Game Over Boys, page 43
“Because I know you, Maxim Wright.” I get up on my knees and shuffle toward him, fully and completely aware that my jacket and now my pants are dirtied and that everyone—especially Parrish and Chasm—will notice and deduce my activities.
“You’ve only known me for six months,” he says, but even he doesn’t sound convinced. That’s a true statement of fact, but it’s nowhere near the reality of the situation. I don’t even have to say anything; he knows what bullshit he’s spewing.
“Remember when you thought I was hiding Parrish from you? And then you changed your mind and said that because you thought I was a good person, it must be true. Well, I’m confident in my judgment of your character.” I poke him in his hard, firm chest, and even with the red wool jacket he’s wearing, I can feel his muscles. “You reconfirmed everything I thought by sleeping with me the other night.”
He looks askance at me, a bit of playboy alpha asshole in his face.
“Lifting you up and fucking you against the wall in your stepbrother’s room amounts to reconfirming my good character?” He sounds flirty as hell, but I’m not even sure he knows he’s doing it.
“Exactly. If you were in love with Maxine, you would not have slept with me.”
“Maybe I’m just a bastard, Kota? There are plenty of guys who would’ve taken advantage of both you and your sister that way.” He reaches up and combs his fingers through his hair again before he offers up a telltale sign by nibbling on his lower lip. Yep. See that? Anxious tic.
“Sure. Plenty of guys. But not you.” I crawl into his lap, straddle him, and put my hands on his shoulders, and he just lets me do it.
“How do you know when I started lying to you? You saw the video: Justin gave me a directive and I followed it.”
I groan and let my head fall back, digging my fingers into his shoulders in a way that I hope is painful as hell. And then I growl as I drop my chin back down to glare at him.
“Yeah, but like, Justin is an idiot who retcons his own storyline. Remember when you punched him in the face? He might be a good actor, but he didn’t fake that cold, angry detachment. That was a punishment aimed directly at your heart.” I’m feeling hot now, and I can’t decide if it’s because of my rage or because Maxx’s erection is grinding into me through our pants. I rock my hips, and he curses colorfully, an entire rainbow of sin. “Chew on this for a second: Justin was in that video with you, right? No way in freaking hell that he would’ve revealed himself to you before he introduced himself to Tess and me. So, obviously, that video was filmed later. Pure pageantry, X.” I sit back slightly and glare at him, pleased to see that his face is at least neutral now and not hostile. “Besides, even if I didn’t trust any of you boys as far as I could throw you, I trust my sister.”
Now that one hurts him. He turns away again and sighs so deeply that he may as well be signing his own death warrant. He totally knows something that I don’t. Something bad.
“Can we just pretend for the rest of the night that things are like they used to be?” he asks absently, but almost like he isn’t sure he should be asking the question at all. X laughs as he looks back at me. “Retconning, huh?”
“Justin totally retcons, and he thinks I don’t notice. But I’m a gamer first and maybe I’m also sort of, a little bit of a burgeoning writer, too, and I see it plain as day. When did you make that video, Maxx? Because it wasn’t at the beginning of our relationship.”
He settles his big hands on my hips, and it feels right. It feels like we were meant to be together, like that day in the coffee shop was fate screaming at the top of her lungs at the both of us. No matter how or why we came together—Maxine or Maxx’s parents or Justin—it was meant to be.
“Let’s not talk about that, okay? We’re not going to talk about any of that stuff.” X leans forward and kisses me, his tongue sliding into my mouth, capturing me in this slice of moonlight and forest and mushrooms and bell flowers. I want to stay here forever.
His hands begin to roam, and I begin to rock, and I’m pretty sure we’d have sex in the woods (again) if Chasm and Parrish didn’t come tromping through the trees to find us.
“Seriously? You’re finally giving in after all of that nonsense?” Parrish asks, planting his hands on his hips as he glares down at us. “Frankly, I was sort of excited to be rid of you both. In the end, Dakota will always be mine.”
“I’m not giving into anything,” X growls right back at him, but he must know the gig is up.
“It’d be nice if you just admitted it.” Chasm glares at his friend with a look of pure, love-filled frustration. “If we were all properly informed, it would help us help you, dipshit.”
