Page 59 of These Wicked Games (Wicked Sins #1)

“For a few weeks now,” Oli says. “I didn’t know about the drug test, though I suspected something.” I almost snort.

“And Mr. Tavares, you want to press charges?”

“Yes.” Oli now squeezes my hand. I can still feel his knee bouncing.

Tonight was a lot, between Grey getting injured, Oli saying he loved me on national TV—which I still haven’t said anything about—then my father.

Ryker had gone down to our team doctor after the game to get two stitches on his eyebrow from when a stick got him in the face.

When he came back, he heard our conversation and made the quick decision to start filming.

I still can’t believe it’s finally over.

“Will he get out on bail?”

The officer shakes his head. “We see him as a flight risk. His house has been searched and we found a plane ticket for Colombia, so he’s being held without bond.

There’ll also be an investigation into a Dr. Wexel.

Forging test results and contaminating a player’s tests isn’t something that will be taken lightly. ”

“Fuck the tests,” Oli snaps. “What about the abuse?”

“He’ll be dealt with to the full extent of the law.” He tries to reassure us, but I know how this could go. He might get off with a slap on the wrist. We have evidence, though, and with the drug tests he could see years, maybe decades.

Either way, I’m done. It’s over. “We’ll keep you updated.

” The other cop slides his card to me. “If there’s anything else, please don’t hesitate to contact us.

” The officer gives me a look. “There will be a trial. Don’t worry,” he says, looking back at whatever the fuck he’s writing down.

“There’s a lot of evidence to support this, plus the confession about the drug tampering.

That doctor will definitely lose his license as well.

The media storm will be intense, though.

I just want to warn you and your friend . ”

“Boyfriend.” I glare at him. God, that just doesn’t feel right. I don’t like the way it sounds. It’s too little for what I feel for him. “He’s my partner.” The officer blinks at me, unimpressed by this declaration and writing something else down.

“If you think of anything else, here’s my card.

” He hands it to me and I stuff it into my pocket.

“I hope you and your . . . boyfriend have a better night.” Do not punch the officer .

Don’t punch him. My chair scrapes loudly and slowly against the floor as I rise to my full height, looking down at him.

“Will do.” I turn to leave, weaving through the precinct.

I feel Oli at my back. I want to hold him.

My nightmare is over but also just beginning.

People will poke and prod at this for months, maybe years.

There’ll be questions everywhere we turn and documentaries made.

It’s all anyone will be talking about, and there’ll be no escaping it the way I know he’ll want to.

What if it becomes to much for him?

Oli pretends to be unbothered, but it’s just a mask he wears while running away from all our problems. We don’t have to run anymore, though, and if he does he can run straight into my arms where he belongs. I’m not letting him go.

I take down my hair, shaking it out and pulling it back into a bun on top of my head.

He turns to me outside and grabs my wrist, making me let my hair go, and it tumbles down my shoulders.

Oli’s soft smile is a gentle caress. He slowly pulls a curl between his fingers, smiling as he watches it spring back.

“Your hair should be spilled across my pillow right now as I fuck away the day we’ve just had.

” He steps closer, cupping my jaw, his thumbs soothing me. “How are you—”

“I love you.” I won’t hold it back anymore. Tonight was too much, but in all the terrible chaos I can’t forget the words he said on national TV.

“Who I’m in love with has nothing to do with the sport I play.”

“I’ll be okay. I promise. Don’t treat me like I’m made of glass. Not now. ”

Oli looks at me a moment before he tugs me against his body, hugging me tight. At first I’m stiff—I don’t know what he’s doing—but then he buries his face into my neck. “I got you. It’s over.”

I don’t know why, but I crumble. “Then why does it feel like it’s only just starting?”

He pulls back to look at me, and he cups my face as I soak in the soft look in his eyes.

There’s nothing I won’t do for him. It hits me now, how real this is between us.

I’ll fight every day of my life if Oli is who I get to come home to.

The sun to my moon. The stars to my earth.

“It’s over, babe.” He kisses my forehead.

“He won’t hurt you anymore. Come on.” He presses one last kiss to my face. “Let’s go see Grey.”

“Fuck.” Atlas puts his head in his hands. He’s been here for hours and I want him to go get some sleep, but I know it’ll take an effort to get him away from Grey’s side. They have a bond that’s strong, even closer than Grey’s and Oli’s. He’s not helping anyone here like this, though.

An ACL tear. “They don’t think he’s going to play again, at least not for a while—maybe never. He needs surgery, and I haven’t been able to see him yet. The doctor just came in and said he’s asleep.”

