Page 85 of A Lethal Game of Trust

“We got it out of our systems. We just needed a little fresh start, you with her and me with him. But we’re back here now. Full circle.”

Swiping her hand away from me was meant to anger her, but her voice remained calm.

“You’ll get bored of her soon,” she drawled in my ear, her fingers traipsing down my t-shirt. “She’s too… vanilla. Too damn-right dull. Hell, she’s practically your sister.”

I pushed her off. “I was going to let you say goodbye to Ghost. Now, I’m not. Get your fucking shit and get out of my house.”

32

Security Camera

Leonie

Tuesday, I marked the dissertations until noon. Sick of my own company, I pestered Robbie over the phone. He’d found very little, his hacker friend getting through the accounts. I didn’t dare to text Dom.

Wednesday, I went to the gym in our apartment block and redownloaded some dating apps. Every man on there was an empty void or the same personality of a football/rugby lad with a dash of misogyny.

Thursday, I went to the shooting range, then dragged my duvet to the sofa, feigning a cold to Issy. I did anything to avoid feeling hurt by Dom’s rejection.

Friday, there was a knock on my door.

Despite the continuing heat, I was decked out in a high neck jumper under the blanket, back on the sofa again. I was sick of having to hide the bruises Dom had made on my throat and chest.

I wassweating.

“Guess I’ll get it!” Issy groaned. She’d already come back from her morning shift at the bakery, had her training session with Andy, been to the bank and was about to head out for a spin class. She’d already packed for her trip home too.

All in the time I’d been on the sofa. I looked up at her and smiled with a shrug. “If you insist.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know, you are allowed to quit your course. Just because you don’t want to be a lecturer anymore, it doesn’t mean you have to mope. It’s not exactly like you won’t have any money.”

My smile only grew more awkward. She sighed and went to the door where she immediately straightened her back.

“Rocco,” she greeted formally as the huge man walked past her into the living room. “You’re past your station post.”

Rocco stood there, dressed in black, stressed leather jacket on despite the remaining heat wave and gave a stern expression.

He ran a hand over his dark beard, ignoring his ex-lover. Or not so ex-lover. Rocco was not a topic you brought up with Issy unless you wanted to be threatened.

“When are you going to stop sulking and leave the house?”

“Oh, hi Leo, how are you?” I mocked but threw off the blanket covering me. “And what are you chatting about?” I glanced at Issy, who was back in her own world, filling up her water bottle, humming. “I have left the house every day for the last… I leave the house. I left yesterday.”

He stood in our living room, unsure what to do with himself. He took up so much room. “Yeah, the shooting range doesn’t count. You didn’t come down to our training yesterday. Issy said you had a cold.”

Issy stopped humming. “Right, off you bothgo! Teach her how to shoot a gun or a sword or an arrow for all I care, but only return her when she is less moody.”

“Shoot a sword?” Roc asked, smothering an amused grin.

She cocked a hip and placed her hand there. She finally looked at Rocco, their glares making me roll my back.

“Get out of my flat and take grump with you,” she commanded.

He didn’t look away. Neither did she.

So I pushed myself off the sofa and slipped out of my slippers and into my socks and trainers before grabbing a top from my room and taking his hand, pulling us out of the apartment.

“When did you see Issy?” I asked, raising my brows.