X hefts me into his strong arms and stands up from the forest floor with me cradled to his chest like it’s no trouble at all. He doesn’t seem in any rush to put me down either. He keeps me tucked close, the rapid-fire sound of his heartbeat next to my ear. He’s nervous, even if he refuses to show it.
“Did you find the girl?” he asks, ignoring Chas’ statement entirely.
“Yeah, sure, we’ve got someone lined up. You ready?”
X nods and then (sadly) sets me on my feet.
Parrish leads the way back to the lodge, staring across the crowded courtyard at a girl with raven hair and a bright smile. She’s leaning in toward Antonio, whispering things in his ear.
“They hooked up sophomore year, and he’s stupid enough to believe that she’d actually want a second go-around with his prematurely ejaculating ass.” Chasm reaches into his pocket like he’s going for his cigarettes, and then curses. “Damn it, why did I choose a battle royale with a serial killer to go cold turkey?”
“Because you want to be able to kiss me more often,” I clarify, and Chas snorts.
“I suppose that’s motivation enough.” He nods his chin when the girl glances our way, and then she’s grabbing Antonio’s hand and leading him into the woods.
We circle around the courtyard and head in their direction. Doesn’t take long. Antonio is loud and honestly halfway to being drunk. Even better: teenagers with guns and alcohol. Also, also, these are not normal teenagers. These people wear ten-thousand-dollar dresses to pool parties with actual bartenders. Hollywood teens, that’s what they are.
“Couldn’t get enough of me, huh?” Antonio is asking, but the girl looks entirely disinterested, more like she’s annoyed at us for having to wait this long in the dark with such an aggravating asshole. “I’ve been told that once you go Antonio, you never get over the rodeo.”
Chasm snorts, and I giggle. Not because it’s funny, but because it’s so sad. Did he really just say such a horrific and cringey tagline?!
“How on earth does this guy ever get laid?” X mumbles, but Parrish doesn’t respond. He just walks into the clearing, looks Antonio over, and sighs.
“How drunk are you that you’d think that line would work on a girl? I imagine it dries them up like a California drought.”
“Don’t fucking diss on LA, man! I’m so tired of hearing you diss on my hometown!” Antonio is the one who swings on Parrish first. Meanwhile, the poor girl slinks away while she has the chance. It’s not a fair fight. Like Veronica, Antonio is too drunk to be much trouble.
“Antonio moved here from LA when he was six, and somehow he thinks that makes him a Beverly Hills resident for life.” Parrish moves easily out of Antonio’s way, reaching for the duffel bag near his feet. He hefts it up, unzips it, and peers inside as Antonio squints at him from across the clearing.
“Don’t touch my shit.” He’s slurring as he stumbles back over to Parrish, yanking the duffel bag from his hands.
“Where’s the gun?” Parrish asks, looking over at his classmate like he expects him to answer the question without complaint.
Antonio snorts, swaying where he stands as he lifts an accusatory finger in Parrish’s direction.
“I knew you were here to steal that gun.” He turns to me and smirks, reaching up a hand to smooth back his unruly brown hair. “My dad’s a smart guy; he knew Justin would try to get that gun back. It was owned by President Reagan, you know.”
“Actually, it belonged to Teddy Roosevelt,” I correct, looking Antonio over with a sigh. If I come home without that shotgun, I’m in big trouble. “Where is it?”
“Like I’d tell you,” he snarls, spitting at me. “Next time you think about insulting my sweater, maybe you’ll think twice.” With that devastatingly clever and unfailingly witty commentary, Antonio turns to go, and Maxx rolls his eyes, giving Chasm a look. They communicate a plan without words, moving up to grab Antonio by either arm. He’s dragged backward and thrown into a tree with Maxx’s arm at his throat. “You fucker …” Antonio chokes out, clawing at Maxx—rather unsuccessfully, I might add.
“Where is the gun, Antonio?” X asks, leaning in so close that the two boys could kiss if they were so inclined. But gross. Who could kiss someone with such poor fashion sense as Antonio Rossi?
“Screw—” Antonio doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, choking as Maxx presses harder against his throat. Chasm waits off to the side, crossing his arms as Parrish stands silently beside me.
