Page 6 of The Bonding Games: Part 2

He doesn’t respond to that right away, and my eyes leave the satin I’ve been rubbing between my fingers to rest on him. “We both know that doesn’t mean anything. We won’t really have her at all.” Before I can give any more words on that matter, he says, “You need to go to the infirmary. Tate did a number on you. Have you even taken any Avritabs?” When I don’t speak, he carries on, voice hardening slightly, “You haven’t, have you? What the fuck, man? Are you punishing yourself or some shit?”

Teeth gritting, I answer, “It’s a reminder—”

“No, it’s unhealthy, that’s what it is. I’m really trying not to be an asshole here, but I have to say, Scotty, you’re pissing me right off.”

My brows shoot up, pain stabbing into every crevice of my face as a reward.

“Now, I don’t like to do this mushy shit with anyone but Vengeance—not that I’ve really had many bloody chances—but you know damn well without me having to say it that I view you as a brother, and I do not fucking need to be worrying about you when I am this close to losing my shit and hunting Ezla and her disgrace of a sperm donor down and making both our prickish words to her be all for nothing.” Cooper stands without warning, then points a stern finger at me. “Take some Avritabs. Then we’re going to the infirmary.”

“Cooper—”

“I’m not messing around here, Scotty. I swear I’ll get Tate to carry you there if you don’t move your ass. Ten minutes, that’s all I’m giving you. The others are worried, too—especially Tiger. He’s not spoken, but he keeps looking over here.” Guilt picks at me again. “This isn’t helping anyone.”

Swallowing roughly, I nod.

Dipping his chin in return, he turns on his heel, heading back to the dining room without another word.

The fact that he’s just given me a scolding like that, Cooper of all people coming to help me, only further drives home how bad things are. But it effectively gets me moving. I refuse to cause my brothers any more pain than they’re already drowning in.

Closing my eyes—or eye, I should say, when one’s already sewn itself shut—I bring the bunched satin closer to my face again. I breathe Ezla in, attempting to get as much of that hot cinnamon as I can before the scent fades, just in case . . . Then I get up, sucking in a sharp breath as pain crashes against my ribs in searing-hot bursts. Folding the dress neatly, I place it gently on top of the pile of gold by the wall, and I go to the people I care about who I can actually do something for right now.

4

TATE

I refuse to turn the Avri lights down as I stroke a finger over my girl’s helmet. Pressing the framed picture of her close to my chest as I lie awake in bed, I imagine it’s her body in my arms, her warmth seeping into me.

Havoc, Havoc, Havoc, Havoc . . .

I’ve tried to speak with her through the bond numerous times, and my frustration, along with the smarting in my chest, rises every time I earn no hint of velvet and sin for my efforts.

I don’t want to think about what it means that she’s not responding. If I could, I’d pretend the pressing silence is only due to her being her usual cold self. But after last night, it’s impossible to make myself believe that. After the barrage of memories me and the other guys were hit with all those hours ago, we already know a good portion of what Ezla’s been through. Which means she’s blocking me, blocking all her Bonds, to keep something worse from spilling through.

Just the thought of what I fucking know could be happening right now has every atom of me shaking, wrath like no other mixing with so much pain, I’m hardly holding on to my sanity.

If it weren’t for the fact that my Bonded is so ridiculously smart, I’d be storming right off to the Techtis Council building right now to find her. Doesn’t matter that I don’t have a fucking clue if she’s even in there at this moment, or what bloody floor she’d even be on—though I suspect it’s likely the top with her and her disease of a sperm donor’s power—I’d trash the entire place in my search for her.

In fact . . .

Gliding a finger over my girl’s figure once more, I swing my legs over the side of my bed. Ever so gently, I set the picture down on my bedside table before yanking open the top drawer and snatching up my armoury sticks. Uncaring about my state of undress, I clutch a baton in either hand, every limb charging up, readying for a fight. I can feel the energy in the armoury sticks humming, singing as it prepares to form into weapons of my choosing, and I mentally flick through my options, thinking through which would be best to hack into each tendon of Joseph’s hideous being.

Marching for the door in nothing but my boxer briefs, roaring flames rampage through my veins. Not sure what the fuck I was thinking, but there’s no way I’m just sitting here when—

A hissed curse meets my ears as the taalk slides away from the wall.

Brows crashing together, my chin drops to the floor.

“The fuck are you doing?” I grunt.

Scotty stares up at me from the taalk, busted lips tightening.

Pride fills me up at the sight of his wrecked face, though he unfortunately looks a little better after his trip to the infirmary earlier. Doesn’t matter if I now know his behaviour was to protect our Bonded, he still fucking deserved to be beaten to a pulp. No one talks about my Havoc like that.

“Guarding your room,” he tells me, rising to his feet from where he’d clearly been having a nice little nap out here, thinking he could actually stop me if I tried to leave. “Because I knew you’d try to do something stupid.”

“Well, you’re relieved from duty.” I step around him, continuing on my mad march to the exit.

“Tate,” Scotty hisses quietly, striding after me and whirling me around with a hand on my shoulder. “First of all, we’ve already been through this. Trust me, this is fucking killing me, but we aren’t risking Ezla’s safety like this. I have no goddamn clue how far that maniac will go in attempt to control her, or what he’ll do if he realises he never truly can. And second, were you really going to try and fight the Game Master in your underwear?”