Page 608 of The Bonding Games: Part 1

She stares.

Huffing at the lack of response, I take that as good as her assent and continue pulling the shorts down, then her underwear. Parting her thighs, my nostrils flare, untouched cock begging for some relief, desperate to sink into that tight little hole, but I ignore it as I bring the towel to her skin and carefully wipe up her release. Vengeance stares me down the entire time, her glare stabbing into the top of my head like she thinks I’m about to rip a bloody chunk of her flesh out, and I dutifully focus on the task at hand, giving her no reason to think I’d ever cause her harm.

“I know all your secrets.”

Eyes snapping up to her face, I freeze.

“But you made me say mine aloud when you had already figured them out. Share with the room, would you?”

My jaw clenches, but I can’t even be mad at her—she has every right to ask after the way I dragged her trauma from her kicking and screaming. And in all honesty, I’m not too bothered about going into detail with the other men in this room anymore. Things have shifted dramatically in the last few days, today especially, and I feel closer to each person in my Bonded group than I ever thought I could because of it.

More cautiously, I dab at HC’s swollen flesh, taking my time. My gaze is much more focused than it needs to be as I avoid looking at anyone. “There isn’t much to tell,” I begin honestly, voice low. “Me and my brother had never been close. He picked on me a lot during first school, but he was a couple years older than me, so I didn’t have to see him much anyway for the most part. And it was never an issue at that point, just your plain old asshole brother.” My forehead wrinkles. “That all changed in second school.” This feels kind of weird to talk about when my cock’s refusing to go down, but I can’t help it when my Bonded’s pussy is right in my face. “I guess it’s not surprising he took to the violence promoted like a duck to water. I’ve never understood how the fuck he was an Evot, though. I mean, he put up a good front, but I always thought it was obvious how vile he was beneath the masks.”

Realising how that sounded, I snap my chin up to look at Ezla. “Not that all Exots are vile. You’re far from it, Vengeance. You’re just . . .”

“Savage in the good way,” Tiger supplies.

“Yeah, that,” I mutter before getting back on track, eyes falling back between my Bonded’s legs even though I’ve already cleaned her up well. My hand keeps gently moving the damp towel back and forth, something about the motions soothing my mind and making it easier to tell my story. “So, anyway . . . there was no reason other than his sadistic tendencies for why he started beating me any chance he could at second school when I caught up a couple years after him. My parents have always been good people, and I know they would’ve stopped him had they noticed any aggressiveness towards me—but Danny was good at hiding it, even when they did suspect something was up with him. He knew that, too. And when we were both living at the same school, in the same damn room because the school board thought it would be nice for us brothers to be roomed together . . .” I glance at Tiger and Scotty. “I’m guessing you guys were roomed as well?” They both nod, blue eyes solemn with the heaviness of the topic, and I continue, “When he knew there was no one to stop him, that nobody would actually care what he did in a place solely focused on encouraging violence . . .” I shake my head. “He just let it all out. I’d had no training yet—wasn’t strong back then. Didn’t have any friends. Danny was popular, and I was this weak little guy living in his shadow.”

I shift my gaze to Alby for a moment, and he swallows.

There are similarities between our stories, I know, from all he’s told us about Troy and Aider over the weeks, and a look of understanding passes between us: his best friend and my brother, both hiding who they truly were from the world until they let it all out on us the moment we got to second school. And I don’t think Alby expected anything like this from me, not with the way I am today. But I hope this makes him feel less like an outcast, because I can see on his face sometimes that he still wonders if he fits in here.

Because when you’re treated like an anomaly for so long, you start to believe that’s exactly what you are. And that’s a hard thought process to collapse.

“As the years went by, I got stronger, of course.” I pause. “Danny’s beatings got worse. No one cared, and I know people knew.” I shrug, and although these are shitty memories that aren’t at all nice to think about, speaking them out loud is easier than I thought it would be. “Took a lot of Avritabs to be able to function. Was in the infirmary at least once a day.” Pressing a quick kiss to HC’s inner knee, my lips twitch up at the corners when a small jolt shifts her body and her nose scrunches adorably. With that picture now seared into my mind, I keep going even more effortlessly. “I was strong enough to fight back by this point, to send him there, too. But it only spurred him on, as if he got off on the challenge.” My own nose wrinkles in disgust.

