Page 103 of The Games We Play

And I feel it.

I feel desired and precious and all those things he thinks of me.

Spark places a hand between us and guides himself out of me before turning me to face him. His eyes roam my face. My cheeks, my lips, my neck, finally my eyes.

“Never thought I’d meet my reason for being, Iris. Yet here you are.”

Tears sting as they fall over my lashes.

“Come here,” Spark says as he cuddles me close. I shake in his arms. “Such a brave little chick. You feel better?”

As I cry against his shoulder, I realize I do. I needed the release. Not just the sexual one. “I needed all of it.”

“Yeah. Me too, sweetheart. Me too.”

Fifty-eight minutes later, after a quick shower, we walk to King’s office with the long wooden table, but we linger outside. Saint, the last to arrive, grabs Spark’s shoulder before he steps inside to wait for us. “‘So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous hand.’ And if for any reason Isaiah is wrong, and God won’t ... I will. Whatever this is, I’ve got your back, brother.”

Emotions wash over Spark’s face as he watches Saint disappear inside. He bites down on his lower lip and inhales slowly, then squeezes my hand. “If there’s punishment, let me deal with what it is and how it’s handled.”

“I’m not going to sit there and let you take the fall for something my uncle put—”

His kiss catches me off guard, but I sink into it.

“You will,” he says, cupping my cheek. “And you’ll give me the strength to go through whatever it is.”

The sincerity in his eyes is astounding. “I promise.”

“Then let’s go deal with this.”

King looks at us expectantly when we step inside. I’ve met everyone seated around the table.

“Irish,” Halo says. “You causing trouble again?” There’s humor in his tone, but I wonder for how long it will stay there.

There is one chair left at the table; I know it’s Spark’s without being told. I move back against the wall, letting him step forward, but he takes my hand and encourages me to sit while he stands behind the black leather.

“She shouldn’t be in here,” Niro says.

“Well, she is,” Spark says.

“What’s going on?” King asks, elbows on the table, fingers steepled.

Everyone looks at Spark expectantly, even though it’s my fault we’re here. Instead of answering, he squeezes my shoulder, and knowing he’s there, watching my back, gives me the courage to admit what’s been happening. “Cillian thought what happened the night my dad died was an unplanned raid and pure bad luck.” Concisely, I explain his need for vengeance and what he’s willing to risk for it.

The room erupts into conversation. King and Clutch share a pained look. Bates slams the table. Track and Rubble mumble with Niro.

“Why do you know this?” Saint asks.

“Because he threatened me.” I raise the brace on my arm. “He caused the accident because he asked me to spy on you all for him and I refused to help him. He also knew that if I were hurt, Spark would help, forcing us together.”

Vex laughs or coughs—I can’t tell which. “Is that what we’re calling stalking these days?”

Switch definitely laughs at that.

Niro shakes his head. “It wasprotection.” He does air quotes around the word, and even Clutch can’t hide his grin.

“This isn’t funny,” I say.

Spark leans forward and whispers in my ear, “Gallows humor, little chick. Stops this world from being so dark.”