Page 68 of The Games We Play

I grab his wrists and jerk his hands off me. “Not for you. Never.”

Douglas grabs my leash and jerks my neck to the side, and I cry out at the pain and grapple at the collar. “Hm, he didn’t teach you manners, it seems. You’re so…feral.”

His finger runs along my lips, and Itry to bite it.

He laughs and lifts me from his lap, keeping a firm grip on the leash. His other hand tangles in my hair, and he fists it to hold me in place. “Oh yes, you are a prize indeed. I’ll love it when I get to break you.”

“In your fucking dreams,” I seethe. His grin only widens, and he releases me. He glances over my shoulder, his smile softening, and he becomes a sense of regalness and belonging again, unlike the hungry beast that was just underneath me.

“Darius,” he greets and hands my leash back to my father. “You’ll be seeing me again,” he says toward me before walking away.

I’m shuffled through different men, all masked beyond recognition, and their hands don’t leave an inch of my body to the imagination. I’m paraded around like a piece of livestock. My feet hurt with each step, and I don’t think I can dance anymore.

Another masked man, another anonymous monster, takes my leash, and I’m dragged back to the dance floor. I don’t hear what they say. It can’t be anything I haven’t heard yet tonight.

Someone else takes my hand and places it on his shoulder while taking my other one in a waltz fashion. I glance up, and my leash dangles between us. He is the first one that hasn’t kept a hold of it.

His mask conceals every part of his face except his lips and his light brown hair that’s styled back.

“You look stunning,” he says. There is something familiar about his voice, but I can’t place it.

I don’t respond. I lost the fire five men ago when it turns out the comebacks only fuel their lust. Maybe staying quiet and acting meek is my ticket out of here.

“What happened here?” he asks, dropping his hunter-green eyes to the scar on my chest.

I remain silent, focusing on his shoulder and the sea of strangers.

He sighs and steps closer so our bodies are nearly flush. The scruff of his chin grazes across my exposed shoulder as we dance.

“Given up already?” he asks, but his voice is different. His accent, I know it. My body immediately responds, and I suck in a breath. “Don’t react, Puppet. Keep dancing with me, okay? I promise I’m going to get you out of here.”

I nearly cry in relief at being in X’s arms again. Relaxing in his hold, I let myself lean against his cheek. I check our surroundings. Is Dad watching? Does he know X is here? “He’s after you,” I whisper, barely moving my lips. “He knew you’d come. You can’t be here. You have to leave.”

His hand tightens around mine. “I need you to listen. Any second, your father is going to come take you away from me—”

“No—” I panic.

“Shh. The only person you’re leaving here with is me. But you have to trust me.” His breath ghosts my neck, and chill bumps dance along my skin. “Your father is going to come, and I’m going to give you back to him. The bidders will take their seats. I’ll be right up front. When your time comes, you’ll walk up the stage and keep your gaze on me. The lights will go out right before you’re sold. There are others like me placed throughout here tonight. Their goal is to get your father. I’m only after you, Puppet. I’ve got you, and I’m taking you so far away from here that they can’t hurt you.”

I want so badly to feel his lips press against my skin.

“So, you’re one of the good guys?” I ask.

“No, baby. I’m the worst kind of man. But you’re mine, and every fucker who’s touched you tonight will know it. It’ll be over soon.”

The inch of space he puts between us feels like miles. For a second, I felt safe. I was able to leave my reality and just breathe in his smell and revel in his touch.

“She’s a fine piece, Darius,” X says, his voice back to the stranger I don’t know.

“I think she went over very well tonight. Even with the hideous scar,” Dad states.

I keep my gaze locked on X as he hands my leash back. Another body moves up next to me, and I glance over to see Scott with his bandaged ear.

“What’s your name, mate?” he asks. My eyes widen as I glance back at X. Do they know? How could they possibly?

“Xane Williams,” X says and bows his head slightly. The muscles in his neck flex, but his demeanor remains calm.

“I don’t know you,” Scott states and steps forward, staring X down with curiosity. “And I know everyone on the list.”

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