Page 48 of Carrick
“You traded away your sheep for a development card and built a road tonowhere,” Maddy pointed out.
“It was astrategic detour!”
Bellamy rolled and moved a robber into Sully’s ore zone.
“No!” he cried. “My beautiful rocks!”
“Long live the queen,” Jax muttered.
I turned to her. “You just made us public enemies.”
She shrugged. “You’ll protect me.”
“Damn right I will.”
She held my gaze a second longer than necessary, and in that pause, everything else fell away. I stopped caring about longest road, or victory points, or whatever absurd, over-the-top nonsense Sully had built into this round.
All I cared about was her. The sound of her laughter when she wrecked someone’s strategy. The way she reached for my hand without thinking whenever she made a smart move. The way she wasn’t just surviving here—she was thriving. I watched her fall into the rhythm of this ridiculous, loud, brilliant team and settle in like she’d always belonged. And God help me, I wanted her to stay.
By round eight, the alliances had frayed like cheap rope. Jax was in the middle of what could only be described as a structured emotional spiral.
“This is a hostile work environment,” he snapped, jabbing a finger in Deacon’s direction. Deacon had just stolen his lastsettlement spot without flinching, offering no justification beyond sheer tactical violence.
“You’re a snake in tactical gear!” Jax hissed.
“Correct,” Deacon said, not even looking up.
“But we’re on the same team!” Jax whined.
“Correct.”
Maddy was hoarding ore like it was currency in the apocalypse. Sully had abandoned all logic and was attempting to win through “chaotic neutral barter,” which mostly meant shouting things like, “Three wood and a favor to be named later!”
But Bellamy? Bellamy was on fire. She played with ruthless grace, brushing her fingers over the board like it owed her tribute. Her plans didn’t feel rushed or forced—they felt inevitable. Like gravity.
She made a trade with Maddy that looked innocent. I saw it immediately for what it was.
A trap.
“You’re about to bankrupt Sully,” I muttered.
Bellamy grinned, slow and smug. “Aren’t you proud?”
“Impossibly.”
“Then back me up.”
“You already had me.”
Her smile faltered—just for a second—and something quiet passed between us. Not heat. Not lust. Something slower. Heavier.
And then Jax rolled a seven.
“Oh no,” Bellamy said, gaze flicking to me.
“Ohyes,” Jax declared. “Robber time, baby.”
He dragged the robber piece toward Bellamy’s richest tile. I reached out, casually placing two fingers over it.
