her mantra since she worked with addicts.

“But Abbi wouldn't listen. At all. So, I went with her to his parties. She'd never admit it, but she was grateful. She wasn't a fan of his friends – neither was I, mind you, but I'd never let her go into that by herself. I'd been going to them for about two months, somehow keeping up honor roll while Abbi dropped it, when it all kicked off one night.

“Pearce didn't have enough cash on him to pay for his fix. The prices had gone up because his dealer's supply was getting low, and he didn't know. Pearce was at the stage where he needed a fix, badly, and when it all got crazy, Abbi tried to calm him down. He swung and caught her in the face. She went flying across the room. Her nose was gushing blood, and I ran straight to her side. Pearce didn't care. He just wanted his next fix. That was all that mattered to him.

“I ended up coughing up the extra cash, and it was the worst thing I ever did. He took it that since I helped him once, I'd do it again. He didn't seem concerned he'd hit Abbi – I still don't know if it was deliberate or accidental, but I do know it wasn't the last time.”

“Did you stop going to the parties?” My muscles are taut at the thought of her being in a place like that.

She nods. “I went to see Abbi the next day and told her I wouldn't go anymore and that she should break it off with Pearce. She refused. She told her parents she'd slipped on some ice and hit the pavement and that's why her nose was bleeding. It was November, so No one batted an eyelash at it. I felt terrible. I was letting her go to those parties by herself. It wasn't long before she was there as much as Pearce, although she never actually touched the drugs. She'd just have a few drinks.

“Over the next six months, she seemed to have an extra bruise every time I saw her. Whenever I asked her, she'd say she fell down the stairs, got pushed into a wall, or slipped in gym. Pearce pleaded innocence when I confronted him. He said he didn't know what she did when he was getting his fix. Slowly Abbi became someone I didn't know. Where she was once outgoing, carefree, and extroverted, she folded into herself. She became weak and dependent on my brother. And frightened. She was so scared of him. I would hear them arguing all the time, but I reminded myself she chose that. She chose to be with Pearce.

“I tried talking to her one last time, a last-ditch attempt to bring her back, but she wouldn't have it. Whatever it was Pearce had done to her, he'd broken my best friend.”

I hold her tighter to me when I feel her start to shake, and I know what she has to say next won't be good.

 

Chapter Thirty-One – Maddie

 

“I remember finding her. Her parents were out of town on business, and her Mom hadn't heard from her so she asked me to check on her. I went.” My hands shake, and my voice is flat, my body numb to the emotions as the night I discovered her plays in my mind.

 

“Abbi? Abbi, are you in there?” I had knocked on the door frantically. “I'll break in if I have to! C'mon, Abs, your mom is worried about you.”

Nothing. She didn't reply. I banged harder. “You have five seconds to reply or I'm coming in!”

I counted in my head using the Mississippi numbers. One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi... We might not have talked in a month, but she was still my best friend.

“Okay, I'm coming in!” I warned one last time and stepped back, kicking the lock on the door a few times. The wood splintered, and I held it open. I stopped dead at the sight before me.

Abbi was lying in the bath fully clothed, the tub half full with her arm hanging over the side. Blood dripped from numerous lines and scratches all up her arm, and a small brown bottle caught my eye. My shaky hand reached out to grab the bottle. Paracetamol. The easiest way. Mom had taught us that – sixteen tablets would be enough if you went long enough without being discovered. Who knows how long Abbi had been locked in her bathroom?

“Oh, Abbi,” I sobbed out and dropped the bottle. It landed on the floor with a deafening clatter in the silence. I backed into the door frame, trying to stop my legs from buckling. I took my phone from my pocket, and my trembling thumb typed out nine one one.

Did she have a pulse? I didn't know. Was she breathing? I didn't know. I was scared to touch her. I was scared to move her.
Please don't be dead,
I thought.
Please don't die on me too.
First I'd lost Mom, I couldn't lose Abbi too. I couldn't lose both.
Pleasepleasepleasepleaseno.

I hung up after giving the information and stayed staring at her still body. Her chest rose slightly, and a sliver of relief ran through me. She was alive. Maybe.

But why? Why? Why would she do it?

 

“I knew why, of course,” I whisper. “Pearce had driven her to it. He'd broken her so much that every piece of her was shattered. He'd destroyed her. The only thing she had left to do was exist.”

“Oh, Angel.” Braden holds me tight.

“She's alive. She's in an 'institution' for mentally ill teens outside of Brooklyn. She's alive, but she's not really living. Sometimes I wonder if she'd be better off not here, then I feel terrible.” Tears are warm as they coast down my cheeks. “I still don't know everything Pearce did to her, and I'll never find out. I don't want to know. The idea of it scares me.”

“You feel guilty, don't you?”

“Yes. If I'd just stayed with her, maybe I could have protected her more. I don't know, Bray. Maybe if I'd stayed by her side and not let her be alone, she'd still be, well, normal, I guess.”

“It's not your fault. You didn't do it.”

“I know that. I do, but I hate that I had to find her. It's a good thing I did, though. The paramedics said if I'd left it another few hours before going round, she would have died. She'd taken that many tablets and cut herself all over. She didn't stop at her arms. Her thighs and stomach were covered beneath her clothes. She was wearing black so I didn't see them, but the water in the bath kept the cuts open. She knew exactly what she was doing. It wasn't a cry for attention, it was a real attempt.”

I swipe at my cheeks, and Braden kisses the corners of my eyes. “That's why you hate your brother?”

I nod. “Because he made me lose everything. I'd already lost Mom, and I lost Abbi. Maybe not in the same way, but she's still not the person I knew. She never will be again.”

