“You’re cheating.”
“Don’t be a sore loser, Cobra. It’s a bad look on you.”
He showed me his teeth. I showed mine in a grin. It felt good, beating him into the ground via video game, even if it did remind me of playing with Niall, my kid brother, and Mum yelling at us both to turn it off and go help her with tea. Memories hit me from too many angles, good and bad and full of grief, then there was the ever-present darkness trying to drown me. My head had gone under a few times, but I managed to claw myself back to the surface.
“Tell me how you’re doing it,” Cobra demanded, unaware that his tantrum pulled me from the mire of darkness and back to the present. “Are you using cheats?”
“Are you losing your sad little mind?” I drawled, watching him angrily bite into a slice of pizza, chewing more aggressively than he had any need to. I smirked.
“There’s got to be something,” he insisted, frowning at the paused screen. “That or you’re some kind of prodigy. Are you a professional?” he demanded suddenly, like it just occurred to him. “Are you a world fucking Mario Kart champion or some shit?”
“Three-time world cup winner,” I said with a straight face.
He stared at me for a moment, seemed to realise I was fucking with him, then snarled. “I fucking hate you.”
“The feeling’s mutual. You’re a nightmare to play against. I’ve never met a worse loser, and I used to game with my six-year-old brother.”
“Asshole,” he muttered, sinking back into the chair beside me and throwing a sulky glare my way. “So you have a brother. Any more family? You can borrow someone’s phone to call them if you know their numbers.”
I tried to swallow, but my throat was full of crushed glass. I shook my head, jaw clenched. Looked at the controller held so awkwardly in my bandaged hands. “Nah, no point. They’re all dead.”
Cobra said nothing for a long moment, then sighed. “Husband? Girlfriend? Anyone waiting for you to go home?”
“Nope.” I started another game, mashing the keys violently enough that my fingers protested, a flash of pain stealing my breath. “You?” I asked, mostly to redirect his focus, to get him talking about anything except me being alone in the world for the rest of my damned life.No children, ever.
“I’ve got a dad and sister. We’re close, but I don’t get to see them as often as I should since joining the Knights. This shit has a way of fucking you up and I don’t want them anywhere near it. No husband or girlfriend, though. I’m not relationship material.” A low, dangerous laugh. “You’ve met me. Do I strike you as the type to have dinner ready for when my spouse gets home, or go out on cute little café dates, or give loving massages and then wash my wife’s hair in the bath?”
“You have a very strange idea of a relationship, weirdo.”
“Aw, you picked out a cute nickname for me.” He batted his long lashes at me when I shot a glare his way.
“You really are a fucking nightmare.”
He snorted. “That’s a better nickname, asshole.”
I rolled my eyes, not quite able to get rid of the spiky pain in my chest. Even a bastard like Cobra had a loving family, but I would be alone forever. A fuckinghysterectomy. That glass pressed deeper into my throat.
I started a new game because it was easier than talking, than letting the darkness rise again. Cobra took the hint and grabbed his controller, determination pinching his brow, setting his mouth into a flat line. I was still going to destroy him, but I enjoyed watching him try so hard.
The slow-motion scowl he turned to give me when I won made me laugh. A real, deep laugh.
“You’re fucking annoying,” he grumbled. “But I guess you’re pretty fun to play with.”
You’re going to be so much fun to play with. Fight me, bitch. I’m going to enjoy breaking you.
I went cold all over, my face slack, no longer smiling. A cool sweat made me shiver, goosebumps scratching up and down my arms.
“The fuck you looking at?” I snapped when I noticed Cobra’s eyes on me, his head tilted as he contemplated me having a fucking breakdown.
I bared my teeth. He blinked, surprise furrowing his brow. “What just happened?”
“I got sick of your bullshit is what happened,” I shoved out of the chair, cursing myself for getting too comfortable. My skin crawled, itching all over. What the fuck was I thinking, sitting here spending time with a stranger? Not just any stranger, but a known psychopath with a reputation for torturing people. What was to stop him torturing me?
“I’m done here,” I said, shoving the chair towards him so there was an obstacle between us. “You’re a piece of shit; I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing here.”
“Gaming,” he drawled.
“Lapse of common sense,” I muttered, keeping him in my line of sight as I backed up towards the door. “Stay the fuck away from me.”
