Page 45 of The Games We Play

“How’s the wrist?” Thomas asks as we all sit down. Michael has put on his headphones and turned away from us. His sign he wants to be left alone. And after such an epic adventure, we let him sit and calm himself.

“Hurts, but not as much as the rest of me. I feel like I hit a wall.”

Thomas huffs. “I know how that feels.”

“You do?”

He shrugs. “Can’t work with Uncle Cillian and not get hurt occasionally.”

I look at Michael, then to my other brother. “Don’t you want to get out?” I ask. “We could go somewhere with Michael. The three of us could live together until Michael is settled. I wouldn’t mind taking care of him. With two incomes and shared expenses, we could work it all out, right? We’d be able to afford Michael’s support staff if we got jobs somewhere it’s cheaper to live.”

I want him to say yes. I want an option to make all this right that doesn’t involve betraying Spark.

Thomas eyes me carefully. “Iris, don’t talk like this.”

“Why not? Do you know what he’s asked me to do? He asked me to—”

“Stop,” Thomas says. “If Cillian wanted me to know, he’d have told me.”

Anger flares fast. “How do you operate like this? Like cold soldiers?”

“Because we are just that. Soldiers fight for a cause. Casualties happen, Iris. You know that. It’s why you’re safer in the family than out of it.”

“You sound just like him.” My voice is razor sharp as I spit the words. I remember Thomas, the boy who would paint with me on rainy Sunday afternoons, who used to race around Cillian’s marble mansion on his skateboard. I still see the old Thomas, in the way he took Michael out for a ride on the train and came to see me with flowers because of my accident. But he’s slipping away from me as surely as winter is coming.

“That’s not the insult to me you think it is.” Thomas takes a deep breath. “I won’t tell Cillian what you suggested, Iris, because I love you. But don’t ask me again. And don’t involve Michael in your plans. Cillian will never forgive you.”

“Cillian doesn’t love Michael the way youthinkhe does.” Otherwise he wouldn’t be threatening his care.

The side of Thomas’s jaw ticks. “He does. Now. Can we just enjoy the next hour, or you want me to take Michael home?”

Tears sting my eyes, but I simply nod.

“Good.”

Sixty minutes later, their ride arrives. Cillian steps out of the black limousine.

“Iris,” he says when I meet him at the door.

I step onto the porch and pull the door closed so Thomas and Michael can’t hear us. “Cillian.”

I know I’m going to give him what he wants because I have no power to do otherwise in this moment. But I’ve made a mental plan in the past hour. It’s not a strong one, but it’s all I can think of. Michael will be eighteen soon enough, and I’m going to save like shit so I can get him the care he needs to live his best life once he reaches adulthood.

I can’t afford to do that yet, so for now, he’ll have to stay with Cillian.

And I’m going to stall when it comes to Spark.

Cillian glances down at my brace, then back at me. “Get Thomas and Michael.”

The casual dismissal of my injury is irritating. “That’s all you have to say?”

Cold blue eyes glare back at me. “Casualties happen in families like ours. I’ve seen my fair share. You can’t get upset every time there’s a scratch.”

“A fracture. And that’s not my experience.”

“I know you wish you’d been born to some other man in some other family. But you weren’t, Iris. You’ve always been a liability, hanging in the wind. Neither in nor out.”

“I’m out. I live alone. I’m not part of your machine.”