Page 78 of The Games We Play

“Darius and November aren’t anything. I can handle it.”

Doc shakes his head. “That’s not what I’m referring to. Although the entire situation is bloody fucked any way you look at it. You got not just Darius and all his contacts on your ass, but November and other contracts that work for her, too.”

“But that’s not the part you’re referring to?” I quip.

“Don’t get in your own way, and certainly don’t make decisions for other people. Ask her what she wants.”

She?

I turn my head, angling my gaze toward the empty doorway Tess disappeared through. How is she holding up? Is she plagued with nightmares? Does she hate me? How could she possibly still want me after watching Ryan get shot by her father? A situation they were in because of me, because of my need for revenge. A need that still burns deep in my core, only now it’s nearly uncontrollable, and I’m losing my ability to not react to pure emotions alone.

“Xane,” Doc says. I turn to face him and shake my head.

“She’s—I can’t, I’m—”

“Exactly who and what she needs. Do you know she hasn’t slept since you all arrived? When she got here, she never cried or questioned anything I said. She did it and sat at your bedside until thirty minutes ago before you walked in. That dog never left you, period, except to go outside.”

“Doc,” I say with exasperation. “She’s a fucking kid—I used her. I had a full plan to ruin her and kill her in front of her father because he killed Lance. She’s smart. I know she has put those pieces together by now. She’s probably waiting to see if I lived so she could kill me herself.” I lean back and wince at the pain in my side. “She’s probably outside planning how to kill me right now. Not that I blame her.” Dying by Puppet’s hand would be the greatest death I could ever ask for. I’d put up a fight, but only to make it that much sweeter for her when she drained the life from my eyes.

“Or,” Doc raises his brows. “She wants the same thing you do.”

“No,” I say, leaving no room for an argument in my tone. “I’m not letting her get anywhere near my life. Getting her away and safe is the one good thing I can do, and I’m going to do it.”

“That girl loves you, and now she’s scarred for life. She’s a part of this world and has a taste for killing. Sending her away, thinking you can just wipe the slate clean, is foolish and beyond ignorant.”

“Doc,” I say with a warning in my tone. I don’t need it spelled out for me how much I fucked up her chances of ever having a future. I’m well aware after hearing him tell her all about my past. I refuse to let Puppet go down the same road as me, and in fifteen years, her laying on a couch littered with bullet holes, with her body too weak to even walk.

“Don’tDocme. I know what you’re doing. You’re pushing her away because you think that’s what is best. We don’t know if Darius survived or not. And November won’t stop until you’re dead. How you protected that girl tells her all she needs to know about whom to go after to get to you.”

I shove up from the couch, my stitches pulling in my left shoulder and side.

“I know! I know all of that! I’ve damned her and—and I’m not enough to protect her from this.” Pacing the length of the floor, I stride to the wall and slam my fist into the drywall.

“Great. Now, do you feel better?” Doc chastises, and I whirl on him. “That’s right. Hit me. Take your anger out on the wrong person for the second time in the past five minutes.”

My anger gives me the strength to walk past him independently and back to the room I woke up in. It’s better this way. She’ll be better off this way. I’m on my own now, and I’ll have to track down Darius andNovember. I’m not naïve enough to assume they’re both dead. They’re a pair of cockroaches that, even under the heel of a shoe, won’t die.

I close the door and grab the bottle of pain pills on my nightstand. Tossing several back, I lay down and beg for sleep. The physical pain is nothing compared to the war between my heart and mind.

***

I stare at theceiling, my arm draped over my forehead as I lay back on the bed. Apparently, I’m too restless for sleep but too tired to physically move. Tomorrow, I’ll have to make some calls to people I can trust and see if I can learn about Darius and November. Then I’ll need to find someone who can be bought off to get Tess new identification and buy her place to start fresh, far away from me.

Frantic knocks come from my door, and I grab the gun off the nightstand, readying myself for a fight.

“Xane,” Doc says, jiggling the doorknob. “Xane! She’s gone.”

“What?” I shout, quickening my steps and ripping the door open. Doc stands in sleep pants and a plain white T-shirt, his glasses askew on his nose. “What do you meanshe’s gone?”

“I mean, she’s not here.” His voice drops to a calm level, but panic takes me over. “The car is still parked behind the barn, so she either went on foot or—”

Did someone break in here while I was passed out on pain medication and take her? I jerk a pair of pants on and pull a shirt over my head. A stitch pops, but I don’t have time to deal with that right now.

“Call the Saunders brothers. See what they know. If it’s November or Darius, I want to know everything in the next fifteen minutes. Go through our list of people who will turn a blind eye for cash and learn everything you can,” I order Doc. He nods and grabs his phone, already starting on the task.

I grab my holsters and check that each pistol is loaded before securing them. After slipping my shoes on, I jog to the car and place my phone in the passenger seat, awaiting Doc’s call.

I don’t recognize the man in the rear-view mirror as I back out of the hidden spot. My eyes are surrounded by dark circles, and I clearly haven’t maintained my beard in days. Graying hairs speckled my brown scruff, and I cringe at how much I look like I’ve aged since I thought Puppet—fuck,Tess—was dead.

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