
Brutal Game (Kings of Reina University #1)
Chapter 1
1
Aviva
“ A re you sure you want to do this?” Tovah, my best friend, partner in crime, and guide to the madness in front of us, asked. We stood, shoulder to shoulder, staring up at the big, ivy-covered colonial that housed the star players of Reina University’s hockey team.
Music blasted from the windows and the open front door, where students—excited about the start of the school year—spilled out, half naked, drunk, and laughing. They were squeezing out the last bit of summer. I envied them for a moment, the easy joy in their lives. They were happy to be at the hockey house. And why shouldn’t they be? They didn’t know about the darker side of the sport it represented.
I, however, did.
If I got my way, they’d know about its darker side sooner rather than later. And I was determined to get my way.
“We can call Plan B off. Plan A, too. Go back to our apartment and take off this fucking makeup and put on sweats and watch Ted Lasso ,” Tovah suggested.
And yeah, it sounded tempting to abandon my mission. But I owed it to my brother, Asher, to see this through. To get him justice. And that meant checking out my competition—and making inroads with the hockey players who might be allies.
I rubbed at the scar on my chest as I considered. The scar, hidden under a sleeveless crop top turtleneck, was a reminder of everything I’d lost, and why I was here.
For Asher.
“And you love Ted Lasso,” she added hopefully.
I tugged up my black skirt to cover my round stomach and tugged down my bike shorts, flipped back my curly brown hair, and squared my shoulders. I was what people politely referred to as “curvy,” “mid-size,” or “a bigger girl,” and I was mostly happy with it. Mostly comfortable in the size and shape of my body, with its rolls and curves and dimples and stretch marks. Mostly okay with having to wear bike shorts under skirts and dresses to avoid thigh chafe. Mostly invulnerable to the way fatphobic people judged my body—and me. Because fuck them.
Again, mostly . Sometimes it got to me. But not tonight. I had more important things to worry about, like my mission.
Spying on the hockey team to figure out who my “in” might be was risky. But I loved my brother. Hated how he’d retreated into himself, how he’d ripped the Wayne Gretsky poster off his bedroom wall. How he’d stopped caring if I brought home no-pulp orange juice by mistake. I’d risk anything to bring that crooked smile back to his face.
“We’re doing this,” I told her.
She sighed, linking arms with me. “You’re lucky I’m a good investigative journalist—and that I love you. Let’s do this.”
Together, we entered the house.
The party was in full swing: to the left, a group of girls were dancing on tables. To the right, a group of four students sat on the spiral stairs, passing a joint between them and laughing hysterically.
“Let’s go find the Core Four.” Tovah tugged me forward.
“The Core Four?” I asked, bemused.
“The four best hockey players at Reina. I don’t remember who nicknamed them that, but it stuck. And you’re about to see why.”
She led me through a sea of strangers my age who eyed me with a mix of curiosity and distrust. I didn’t blame them. I was new—a transfer student to Reina U as a senior—and therefore a complete unknown, when most of them had known each other for years. Moreover, they were right not to trust me.
As the saying went, I wasn’t here to make friends.
I was here to get justice for my brother.
Period.
We entered the kitchen, where four guys were holding court.
The Core Four.
I immediately picked up on why. Even surrounded by people, the four guys were intimidating, aloof. They towered over everyone else, and not just physically. I could feel their presence, even from the doorway.
Did any of them know about what had really happened to my brother? Did they care? Had they been hurt in the same way?
Tovah cleared her throat, bringing my attention back to her .
“Okay, so, the twins are Levi and Judah Wasserman. They’re both first line defensemen. The one with the glasses and the super serious look in his eyes? That’s Levi. Judah’s the one with the man bun; he thinks he and his hair are god’s gifts to women.” She rolled her eyes. “Separately, they’re like, the brain and the brawns. Together…” she shivered. “Well, obviously I’ve never experienced it, but I’ve heard through the grapevine that they like to share.”
I raised my eyebrows. “That’s new.”
Tovah shrugged. “Things at Reina U can get a little…wild. You’ll see.”
With that ominous statement, she turned her head, then scowled. “The curly-haired flirt with the dimples and smirk is Isaac Jones. He’s a player. Probably a talker in bed, so maybe he’s your in if Plan A fails…”
“Do you not like him?”
She shook her head, her curly hair—dyed purple this month—flying every which way. “I don’t anything him. He doesn’t matter.”
I raised an eyebrow, briefly distracted by her denial. “Maybe we should talk about why you feel that way.”
Tovah rolled her eyes. “Don’t therapize me right now, Dr. Gold. I swear, you’ve been doing it since we met.”
“Future Dr. Gold,” I corrected. Hopefully I would become Dr. Gold one day. When my parents died and Great Aunt Gladys took us in, she’d sent us to a psychologist for grief counseling. The psychologist, Abby, was kind and wise and patient with us, and the only reason Asher and I managed to grieve healthily and heal at all from the trauma of losing them. Ever since, I’d wanted to be a psychologist, and help other people the way she’d helped me. For now, all I could do was be there for Asher while he saw a real, licensed therapist .
“Whatever.” Tovah cleared her throat, her eyes catching on a tall, built guy with dark, straight hair. “And that , well, that’s Jack. He’s hockey captain, king of the Kings, king of everything, really. He’s not only scored the most goals for the Kings, he’s had the most assists in the league. The sports department at the Daily Queen nicknamed him ‘Jack Hat Trick Feldman.’ Everyone knows Jack. Everyone wants Jack, or at least wants to rub shoulders with him, in case some of his power will rub off. And in turn, Jack knows everything that happens on Reina’s campus, and controls everything, down to who deals Vice and Vixen.”
Confused, I opened my mouth to ask what Vice and Vixen were, but at that moment, the guy with dark hair—Jack—turned around.
His eyes, a dark, magnetic gray, locked on mine.
I swallowed, my mouth and throat suddenly dry. The room disappeared, the people disappeared, until it might as well have just been him and me, alone in space, no gravity, no nothing. The only thing keeping me from floating away was the heat of his gaze on mine.
I don’t know if you’ve ever been truly noticed by someone before. It’s…disconcerting, to say the least. It’s like your clothing, your makeup, your armor, the cover-up you religiously paint over your scar—all the ways you try to fade into the background …they just fall away. And suddenly there’s a spotlight on you.
I’d never had someone’s complete and undivided attention before. That it was the ‘king of the Kings’ made it especially disturbing, but I couldn’t stop watching him.
He looked and looked, and even though other people were trying to get his attention, he didn’t take his eyes off me. Like even if the house burned down, he’d still notice the slightest change to my expression. It made my breath leave my lungs, being noticed like that. Made me forget everyone and everything, including Asher, including my mission to get vengeance and take this whole fucking team and institution down.
Until all that was left was him.
Or would’ve been, because then the asshole winked at me.
Winked.
My own eyes narrowed, the room and the people and my mission reappearing around me with a pop of reality. If Jack “Hat Trick” Feldman knew everything that happened at Reina U, then he probably knew what his horrible coach had done to my brother.
A girl standing next to him whispered something in his ear, and he laughed, but he was still staring at me.
The asshole winked again.
I straightened my shoulders for the second time that night, determination filling me with steel.
Jack Feldman might be my way in.
But I doubted I could trust him. I wasn’t sure I could trust any of them. And that meant that whatever had just happened between us was completely meaningless.
If only my racing heart believed that.