“I'm so sorry you had to go through all that. I really am.” He kisses my forehead. “You know your brother will never come near you again, right? If he does, I'll kick his fuckin' ass, Maddie. I promise you that.”

I nod and press myself to him. “I know.”

“He won't hurt you anymore,” Braden whispers, his arms wrapping my body completely in a blanket of safety.

And I believe him.

 

~

 

“Let me in, you great big buffoon!” Lila shouts, hammering her fist against the door. “We have a road trip to start!”

“It's. Eight. A-fucking-m!” Kay snaps and pulls the door open. I sit up, rubbing my eyes.

“And it's going to take us eight hours to drive there, so get your lazy ass out of bed and finish packing!” Lila tugs her bag through the door followed by a grumpy Megan. Megan does not do early mornings.

She chucks a brown envelope at me. “Yours.”

“What is it?” I yawn and pick it up.

“Open it and find out.”

I rip it open and tip it upside down. A plastic cream-colored card falls out, and I stare at it. “Is that?”

“Fake ID?” Lila beams. “Yep.”

“And why do I have a fake ID?”

“Because we're going to Vegas,” Megan says dryly, raising an eyebrow. “And you can't go to Vegas and
not
have a fake ID.”

“Um, okay.” I shrug and put it on the nightstand, climbing out of bed.

Kay walks out of the bathroom, changed into her clothes for the day, and still grumbling about the “Fuckin' ungodly hour of the morning that should never be seen on a weekend.”

I laugh and pull my sweats from my drawer. Hey – it
is
eight a.m., and an eight-hour journey.

I head into the bathroom,
change, and apply a bit of make-up, and get back out again.

“Are you packed?” Lila asks, tapping away on her cell.

“No. I wasn't expecting to leave at fucking eight a.m.,” Kay replies.

“Oh, goodness.” Megan looks at her. “Someone's happy this morning. You're just a little ray of sunshine today, aren't you, Kay?”

“Please don't go there,” I beg as I put the last of my things into my mini suitcase. “Just, don't even go there. She'll have you going all day.”

“It's-”

“Eight a.m. Get. Over. It.” Megan throws my pillow at Kay's head and I shake my head.

“Okay, the guys are ready and driving over now,” Lila announces.

“Wait, who's going with who? Where are we even staying?” I grab my fake ID and slip it into my purse.

“Um.” She holds up a finger and taps some more on her cell. “Okay, Maddie travels with Braden, Megan and Kay with me and Ryan, and Aston with the rest of the guys. We're staying at Treasure Island, and Maddie and Braden are sharing, me and Ryan are, Megan and Kay and Aston with the guys.”

I look at Megan. “She has a schedule on her phone, doesn't she?”

She nods serenely. “It's been there for a week.”

“Fuck ya schedule, Lila,” Kay says, standing and hoisting her bag onto the bed. “I'm packed, you're packed, and we're all packed. Let's move.”

Lila glares at her, stands, and grabs her bag.
I sigh deeply, knowing this weekend is either going to be a great success or a great big flop.

Right now, I'm thinking flop.

I lock the dorm room door behind us and by the time we get to the bottom of the stairs, the guys are all parked up outside. Braden steps out from his Jetta and shoots a disarming smile my way. I smile back at him and let the main door shut behind me.

He walks towards me, taking the bag from me wordlessly and replacing it with his hand. He tugs me to the car and pops the trunk, putting my bag carefully next to his.

“Braden, you ready?” Aston leans out the window of his four-by-four.

Braden gives him a thumbs up. “You go on. We'll be right behind you.”

I wave at the girls and watch as the three other cars pull away from the dorm room and campus. Braden drops the lid of the trunk, and I look up at him.

“What was that for?”

He turns quickly, cupping my head, and his lips find mine. I tilt backwards, leaning against the car. His knee slips in between mine, and I grab his shirt when he unclasps our hands and puts his on my waist.

His lips are hot and sweet as they massage mine, and I taste chocolate chips and coffee. I nibble his bottom lip.

“Did you buy me coffee?” I murmur.

“It's in the car.” He pulls back, eyes twinkling.

“So, that's what that was all about.”

He rights me and drops another kiss onto my lips. “No. That was because I wanted to kiss you, because sitting next to you in a car for eight hours without kissing you is going to be a damn nightmare.”

“We can take a pit stop, you know. I want McDonalds for lunch.”

“Angel,” he says in a low voice. “These might be sweatpants, but they happen to fit you really well, especially around that ass.” He slides his hand down across my hip and cups my ass, his fingers flexing as he pulls my hips against his. “So if we stop, it won't be for fucking McDonalds.”

I swallow, my heart thudding in my chest. Apparently, with the realization I'm falling in love with him comes the realization that he can turn me to a puddle of red hot, bubbling, needy, desperately-wanting-him mush.

“Point taken,” I say in a somewhat strangled voice. “Let's go, before we never leave.”

“Don't tempt me,” he whispers and kisses the spot below my ear.

I slide from his grip and open my car door, getting inside. He wasn't lying – sitting in the cup holder is a coffee from Starbucks, and a muffin is sitting on the dashboard. He put that there before he got out. I smile and take it.

“Thank you,” I say as he starts the car up.

“Anytime.” He smiles over at me, and I smile shyly. I break a piece of the muffin off and lean over before he pulls away, putting it by his lips.

He opens his mouth, and I drop it between his lips. He closes his mouth, and as I pull my hand away, his lips brush the ends of my fingers. The simple contact sends a shiver through me, and I look down as if that'll hide my reaction. He coughs, clearing his throat and pulls away from the dorm block.

Good move.

 

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