“I got another break when he moved to third school, and that’s when my strength and skills really improved without me constantly needing patching up. However, when I got to EvTS 290, he’d gotten huge—had a lot of muscle on me and improved just as much as me. So, yet again, nothing changed. I’d always fight back, but I was also extremely fucking depressed, and I knew if he didn’t go too far and kill me, I would likely end it myself.”

Tiger sucks in a sharp breath, and Alby’s eyes are watery.

“Don’t feel sorry for me. I’m still an asshole, remember?” I smile tightly, but the words fall flat, and I sigh. “I fucked off to clubs every time I could, using all my credits to just mess around and drink shit away, you know?”

Ezla scowls, and a wave of unmistakable jealousy crashes into me. Before it’s abruptly cut off.

Multiple brows ping sky-high, five sets of eyes whipping her way.

“Stop staring at me,” she seethes, her own eyes promising a gruesome death as she stabs them into each of us. “Whatever you think you felt, you did not. Carry on before I hang you by your testicles, Cooper.”

Clamping down on my amusement and the satisfaction thrumming through me, I obey: “It was a dick thing to do when I had parents to visit. And even though I told them everything was fine over text, they knew it wasn’t. But they could never be sure exactly what was going on, and I wasn’t about to tell them. So I got by, day by day . . .” I flick my gaze back to Ezla. “Until you happened.”

Pausing again, I take in the woman who’s so bloody vicious, represents everything I thought I hated: the unnecessary violence, the thirst for it . . . And yet I never hated her, not even when I couldn’t stand her actions before my brother’s death, and certainly not now that I’ve met her, that I’m bonded to her. I’ve been drawn to her more and more with every new piece of information I’ve figured out about her. And I know I’ve fallen. Hard.

“My vengeance was wreaked on my brother, and I was fucking free,” I carry on. “It obviously left an effect on me—turned into a moody, angry motherfucker. Didn’t trust anyone. And I especially hated The Bonding Games . . . violence.” I scoff and shake my head once again. “I’d completely blamed TBG, and it really does corrupt people, bring out the worst in many of us—I know for a fact things wouldn’t have got half as bad without EvTS training. But I also know Danny was always a monster, that the abuse would’ve happened one way or another. So I’m not devastated about any chance of him loving me having been crushed, because I don’t think he was ever capable of it.”

I lick my dry lips. “So, anyway . . . two years ago, you . . . you saved me, Vengeance.”

She cants her head to the side. “I do not save people.”

“I’m not so sure about that—”

“And your parents?” Ezla prompts, cutting Tiger’s sly comment off.

I’m not sure if it’s because she hasn’t found this information in any passing thoughts I’ve had yet or because she wants me laid bare to the entire room like she was, but I indulge her either way. “I went to see them after that, to see how they were doing. They were . . . they were devastated. And when they asked me if I was doing okay, I just . . . lost it. Broke down and explained I was sorry for being happy, begged them to understand as I told them all that had happened over the years.” I clear the throat that feels a little clogged at the memory. “And they believed me. They didn’t shout at me for feeling the way I did, didn’t do anything but apologise themselves for not acting on their suspicions. But I was never angry with them—I kept the truth from them on purpose because I knew it would destroy them to know who their son really was. As I said, they’ve always been good parents, great even.”

I absentmindedly swipe the towel in my hand over Ezla’s centre again. “After that, I started using my credits to see them instead of clubbing as much as I could. I worked through the lingering depression, but I’d honestly had no more suicidal thoughts after my brother was gone, and my parents helped me find better coping mechanisms for when I did struggle rather than alcohol and . . .” Ezla looks murderous, and I decide not to mention another girl. It’s not like I want to either.

Internally, I push out, hoping it somehow gets through her sturdy walls or she’s already listening in like she so often does when me and the other men are oblivious, You’re the only one for me, HC.