“We can sit here for a while. You should probably get some—”

“No.” Atlas looks down at the floor. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Are you friends of Greyson?” We look up, seeing a doctor come toward us. Oli nods, standing.

“How is he doing?” Oli asks.

“Can I see him?” Atlas pleads. I loop my arm with his, offering him some support. “Is he awake?”

She looks uncomfortable, then slides her eyes to Oli. “Mr. Tremblay has asked everyone to go home. I just came out to tell you guys.”

“Go home? Fuck that, I’m not—”

“He’s not up for visitors. He’s just asked if you guys could go home. Get some sleep. He’ll take visitors when he’s ready.”

“Fuck that. I’m not leaving him here—”

“Atlas—”

“No, fuck that, Oli! If this were Andre, you wouldn’t just go home!” he snaps. I see it then, and I don’t know why I never saw it before. It’s as if everything that’s ever happened between us all just clicks into place. Atlas, he’s . . . I think he’s in—“No, don’t. I’m not leaving.”

She sighs, looking at her clipboard. “Mr. Tremblay—”

“His name is Grey!” he shouts. “And he’s my best fucking friend, and I’m not leaving here!”

“He said . . .” she continues, unbothered. “If the stubborn shithead with the black hair and blue eyes gives you any problems, remind him of the promise he made to me.”

His face drops. “Oh, that’s not fucking fair!” he grumbles. “ Ohhh, I hate him!” His fingers clench into fists at his sides. He’s acting like a child right now.

“Come on, let’s go back to our hotel, okay? You can stay with us.” I squeeze his arm, trying to distract him.

“Fine!” Atlas’s lips purse. “But I get to sleep in the middle of both of you!”

“We have two beds,” Oli whispers.

I shake my head, just happy he’s listening, but also curious about what this promise is between them.

“You can sleep with me, Atlas. Andre snores.”

“Fuck you, I don’t snore. Careful Atlas, he’ll drool all over your pillow. You’re going to have to wring that bitch out in the morning.”

“Fuck off, you love it when I drool all over you,” Oli smirks.

“Gentlemen.” The doctor blinks. “All of you get the fuck out of my hospital.” She beams. “Please. We’ll update you all tomorrow.”

I nearly black out the second my head hits the pillow. It takes everything in me to stay awake while Atlas alternates between crying and raging, snuggled between us. “What did you promise Grey?”

“It’s nothing, Oli.”

“Oh, well, sorry, forgot you’re the only one allowed to have secrets.

Atlas rolls over to face me. It’s dark for the most part, and I can only faintly make out his features in my bed. “It’s nothing. Okay?” Atlas’s head rests on my shoulder. “He’s like a million degrees. How do you sleep with him?” he whines.

“Again . . .” Oli says from the other side of the bed. “There are two beds here!”

“You know I like to be cuddled when I’m sad!” Atlas is quiet, and I think he’s blissfully fallen asleep before he opens his mouth. “What if he can’t play anymore?”

“I know it’s hard, but let’s not play the what-if game right now. Alright? You know I’m here too. We’re friends too. If you need to talk you can tell me anything,” I say.

“And he probably will, because Atlas tells everyone but me his secrets,” Oli huffs.

“Not now!” I snap at my grumpy boyfriend.

“I’m sorry,” Atlas concedes. “I’m so scared.

” It’s moments like now, when shit truly hits the fan, that I remember how much younger he is than me, Oli, and Grey.

Four years may not seem like a lot but Atlas is in a different phase of his life than we are.

“He’s not going to play again this year. Maybe not ever.”

Oli rolls over, putting his arm around Atlas. “Hey, he’s going to be okay. Alright? He’s going to have surgery and rehab and he’ll be fine.”

“He has the best doctors, the best medical care. He’ll get through this,” I add, although none of us know. Atlas doesn’t answer, he just sinks into our warmth.

“As soon as we’re back home, we’ll visit him. The hospital will be so sick of us.” That makes him laugh. “I even bet there’ll be cute nurses you can hit on.”

That makes him laugh a little before a sniffle sounds between us. “I don’t want cute nurses. I want my friend to be okay.”

“I know.” I soothe my hand along his back, pulling him into me .

Finally he’s quiet, and his breaths even out against my skin. It’s quiet in this room, and after this whole night I am dead tired.

“Andre,” Oli whispers.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for being here tonight, with him. I appreciate it.”

“Of course. He’s my friend too.” I close my eyes, trying to get comfortable. “Good night, Oli.”

It’s quiet for a moment and I think he’s fallen asleep. “Good night, my zayka .”

Bastard.