Page 108 of Ruthless Game

“Um.” Tovah raised a hand. “Not after you say something like that. We’re coming with you.”

“At the very least, we can be moral support,” Aviva said.

They followed me up through the stands to the concourse, around to the visiting team’s side, and into their stands. I stomped up and down the stairs, not caring about the looks I was getting. There weren’t a lot of people here, they had to be⁠—

—I spotted them, sitting side by side, wearing Corcoran jerseys. They were giggling about something, carefree and happy. Bitches. They had no idea what was coming to them.

I marched right up to them.

“Um, did you need something?” one asked.

“Yeah, because you look kind of scary, staring at us like that,” the other added.

“Oh, you rapey bitches have no idea how scary I’m about to get,” I said, briefly gratified by their offended gasps.

“Excuse me⁠—”

“No, I won’t excuse you. You’re both going to come with me right now—unless you want all these lovely fellow Corcoran fans to know that you both assaulted a younger⁠—”

“Shit, okay,” the first one said, glancing at the other. “We’ll come with you, okay? Just keep your voice down.”

I didn’t want to keep my voice down. I wanted to scream my rage to the rafters, but that would only embarrass Max, and I wouldn’t do that to him. But I would make sure these two girls never, ever thought of hurting anyone else, ever again.

And I’d make them fucking pay.

“But the game is starting, Melanie.”

I growled.

“Okay, okay, we’ll come with you,” she quickly said, raising her hands to appease me.

Tails between their legs, I followed them out of the stands and back to the nearly empty concourse, no witnesses save for a few people working at the concession stand. TVs showed the introductions of the players, and the puck drop. Max was on the bench, and Asher was in the net. That was good—it meant that my boyfriend couldn’t go after the Corcoran player mixed up in all of this and get thrown out of the game.

“Well?” the one called Melanie said to me. I recognized her; she was the one who’d stuck her hand in Max’s jeans that night. She’d touched my man’s dick, without his goddamn permission or consent.

“Emma, be chill,” Tovah warned beside me.

I glanced down at my fisted hands. Guess I’d hulked out a little.

“Do you remember the Gehenom High graduation party a few years ago?”

The two girls glanced at each other.

“Shit, I knew you looked familiar,” the one called Stephanie, who’d had her lips all over my man’s neck and lips, said. “Look, girl⁠—”

“No. No ‘Look, girl.’” I drew myself up to my full height, which, to be fair, was a few inches shorter than her, but at the moment, I was angry enough I could’ve knocked those extra inches off her. “You took advantage of my drunk boyfriend. You both touched him, kissed him, without his permission or consent. Do you know what that makes you? Motherfucking sexual predators.”

“What?!” Melanie’s mouth opened and closed like a demented fish. “I am not a sexual predator for hooking up with a hot guy at a party.”

“Melanie—” Stephanie, who seemed slightly wiser–or at least aware of my anger–tried to stop her.

But Melanie was an idiot, and an indignant one at that, because she ignored her friend and kept going. “You’re just pissed and feeling territorial over your boyfriend. Or ex-boyfriend?” She shrugged. “Whatever. He wanted us. He was fun.”

I thought I knew what rage felt like, but I’d had no idea.

“He didn’t want either of you. He didn’t want it.”

“He’s a man,” she scoffed. “He has a dick. Of course he wanted it.”