Page 549 of The Bonding Games: Part 1

Both men are on the floor so fast I can’t even piece together what happened, pained grunts shoved from them. Then our Bonded storms away and out of the Training Centre.

Leaving our Bonded group incomplete again.

***

“She always just vanishes! She never talks to us unless it’s to boss us about or critique us! She never stays around, she’s always off doing whatever the fuck she wants!”

I flinch at Cooper’s harsh words, and Tiger wraps his arm tighter around my shoulders in silent support as we sit in our living room together on one of the black leather couches, listening to the argument that’s predominantly between Tate and Cooper which broke out the moment we entered our Bonded chambers. Scotty stands nearby with a tight expression, arms crossed over his chest as he monitors the two carefully, ready to intervene if necessary.

The glow of a red Avri strip from one of the many in the room glints off of Tate’s eyebrow piercings and eyes in a physical representation of his anger as he takes a threatening step closer to Cooper. “You don’t get it! She could’ve killed us the day we bonded her! She isn’t merciful! That means something!”

“It doesn’t mean anything!” Cooper roars back, throwing his arms out either side of him to encompass the chambers as he continues relentlessly, “She’s not here, is she?! If she really wanted to be here, she would! She doesn’t want us! The only reason we’re not dead is because it’s forbidden to kill your Bonded! And, oh! Maybe because there was something fucking wrong with her that day, and she wasn’t thinking clearly as well as hardly being able to stand without wobbling! Another thing no one ever mentions and she certainly hasn’t bothered to explain! That’s it!”

“No it’s not! She wants me! She wants us!”

“NO SHE DOESN’T! SHE DOESN’T AND SHE NEVER WILL! SHE WILL NEVER FUCKING LOVE YOU!”

With an anguished bellow of cataclysmic rage, Tate throws his full body weight at him, and they crash to the ground, rolling around furiously in a tornado of pain and anger and punches and kicks.

My shoulders draw up to my ears, and my vision grows spotty with a horrid suddenness as my breath escapes me and refuses to return. My head becomes fuzzy, and everything is dunked in viscous liquid so that every sound is muffled and disjointed.

CRASH!

“. . . IT BACK! TAKE IT BACK! . . .”

“. . . op! Knock it o . . . I said sto . . .”

Thump-thump, thump-thump.

“Scotty, he’s . . . No! Help hi . . .”

Hands on my face, shaking me.

“. . . not . . . working!”

Oblivion clutches me in its inky depths.

33

COOPER

“Fight me.”

I blanch. “What?”

“Do not waste my time, Player 17. I asked you to fight me. All of you. One by one. You will try to beat me, and we will continue until you can. This will not be like our regular sparring; you will attempt to pin me. You must try to hurt me. This will become a regular part of our training.”

“Vengeance . . .” I swallow but don’t suck the word back in. It’s slipped out enough times by now that no one bats an eye. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I am Ezla Zefron; no one can hurt me.”

I would have believed that before I met her.

“And you fight me all the time.”

“Not really, Ezzy,” Tiger pipes up with a rare nervous expression, sticking close to Alby even though he passed out days ago now, so is completely fine. “Not like that . . .”

I still feel like absolute crap for that; I know it was mine and Tate’s fault. But once again, I’d been controlled by my anger, and while I might not like violence, I know my words can be disgustingly cruel, like a defence mechanism. I know that was the reason everything got so physical—because I couldn’t control my own pain and stress and anger, and instead I threw it at everyone else, especially Tate. I think it’s because of the way he’s so sure Ezla will love him, and here I am, an undeniable pessimist, unable to believe she’ll ever even want any of us. I envy him for it.