Page 110 of Heartless Game

I flashed back to that day in the kitchen where I’d told Tovah about my mom’s death and the little girl. She’d defended her, hadn’t she? I’d thought that was odd at the time but blamed it on her journalism dreams and her big heart.

She was just a kid, wasn’t she? Do you really think she’d plot against you that way? Or was she just an innocent bystander with no control of her own?

For a moment, just a moment, I considered what she’d said was true.

But if that were the case, why lie to me?

Because you would have thrown her to the wolves, my inner voice argued.

No, fuck that. She’d betrayed me.

Maybe Tovah was right, and I couldn’t blame her when she’d been a child. But still, she’d lied to me, hidden the truth. What else was she hiding, while she slept in my goddamned bed?

Denial roared within me, and then betrayal. My goddamn chest felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it. I’d been beaten up, shoved into the boards, gotten concussions during hockey. But none of it, not a single second, had hurt like this did.

My stomach roiled, and my dinner threatened to come back up. I couldn’t even stand, so I crawled to the bathroom, barely making it in time to the toilet before I leaned over it and puked my guts out. It felt like it lasted for hours, and when I was done, there was nothing left inside of me.

I was empty.

Tovah lied to me, hidden our connected past from me, fucked me, planned to expose me and my family…had she even let that go? Or had she been plotting against me this whole time? She’d been in the office with Toby earlier—and although she’d told me the exposé was dead, why should I believe her? She’d lied about who she was, she could be lying about that, too.

What kind of viper had I allowed into my heart?

Mine, the monster roared, stopping me from doing anything I might regret.

It was right. She was still mine. I might not be able to trust her, but I was keeping her, all the same.

Slowly and methodically, I finished cleaning the area, quickly cutting the skin, placing the microchip, and stitching it back up. Tovah didn’t stir.

When I was finished, I stared down at her, this stranger in my home.

And I hated that my heart had partially healed, that I even had one. Because the fuckerhurt.So much, it was hard to breathe.

I’d never known you could love and hate someone so intensely.

Because I did. I still loved Tovah, with every part of me.

And hated her, equally.

I didn’t have a heart, after all. She’d stolen it from me.

And I wanted it back.

* * *

I didn’t sleepat all. The next morning, I was an exhausted mess. It was a major problem, because we had an away game that night.

Without saying a word to her, I grabbed her by the arm and dragged her into the shower. She glared at me, arms crossed, also not speaking, as I washed my body and hair, for once not bothering to wash her. It was a ritual I’d come to love, but I didn’t trust myself to not be rough right now. I was too angry.

I stepped out of the spray so she could step under it. I tried not to watch, but it was impossible, and I finally gave up the battle, eyes on her hands as she lathered that perfect body with soap.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“I own that sweet body,” I told her. “I can stare as much as I want.”

“You aren’t staring like you want to fuck me,” she pointed out as she backed away. “You’re staring like you want to stab me.”

“I might,” I said nonchalantly. “But I’m going to use your body to get off first. That’s all you’re good for, isn’t it, little hack?”

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