Page 42 of Twisted Play (Cruel Games #1)

“Were we supposed to leave you in the locker room, completely out of it, and just hope you got home okay?” Cole snapped right back.

“I want coffee, and I want breakfast,” she said, her chin tilted up with bravado. Relief swept through me—we hadn’t fucked up so bad last night she didn’t feel like she could speak up for herself.

“Why should I care what you want?” he asked.

“Cole,” I growled, a warning.

He looked at me, his head tilted as if carefully deliberating. He should have been. The fury coursing through me was unlike me, as was the sheer possessiveness when it came to Eva.

“Fine,” he agreed as he grabbed Eva’s bags from her shoulder and tossed them into the trunk.

“I—My wallet’s in there,” she grumbled.

“You don’t need it,” I snapped at her. “Now get in the fucking car.”

“Wow, Tristan, way to let me know your morning blow job was utterly ineffective at relieving your stress. Maybe it’s time to let me out of this deal, since I’m so fucking bad at it.”

Oh, that was fucking it.

I stormed over and caged her against the door to Cole’s car, my thighs between hers, my hands on the roof, our entire bodies pressed together.

She stared up at me, working so fucking hard to conceal the misery in her eyes.

I hated Cole for putting me in this position, because I did love it.

I loved how she trembled against me, how she’d cried last night when we forced her, and then how gloriously she’d come, the feeling of her hot mouth in the shower this morning?—

My cock stirred against her, and all the bravado went out of Eva in a woosh. I didn’t say a word, just looked down at her, trying to decide what I wanted.

I didn’t know. So I shoved myself away from her so I could fucking think. “Get in the car.”

Silently, she did as I commanded, slipping into the back seat. She clutched her stomach, folding in on herself, as if she could hide.

Cole slid into the driver’s seat, and I climbed in. “Sit in the middle so I can push the seat back,” I ordered, and I adjusted his fucking tiny car to fit my large frame. “Coffee,” I snapped again as Cole pulled out of the driveway.

When we pulled up to the drive through, Cole ordered, rattling off her coffee order like he’d memorized it, then graciously remained silent when I leaned over him to order egg and spinach wraps for all three of us.

“What if I don’t want an egg and spinach wrap?” Eva asked sullenly from the back seat. Brat.

I turned around to stare at her, her red curls wild around her face, no makeup, her full lips pinched—a far cry from the put together queen we usually saw running errands for Dr. Parker at practice. My heart melted, just a little bit, at her bravery.

You don’t have to be brave for me, Eva. Not that I would tell her that, not yet. First, I had to untangle this fucking mess with her and Cole and figure out what the fuck the bratva wanted with my team.

“You’ll eat what I give you,” I said.

“Don’t worry, sparrow,” Cole said as he paid with his black credit card. “Tristan’s a health nut. It might not be delicious, but it’ll be nourishing.”

“Spinach is gross,” she muttered, eyeing the wrap with disdain.

“Spinach is full of nutrients,” I said, maybe a little more sanctimoniously than I normally would have, but I was a mess inside. I was desperately trying not to take it out on either of them until I figured out what I wanted.

“Fuck this,” Cole muttered. “Eat it, and I’ll buy you a second breakfast after practice.”

Eva’s eyes widened in surprise. “Promise?”

“Christ, woman, yes, I promise.”

Eva’s phone buzzed. She looked at it then closed her eyes and leaned back against the seat, as if she couldn’t bear to look at us any longer.

She sat there for long moments, ignoring the wrap she’d set beside her on the bench seat and letting her coffee grow cold.

“I’m—I—I’m not selling information about the team,” she blurted out.

Cole snorted his disbelief.

“Well, I am,” she continued softly, staring at the cup of coffee in her hands.

“My father owes—” She stumbled and then continued, “My father owes the bratva a million dollars. And they’ll kill him if he doesn’t pay.

If I don’t pay. They’ll kill me if I tell anyone, but I guess that ship has sailed. ”

Holy shit.

“And they think the information you’re gathering is worth that?” Cole asked, disbelief in his voice.

“Yorkfield is going to go to the Frozen Four,” I said quietly. “Same as every year for the last decade, since Coach took over. Any edge on betting will make them tons of money.”

Jesus, Eva wasn’t dicking around so she could afford expensive coffees. She was trying to save her dirtbag father’s life.

“You really think they’d kill your father?” I asked her.

“Yes,” Eva said simply. “They already beat the shit out of him once.”

“That doesn’t change anything,” Cole snarled. “You’re spying on the team—selling our information to the bratva. And we’re complicit.”

My heart stopped. My scholarship. My NHL dreams. If she got caught and anyone found out I knew, I could lose everything. What the fuck was Cole thinking?

“That’s why I made the deal with you,” she snarled. “And I’m keeping up my end of it. You better fucking do the same.”

Cole smirked. “Are you, Eva? You still haven’t eaten the wrap.”

“Eating spinach is part of our deal?”

How could they be joking right now? Eva’s father’s life was in danger, she owed a million dollars, and I was watching my hockey dreams spiral down the drain.

“Tristan,” Cole said, his voice soft. He grabbed my hand and squeezed it, uncharacteristically gentle. “Our toy is refusing her breakfast because she doesn’t like spinach.”

The surprise of his touch, his comfort, was as effective at knocking me out of my spiraling panic as his reminder that Eva was in the car with us.

Eva.

Eva, whose pussy tasted like fucking sunshine, whose stunning curves had caught my attention the first day of practice, and now, I had her. If I wanted her. If I were willing to share her with my best friend. If I were willing to blackmail her with him.

My freshman year, Cole walked into the dorm room we shared, looked at how empty my side was, and promptly bought two of everything. When I called him on it, he sneered and told me to shut the fuck up—he was doing it for his comfort, not mine. And he never told anyone.

Same when I struggled to make rent in the hockey house our sophomore year—the year my brother bought my parents the ranch. Of course he’d have paid if I’d asked, but who wanted to be a burden?

Same when anyone on the team struggled. Cole quietly fixed it with his money and his contacts.

When Rami’s sister got sick last year, he called his father and got her into the best cancer ward in the state, even though the waiting list was miles long.

His father made him pay for that favor a hundred times over, but Cole did it anyway, even though he thought Rami was an arrogant jerk, even though Rami stopped talking to him after Cole’s DUI our sophomore year.

“This isn’t about you,” he said every fucking time, making it impossible for me, or anyone else, to thank him.

I squeezed Cole’s hand back. We’d find a way out of this mess. Together.

I looked at Eva, who watched us through the rearview mirror, her jaw set angrily. “I’m changing the deal,” I told her. “If you belong to us, we’re going to take care of you, and that means making sure you eat. Now, eat your fucking spinach.”

Eva’s lips opened in that “o” of surprise that was so fucking adorable.

“Kitten, don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Cole said, slamming his hands on the steering wheel. “If this turns into training a fucking pet instead of just getting my rocks off for stress relief, I am going to lose my mind. Eat, or I’ll take it out on your hide, Eva.”

Her eyes widened, and she grabbed the egg sandwich, now cool, and bit into it, wincing with every bite.

I wondered what it would take to get her to obey me with the same alacrity as she obeyed Cole. Guess we’d find out.