“He might be a useless asshole, but he’s a strong asshole,” Parrish admits and X laughs.
“Keep insulting me, Pear-Pear, and you’ll see just how strong I am.” Maxx releases his arm just enough for Antonio to suck in a ragged breath. “If you don’t tell me where the gun is, I’ll strip you naked and drag you to the lake. Not only will I throw you in, but I’ll break your legs first.” X’s smile gets wicked sharp, and I feel my heart jump a little in my chest. I should not be getting turned-on by seeing him act cruel, but I guess there’s a little rebellious streak in me somewhere. Okay, fine, a big rebellious streak. I should rightfully give myself credit for backtalking a serial killer, right? “Based on our time in the locker room together, I know you’ve got a small dick. And that water?” X leans in even closer and lowers his voice to a menacing whisper. “Ice-fucking-cold. Everyone will see your shame when they fish your corpse from the water.”
“My dad has it, you asshole!” Antonio chokes out, and X releases him suddenly, letting him fall to his knees as he grips his throat. When the boy turns a glare on him, Maxx plants his booted foot on Antonio’s back. Damn. He really is ruthless, isn’t it?
“Where is your dad, Tony?” he asks, voice low and cold.
“I hate when you call me Tony, and you know it,” Antonio snarls back, but then Maxx is pressing him flat into the dirt and holding his struggling form down with little effort. “He’s a chaperone tonight! Fuck!”
X releases him suddenly and looks back at me.
“Is that enough?” he asks, and I nod, liking the pretense of control over this beast of a boy. We both know that Maxim Wright will do what Maxim Wright wants, when he wants, how he wants. Whatever he believes to be the most righteous path, he’ll walk it. Even if it hurts. Even if it kills.
“That’s enough,” I admit with a sigh. Of course a drunk Antonio was too easy of a target. “Is your dad back at the lodge?”
“Eat a dick, you ugly dog-faced bitch.” Antonio has the unfortunate sense to say this just as he stands up. It’s not much of a surprise when Maxx punches him square in the face and drops him like a sack of bricks.
Chasm kneels down to roll the guy over and make sure he’s okay. Then Antonio snores and we all sigh a little in relief. Well, except Maxx. Not sure if he cared or not if his former classmate was okay.
“Pretty sure I saw Antonio Senior at the lodge,” Chasm says as he rises to his feet, brushing dirt from the knees of his breeches. “But luring Antonio into the woods is one thing. His father isn’t going to be so easily tricked.”
“He’s the judge, right?” I ask and Chas nods. Hm. How am I supposed to steal a million-dollar shotgun from a judge? “Fantastic. Another question: why do rich dudes always give their eldest son their own name?”
“Excellent question,” Chas says, reaching back to pull the pins from my hair. It tumbles down on either side of my face as I blush. “Glad to have escaped that fate. And don’t worry about your hair: I’ll put it back up before you leave.”
Guess Maxx isn’t the only one who likes it. He is staring at me though, and then he reaches up to rub his jaw in such a way that I know he’s remembering the comment he made to me in the woods. “How am I supposed to pull it when I’m riding you?” Eep. Big talk.
“We might just need one of your elaborate plans, Gamer Girl,” Parrish drawls as he takes my hand and leads me in the direction of the lodge.
“We might just need the same plan.” Maxx walks quickly past us and disappears inside as we jog to catch up.
“Show off.” Chasm snorts as he unbuttons his jacket as well as the top two buttons of his shirt. I see tattoos. Yes, please. “God, I want a cigarette so fucking bad right now.”
“I’m proud of you.” I pat him on the shoulder, offering a pretty smile to go with the praise. It seems to work, and he runs his tongue over his lower lip. Wow. Yum. I slap myself in the forehead and Chas chuckles. “Alright, oppa,” I say, hoping to butter him up a little. “You know everybody in this town: tell us about the judge. Any weaknesses we can exploit?”
“He’s pretty buddy-buddy with everyone in Medina,” Chasm starts, mulling the thought over as we approach the lodge. Maxx pauses beside Gavin, ignoring the fact that the guy is sitting there with a dude kissing on his neck.
