Page 110 of Deceptive Games

“She’d blow Skeet and get her way,” I huffed, just as an arm dropped around my shoulders and Slash grinned at me.

“If you’re offering to blow me, I’ll give you what you want.”

“I want to fight,” I answered, making him snort.

“Absolutely not. Not even if you swallowed.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“You’d get annihilated, Johnson. These guys don’t fight like you rich assholes in the school yard,” he sighed, and I shoved his arm off me.

“Fuck you, I can handle myself.”

“It’s not an official fight night, the guys are just?—”

“Let me take them on then!” I snapped, drawing attention from some of the Psychos close by. One of them eyed me with amusement, jerking his chin at the cage.

“Go on, boss. I’ll fight him.”

“I said no,” Slash said firmly, glaring at me.

“The kid wants to get his ass beat, so let him,” Matteo stated as he joined us, crossing his arms. His face was beat to shit, courtesy of Skeeter, I’d bet. “He thinks he can handle it.”

Slash scowled, snatching the bottle and grabbing the back of my shirt, hauling me away from the bar.

“I said no. He’d get his ass handed to him, and then what? His rich asshole parents report it to the cops and drag fancy lawyers in. I’m not having it in my Shed.”

“It’s not like they ever come home. You let Donovan,” Matteo reminded him as I struggled to get Slash to release me, but he held firm.

“There’s a reason she’s banned too. Get the fuck in my office, Ty. Now,” he snarled, dragging me across the room, much to other people’s amusement.

I cursed at him, but he didn’t let go until we were locked inside, where he shoved me back against the wall and got in my face. “Do you want to tell me why the fuck you’re trying to get yourself killed?”

“You know I can fucking fight, asshole. You’re acting like I can’t!”

“We put bodies in the ground for a living, and you fucking know it. What’s your problem? Do you need a fucking drinking buddy or something? Is this a rich boy crisis?”

I scoffed, shoving him away. “Fuck you.”

He frowned, hesitating before handing me the bottle. “Seriously, Ty. What’s up?”

“My parents are assholes, and I’m third wheeling with my friends,” I said, realizing how dumb that sounded, but he gave me a nod in understanding.

“Skeet and D won’t work with me. I get it.”

I swigged from the bottle, eyeing him. “Why not?”

“Rory,” he said with a shrug, his voice dropping. “Is she okay?”

“You mean after she hit you?” I asked dryly, making him wince.

“Yeah.”

“You want to tell mewhyshe hit you? She won’t tell us shit.”

He looked guilty as fuck as he raked a hand through his hair, moving to sit behind his desk.

“I just overstepped, and she didn’t appreciate my apology, that’s all. Did she have a good night after I left?”