For one wild second, I consider turning and running off into the night– cutting my losses, disappearing, letting them sort out their mess without me. But then I see the three of them up ahead, their shadows against the cold glow of the dorm windows, and I realize… if I’m not trying to run the game, I’m just another pawn.
So I force my body forward, following the Kings back home.
But I move a little more cautiously, making sure every step I take from here on out is deliberate.
CHAPTER 31
AVA
“I think they’re onto me,”I mumble.
Bryce freezes with his lighter halfway to his mouth, the tip of the joint just catching a whiff of lighter fluid before he lets the zippo snap shut. His eyes widen, the joint falling from his lips as they part. “Say what now?”
I curl in tighter on the spare bed in his dorm room, my knees tucked up under my chin, fingers clenched tight over my sweatshirt sleeves. “Last night,” I start, then frown because it’s not even technically last night, more like this morning. “After the fight, Ford said something.”
Bryce leans in, brows lifting in interest. “And?”
I avert my eyes, staring out the window at the glare of the sun off the snow. “He said if I’m playing a game, I better make sure it’s one I can win.”
“Holy shit,” he breathes. “He knows.”
A spike of panic stabs through my chest, sharp enough that I actually gasp. “But… do you think heknowsknows? Or is he just guessing?”
Bryce shrugs, slumping back in his desk chair with a creak. “Ford’s a freak, but he’s not psychic. I wouldn’t sweat it unless he gets weird. Or weirder, I guess.” He chews his lower lip, a motionso identical to my own nervous habit that for a moment I wonder if it’s contagious.
I groan, burying my face in my knees. “Maybe I should just cut my losses. Get out while I’m still…”Alive, I almost say, but that feels too dramatic, so I pivot. “Ahead.”
“Are you shitting me?” Bryce’s tone is half-amused, half-furious in a way only he can pull off. “You’re like… three moves from checkmate! If you bail now, what was the point of all the suffering? Of letting Ford tattoo a literal brand on your ass?”
I lift my head just enough to shoot him a glare. “That was not a consensual tattoo.”
Bryce waves it off. “You still rock it, though. And all your moves so far have been on point. You’ve got them eating out of your palm.” He eyes the joint in his lap wistfully, then picks it up and stuffs it in his hoodie with a sigh. “Seriously, you’re the most dangerous woman on campus right now.”
He says it like it’s a pep talk, but my chest just tightens more. “It’s not like I wanted to turn into a monster,” I mutter.
Bryce’s expression softens. He stands, crossing the room to me, then sits down on the bed, close but not crowding. “Listen to me, Aves. You’re not a monster. You’re playing the game because it’s the only way to survive it.” He pokes my arm with a finger. “And if you don’t stick the landing, they’ll chew you up and spit out your bones. You have to see it through.”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. Bryce’s logic is always so black and white. Life or death, winner or loser. In that way, he’s more like the Kings than he’d ever admit.
He seems to sense my downward spiral and abruptly stands up. “You know what we need?” He rifles through a pile of clean, expensive streetwear on his desk chair, then produces a comically oversized parka. “Vitamin D. And also caffeine. I swiped a bunch of cans of cold brew from the Bistro. Let’s walk.”
My first instinct is to refuse, because leaving the building means a potential collision with the enemy, but then I remember I haven’t eaten since last night and my head is starting to throb. “Fine,” I grumble.
I force myself to climb off the bed, shrugging on the ridiculous parka and following Bryce out of Sutton Hall.
Campus in November is ugly. The trees are all bare, the grass is half-mud, half-ice, and the piles of snow at the edges of the sidewalk are more gray than white. There’s a strange comfort to it though, like nobody’s trying to pretend it’s prettier than it is.
Bryce and I walk with our hands jammed into our pockets, heads down against the wind. He hands me a can of cold brew with a grin. “Cheers to surviving another week,” he says, bumping the rim of his can against mine before we both drink.
We walk in silence for a while, past the math building, the registrar’s office, and the path to the boathouse. Bryce does his best to steer us away from the main quad, and I know it’s because he’s trying to avoid the Kings’ usual haunts.
After a while, he says, “So. You ever thought about what happens when you win?”
I shake my head, unable to picture it. “I guess I always thought I’d be dead by then.”
He huffs a laugh. “That’s my morbid girl.”
I smile, but it doesn’t quite meet my eyes. “You think I could just be… normal, after? Just go to class and have lunch with you and never think about who’s watching?”