“Your jackass of a friend is drunk off his ass in the woods; deal with him.” X strides off and the rest of us follow. Gavin scowls at us as we go and makes absolutely zero move to assist his bestie. I prefer my boys’ bromantic relationships with each other.
Lo and behold, Judge Rossi is inside the lodge. I’m surprised we didn’t notice the shotgun before. Now that I’m looking for it, I see that he’s got it slung over his shoulder. Goddamn it. He’s even clutching the leather strap like a lifeline.
Mr. Volli notices us milling near the refreshments table and approaches with a smile on his face, lifting his drink in greeting.
“If you expect nothing from somebody you are never disappointed.” He pauses in front of us, sipping whatever it is that’s in his cup. Looks like water honestly. “Sylvia Plath, again. I know, I know, I’m obsessed but how could I not be? She stuck her head in an oven and committed suicide at the end. How dramatic. She’s a favorite.”
“I’m shocked,” Parrish murmurs, his lip curled as he stares at his former captor. I notice that he unconsciously raises his hand to his chest and rubs at his scars through his shirt. “What do you want?”
“I’m just here to keep you in line,” Mr. Volli replies easily, turning his attention to the crowd. “How’s the weapon acquisition coming along?” He laughs, as if he finds that question hilarious.
“It’s not coming at all; I’m not sure how I’m supposed to get a million-dollar shotgun away from a judge.” If I sound frustrated, it’s because I am. I was under the impression that Antonio was my target tonight, not his father. Mr. Volli seems to mull that over for a moment, glancing in Judge Rossi’s direction.
“What an entertaining conundrum,” he muses, turning back to us. “You’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out.” At that, he leaves us standing there so that he can go get a refill on his lemon-cucumber water.
“My brain hurts from trying to be clever,” I mutter in frustration, cracking my knuckles and sighing.
“Then stop trying so hard.” Maxx is watching Judge Rossi head toward the restrooms. Alone. “This is our chance.” He takes off without saying a thing about my hair, but I let it go. I didn’t know about Laurent. I’m assuming Parrish and Chasm do though.
“Did you guys know about his dad?” I ask, and they exchange looks before nodding.
“Laurent took off in the middle of the night without telling Hamilton anything.” Parrish raises both of his brows. “He had a bag packed, and he’s been texting, but something is obviously going on.”
Goddamn it.
I feel helpless all of a sudden, like there’s nothing I can do to stop this runaway train that we’re on. If even Tess knows about Justin, if the FBI knows, and they can’t do a damn thing, then maybe there’s nothing to be done but try again?
I think back to Saffron’s note in my windowsill; she’s our best hope at this point to kill Justin.
We follow Maxx to the restrooms, only to see him emerge with the gun—and with blood on his knuckles.
“Here.” He hands it over to me and strides past us as I gape, stumbling down the hall and reaching for the handle of the bathroom door. It won’t open; it’s locked. I keep the gun clutched in my hand as Chas chases his friend down, grabbing him by the shoulder and pushing him back against the wall.
“What did you just do?!” he hisses under his breath, teeth gritted, eyes darting nervously back in the direction of the bathrooms. “Did you just beat the fuck out of a judge?”
Maxx lifts his emerald eyes to Chasm’s amber ones. Parrish’s shine like tiger eye gems. It’s a treasure chest of pretty-eyed boys with cruel-streaked hearts and pure-perfect love. I can’t breathe. This night will have consequences. Big ones.
“I did what had to be done. Justin wanted Dakota to get the gun; she’s got the gun.” He shoves Chasm and heads for the back door, slipping outside. He’s not getting away that easily. We follow him, finding him at a bank of outdoor sinks. They’re made of stone with metal faucets that require a bit of cranking to get the water flowing.
X is washing the blood from his knuckles with a detached expression on his face that I don’t like.
“You’ve been acting weird as hell for weeks now,” Chasm snaps, slamming his hands down on the edge of the sink and leaning in to look at Maxx. Parrish stays back with me, lips pursed tight. “What is going on? There’s something you’ve been hiding. I knew from the very second you claimed to love Maxine that you were plotting behind our backs. It pisses me off. It makes me think you’re lying and scheming so that you’ll take the brunt of the hit, sacrifice yourself, whatever. So tell me. I want to know everything.”
