Page 33 of Game On


Font Size:

10

Stella

Ipaced outside the study,ears strained for any sound of pain, but all I could hear were low male voices, too quiet for me to pick out the words. Having Theo here was a mistake. Possibly the second biggest one I’d ever made. Which was saying something, since the first had been so bad it had altered the entire trajectory of several people’s lives for the worse, including mine.

Finally, the study door cracked open, and Theo stepped out. Behind him, I caught sight of Blake, sitting in an armchair, clutching his side. His face was grim but resigned, like the fight had gone out of him.

“Blake,” I said.

He caught sight of me and nodded. “I’m okay.”

Theo pulled the door shut before I could ask if he was sure.

“I want to talk to my brother,” I said.

Theo slipped his arm around my waist. “He needs some time alone with his thoughts.”

“What did you say to him?” I demanded.

“That’s between me and your brother,” he answered, his voice laced with warning as he turned us toward the hall.

A squeeze at my waist punctuated the words, and I fought back a wave of nausea that had as much to do with his proximity as it did my gastritis. I wanted to wrench myself away from Theo and scrub my skin raw from his touch, but unfortunately that wasn’t an option. Someone could come around the corner at any second, and shoving him away didn’t exactly give “loved up” vibes.

God, he’d moved sofastwhen Blake tried to hit him. Too fast. I’d thought I was aware of the danger I was in, but that split second had driven home how precarious my safety was. Sure, I knew how to throw a punch, knew the basics of self-defense, but it was obvious Theo hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said I wouldtryto hit him, and if the past five minutes had taught me anything, it was that I’d never be able to keep him off me if he decided to do me harm.

My mind drifted back to that night in the tattoo parlor, him leaning close and telling me I was safe. Lie. I was far from safe, and suddenly so scared of being alone with him that I was desperate to rejoin the crowd of odious people outside. Since Theo seemed hell-bent on pulling off this little deception, I was hoping it meant he wasn’t a danger to me while we were around others. That there was safety in numbers.

New life goal: never be alone with him again.

Our footfalls echoed over the marble floor as we walked. The silence between us was stilted and awkward, but I wasn’t about to break it. I was too preoccupied with my swirling thoughts and my anger that he’d laid hands on my brother. I was also furious with myself. I’d done nothing to intervene. I’d just stood there, watching the altercation unfold. I tried to excuse my inaction as shock—the violence had come out of nowhere and caught me off guard—but the ugly truth was that I’d never faced a real threat before, and my instinct had been to curl up and hide to avoid becoming Theo’s next target.

Guess I wasn’t as tough as I thought.

This newfound knowledge made me want to cry, made me feel small and vulnerable in a way I hadn’t experienced in years, but I fought back the sting of tears because Irefusedto show any more weakness around this man. From now on, I’d play my part in public, but in private? He’d get nothing from me.

As we neared the mouth of the hall, Theo tightened his hold on my waist, leaning down just enough to whisper, “You’ve stiffened up again.”

“Gee, I wonder why?”

A tug on my waist, and I was spinning toward the wall just like Blake had a few moments ago. The difference was I ended up with my back to it, one of Theo’s hands on my hip, the other braced above my head as he loomed over me. I immediately flashed back to the driveway and the way he’d pulled me close against the side of his car. The feel of his lips sliding up my neck. The way my body had reacted to his touch. I’d never felt so betrayed by it before.

And I swear to God, if you react now, it will be outright war between us,I threatened. Thankfully, it seemed like my brain and vagina were finally back on the same page, and that page contained a single sentence: WehateTheo Strickland.

He and I stood in the shadows thrown by a marble column, and the light and darkness playing across his eyes made his irises look like a storm-ravaged sea. Again, I froze, feeling like a hare staring up at a circling hawk. Blake wasn’t small. He was nearly the same height as Theo and had played sports all his life, and yet Theo had manhandled him like a bear batting around a butterfly. Theo made violence look effortless, hadn’t even been breathing hard by the time it was over. I shuddered to think what he was capable of if he everreallyput his energy into harming someone.

He must have seen my thoughts playing across my face because he let out a low, frustrated sound and leaned closer. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Maybe he meant for the words to be reassuring, but all I heard was another warning. “I don’t want you to hurt me either.”

He dropped his hand to my chin and tilted my head up. “Then don’t make me, Stella.”

God, that was a fucked-up sentence. One I couldn’t even begin to form a coherent response to because my survival instincts were finally kicking in, and his words made me want to run yelling to Mom and Dad, tell them everything that had happened and deal with the fallout of another scandal because it seemed better than being around this man for one more second.

His grip tightened, sensing my inner rebellion. “This doesn’t have to be hard. We smile, we flirt, we mingle with other people, and you work your way out of your debt. The better you do, the faster you’ll get rid of me.”

Get rid of him. Now there was a thought that held real merit. Maybe I could go back to my original plan of ending this sonofabitch. That would solve all my problems, and judging by his sparkling personality, I doubted anyone would care if he suddenly went missing. Or slipped into a coma after a traumatic head wound. Better yet, died in a fiery explosion.

He smirked. “Contemplating my death again?”