Page 8 of These Wicked Games (Wicked Sins #1)

Movement catches my eye as Andre gets up off the bar stool, and it’s now I see he’s not with anyone.

With the crowd around him I’d thought at least some of them must have been teammates.

He seems alone, though. His long hair is piled on his head, a couple of strands falling out, and the black dress shirt he’s wearing is unbuttoned down to his sternum, showing off the results of his hard workout routine.

As he walks through the crowd, a woman walking past him runs her hands along his stomach as she passes, and he looks back at her with a wink before turning and ignoring the obvious interest.

Sweetheart, he is not interested.

Anger ignites inside me and I have no clue where it comes from.

His eyes flick to mine, then he shakes his head with a smirk.

Fuck, I have to stop staring at him. He makes a beeline for our table.

Fuck! My chest becomes tight. I squeeze my shirt, begging for the claws at my throat to let up.

I can’t breathe. As he saunters up to our table I can’t look away, fixing my eyes on him.

My jaw cracks as my teeth grind. “What’s the matter, Oli? Do you want an autograph? Big fan?”

Downing the rest of my drink, I shake my head. “Just wondering how someone can fit their helmet on with a head that large.” His eyes darken.

“Oh, is that it, Oli?” Andre grins. “Got a little size envy, do you?”

“Get fucked, Andre. Leave us alone,” Atlas warns.

He braces his hands on the table, and Grey curses under his breath. “I would love to leave you alone, but his eyes haven’t left me since you guys sat down.” He gestures with his arms open wide. “Like what you see? Want me to do a little spin for you?”

“Didn’t I kick your ass enough for one night?”

“You mean the tickle fight we had on the ice tonight?”

I stand. “I meant when I punched you so hard you went down like a toddler trying on skates for the first time. Would you like a play by play?”

“Kuli,” Grey warns.

“I don’t need one. It’s very vivid in my mind how fucking weak you are, Oli. No need for a refresher.” My eyes fix on the bump of his nose, and his own eyes narrow on me as I smirk. There’s so much satisfaction in knowing he has to look at his ugly mug every day and see the damage I did to it.

“Jesus,” Grey mutters, standing up and getting out of the booth.

“Hey,” he says to Andre. “Just trying to enjoy a night out. Alright? We’re fine.

Everything’s cool, okay?” Andre seems to loosen his shoulders a bit, backing away a step.

I feel rage, though. I can’t see past it.

It’s like a devilish shadow swirling in my brain and cutting off the parts that see sense and reason.

Andre puts his hands up. “Fine.”

I can’t help myself, I can’t. I’m so tired of this backstabbing arrogant prick. He has everything I should have had. Everything he has was handed to him, or he fucking stole it from me. “Good idea,” I say. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint your father any more than you already do.”

His back tenses, and he turns to me. “Goddammit, Oli,” Grey hisses.

Andre storms back, lunging for me. He strikes first and I block it, still wedged into this booth.

I grab him by the shoulders, trying to move him a little, and he swings.

I block, using my body weight to trip him up and slam him on top of the table, only faintly hearing the commotion around us—it’s as if I’m underwater and everything’s muffled.

I swing on him, connecting with his jaw.

Andre kicks me in the stomach, knocking the air out of me long enough to get off the table, and I spear him down, getting on top of him and punching wildly.

Andre dodges one, elbowing me in the jaw.

It knocks me back, stunned for a moment, allowing him to punch me in the stomach and knock the wind out of me.

I block a couple of hits, and he takes even more.

I see nothing but the man on top of me, punching. His fingers go around my throat.

Then he’s yanked off. I think I’m free until I feel someone wrench me upwards, twisting my arms behind my back.

Metal cuffs go around my wrists. Breathing heavily, I look to Grey, who’s looking so unimpressed.

And to Atlas—is that fucker filming? “Easy, big guy.” I hear the officer behind me as he walks me out of the bar.

I spot Vanessa on the way out. “Call the Otters’ stadium.

I’ll pay for any damage.” She relaxes a bit, nodding.

“I’m sorry.” I’m shoved outside. Red and blue lights up the area around us, but instead of putting me in a car the officer leans me against one.

I look up to see Andre being dragged outside.

