Page 37 of Ruthless Game

Great. The last thing I needed was one of my family members checking in on me.

Wrapping a bath sheet around me—regular towels never covered me fully—I opened the door a crack, only to see my brother standing there. He eyed me up and down, a look in his eyes I couldn’t decipher, maybe judgment, I wasn’t sure, but I suddenly felt naked in a horrible way, even though the bath sheet completely covered my chest and fell below my knees.

“Who were you talking to?” he asked. I expected concern, but instead only heard suspicion.

“Who do you think?” I countered, not in the mood for whatever hypocritical lecture he was about to deliver.

He sighed, the fight going out of him. “Em, I’m sorry. I know this is my fault. What is he making you do? I’m your brother. You can tell me.”

Behind me, my phone was still vibrating, sounding almost angry. Urgent, at least.

“Is that him, calling? What the hell is happening between you two?”

“He’s, he’s making me …” I trailed off. For some reason, even though Lawson had blackmailed me into sex of all kinds with him, it felt private between us. He had me so fucked in the head, I wanted to protect it. Or maybe I was embarrassed. I was certainly angry.

“You can guess what he’s making me do,” I finally admitted. It was the most he was going to get out of me. “But what does it matter, Jeffrey? What are you going to do? Fess up? Fight him? You told me I needed to do this to protect you, so that’s what I’m doing. Instead of accusation, a damn thank you would be nice.”

“Em, I’m not accusing you of anything. I don’t want him touching you. Not after what he did. I bet if we put our heads together, we can come up with something. There’s got to be something on Lawson we can find, some sort of leverage. I’d say we tell mom and dad, but he’ll tell them about me …”

“Jeffrey, why are you taking those PEDs to begin with? Why are you paying off your professors?”

He looked away from me, rubbing his ear. It was always his tell when he was ashamed of something. Or hiding something.

“All those guys are stronger than me. Have more endurance. I can’t keep up, and it’s driving me nuts. I’ll have no future in hockey if I don’t improve, and I wasn’t improving on my own.” He shrugged. “Everyone has a leg up on me, even in school, so why not do something that evens the playing field? I deserve it, Em. I deserve to have what they have.”

I stepped backward into the bathroom, shocked. My brother had always been, well, spoiled. But this entitlement, this anger—this assumption that he deserved to have it all, just for merely existing, it was, frankly, upsetting. Had he always been like this, or was this new?

“What, that’s not okay? Em, I just want to be happy. You want me to be happy, don’t you?” he said, and he looked so sad, I couldn’t help but feel bad for him. Maybe he was right. Not in using PEDs, but I could understand the frustration of not measuring up and needing to find a way to do so.

“What if you quit? What if you got a private coach to help? Tutors? Or find something else to⁠—”

“No.” His eyes flashed. “It’s hockey or nothing. But for you, I’ll quit taking them, I promise. I’d do anything for you, Em. And we’ll get you out of this. Use this opportunity of being closer to Lawson to find something on him that will help us win. He’ll trust you again, he’ll tell you. And then he’s out of our lives, for good.”

Satisfied, he leaned forward to kiss my cheek, and I had to force myself not to wince. Was this about winning for him? Not about protecting our family from heartbreak?

He pulled back, and there was a dark, monstrous look in his eyes, but I didn’t know what it meant. A moment later, it cleared, and he was just my brother again.

“Okay, I’ll let you get some sleep. Tomorrow’s a brand new day.” With that, he whistled and wandered off to his bedroom. “Night, Em.”

“Night,” I said, going back into the bathroom and locating my phone. On my way to my room, I glanced at Jeffrey’s door, which was open a crack. Through it, I glimpsed him cuddling with his girlfriend. I thought Kayleigh had long, brown, straight hair. I guess she’d dyed it blonde and cut and curled it.

Weird.

Back in my room, I tried to sleep, but, so overwhelmed, overwrought, and helpless, I stared at my blue ceiling with the glow in the dark star stickers until tears filled them, blurring my vision. Why was everyone trying to hurt me? And what was I going to do to stop it?

I must have finally fallen asleep, because I jerked awake when the covers moved and a man’s muscular arm slid around my waist. Bizarrely, my first thought was of Jeffrey, but the scent of sage and salt surrounded me. I still tensed, because what the hell was my tormentor doing in bed with me?

“Get the fuck out of here,” I said.

“No,” he told me. “You were crying. You only get to cry when I want you to cry, Starburst. Preferably when you’re choking on my cock. So I’m not leaving you alone to be sad all night, especially when I don’t know why.”

“I told you not to call me Starburst,” I mumbled into the pillow, suddenly exhausted by everything. “And that’s not how this works. You can’t make me sad and then be mad about it.”

“How did I make you sad?”

Your body is the only thing I still love about you.

I kept my mouth shut, so he started pressing kisses to my neck, my spine. “How did I make you sad? What did I say to hurt you? Tell me.”