He’s resisting a bit, but then deflates as the other officer props him up against his car.

Our eyes meet and I know the rage in his eyes matches my own. A metallic tang fills my mouth. I spit blood onto the ground, my eyes not leaving his. “Okay, fellas,” my officer says. “Are we pressing charges? ”

I watch Andre, waiting for him to say something, until finally he shakes his head. “What’s a couple of fists between friends?” He gives me a bloody smile. “For old time’s sake, huh Ol?”

“Fuck you.”

His officer sighs. “How about we leave the violence on the ice, okay, guys?”

“We don’t really want to arrest either of you. I think both of you could just be adults and go your separate ways, yeah?” I wait again, but I’m not sure why I’m waiting on him to go first.

Andre shakes his head, but when his eyes level on mine again most of the fight is gone, replaced with something else. Is that fear? “Rather not get arrested,” Andre says softly.

“Fine.”

I feel my cuffs unlatch. When the metal’s gone I rub my wrists. The adrenaline starts to wane, finally, and my side throbs. That fucker got me good. “Right, well, be on your way.”

“Opposite directions.” The other officer chuckles.

Grey and Atlas come out of the bar, and Andre’s hazel eyes lift to mine.

I almost think I see hurt in them . . . No, that’s dumb.

I didn’t hurt him; he destroyed me. He pulls his eyes from mine and finally walks away.

“You are one stupid asshole.” Grey shakes his head.

“I gave Vanessa my agent’s number. Told her we’d pay for any repairs needed. ”

While I appreciate that, I need to go back in and apologize. “You guys wait here.”

“No more fights!” Atlas yells after me. I raise my middle finger as I walk toward the bar.

Stepping inside, it’s quieter now, and I wince at the damage. Glass is littered everywhere. I gently grab the broom and dustpan out of Vanessa’s hands. “Let me.” She concedes before turning and coming back with paper towels and wiping down our table. “I’m sorry.”

“Men.” She shakes her head. “Can’t help yourselves.”

“Andre’s a dick.”

She sighs. “Andre is not a dick, you just hate him for whatever dumb reason you have.” I have plenty reason, but I’m too tired to defend myself.

She wipes down the table. No one outside of my friends would believe it because they see what he wants them to see.

What I used to see. Charisma wraps around Andre, his cocky attitude making him likable, but at the end of the day he’s still a dick who almost took everything from me.

I think about my mother, how she looked in her last weeks.

No, he did take everything from me.

“He’s an arrogant prick.”

Vanessa pauses, looking at me. “Do you think maybe that’s what you want to see?”

“What?”

She laughs softly, going back to cleaning up glass.

It’s now I see one of Atlas’s pina coladas smashed all over the table.

Shit, I guess I owe him one. “Let me ask you a personal question, Kuli. Can I call you Kuli? I think we’ve bonded.

” I laugh. “Do you feel the most alive when you’re fighting with him?

” My laughter screeches to a fucking halt.

“That’s what I thought. The moment you noticed he was here it’s like the high beams came on up here.

” She pats my head before finishing up, then stops in front of me.

“Why does he turn your light on, Kuli? That’s the question you need to ask yourself. ”

Okay, I do not like Vanessa one goddamn bit.

She has no clue what the fuck she’s talking about.

“He doesn’t turn my lights on. If anything he pops my breakers.

” I glower. She looks unimpressed, though .

. . maybe even a little sad. That light she sees is fucking fire burning within me every single time I think about that asshole.

How close we used to be. How he fucked me over in the worst way.

She grabs the dustpan from me, and I help her put the glass into the trash bag. “I’m sorry.” I reach into my pocket, taking out a few hundred and handing it to her. “If there’s more damage just let us know.”

“It’s only a few glasses. Really. Honestly gave my patrons a good show tonight.” She smiles warmly at me, patting my cheek. “Go back to your hotel. Get some sleep, okay?”

I nod, thanking her. Exhaustion pummels me suddenly. I’m ready to pass out. “Hey, Oli.” I turn around to face her. “Most people look away from the light, but maybe what you need is to look into it.”

Is she a fucking oracle? What the fuck . “Have you ever looked directly into a light, Vanessa? It’s fucking painful.” I roll my eyes.

“Sometimes the best things in life are.”