Chapter 2 #2
The game drags on. Trash talk, fake money getting tossed around, Switch getting wiped out and accusing Blade of conspiracy.
Blade is stealing brownies when he thinks no one’s looking and then immediately handing one to Bri when she gives him a look.
Ansley sneaks Bella cheesecake like bribes to stay alive in the game.
Everything feels right on the surface. Loud. Warm. Familiar. But underneath it all something’s wrong, because my Princess isn’t here, and I don’t like that some guy named Grant Whitaker is the reason.
Bri lands on Boardwalk and groans. “No. No, absolutely not.”
Blade grins slow and dangerous. “That’ll be two grand, sweetheart.”
“You are a menace,” She grumbles.
He leans in and kisses her temple. “Your menace.”
Switch laughs. “That’s what you get for trusting him.”
Bella claps her hands. “Okay, timeout. Everybody breathe before someone flips the table and wakes the baby. I swear to all that is holy if that happens, I will not be the one getting him back to sleep!”
Ansley stretches. “Snack break.”
“I second that,” Bri says, already pushing up. “Also, I need something cold to drink.”
Blade’s up instantly. “You sit. I’ll get it.”
“I can walk, caveman.”
“No,” he says, already moving. “You grew my kid all day. I got this.”
Bri puts her hands on her hips and glares at him. “Logan Jameson. If you don’t back down and let me into that kitchen, I won’t touch your dick for a week.”
The room freezes for half a beat. Switch winces. “Oh shit. She used your government name.” Everyone loses it. Laughter breaks out from every corner of the room.
Blade just smirks, slow and unapologetic, but he does step aside. “You know damn well you couldn’t stay away from my dick for a week, sweetheart.”
Bri’s mouth twitches like she’s fighting a smile. “Keep talking and you’ll find out.”
Blade lifts his hands in surrender. “Yes, ma’am.”
She breezes past him into the kitchen like she just won a small but deeply satisfying war. Bella and Ansley follow after her, their voices dropping just enough that I know damn well they’re about to have a whole conversation about us and definitely about Brooke.
Bri leans against the counter. “I just hope she’s having fun. She deserves that.”
“She does,” Bella says. “And I’m proud of her for actually saying yes to a date for once.”
Ansley grabs a cupcake. “Still wild that Brooke Calloway finally let a man shoot his shot.”
Bri snorts. “He must’ve been cute.”
“Apparently very cute,” Bella says. “She texted the group chat like she found a unicorn in a suit.”
I pretend not to hear a damn word, but I hear all of it.
Switch nudges Blade with his foot. “Smoke?”
Blade’s already on his feet. “Yeah.”
Switch looks at me. “You coming, or you gonna keep pretending you ain’t wound tight?”
I stand. “I ain’t wound up.”
“Sure, brother.”
We head out back, cool night air hitting after all that heat and noise. Switch lights up first, passes the lighter to Blade, then to me. I don’t smoke much, but tonight feels like one of those nights where it makes sense.
Switch pulls a small bottle from his pocket. “Stole this from the cabinet. Bella’s gonna raise hell.”
Blade unscrews the cap. “She’ll live.”
He pours into three mismatched shot glasses he somehow already had out here, hands one to me, one to Switch, and keeps one for himself. “We ain’t getting drunk,” Switch says. “Just taking the edge off.”
Blade snorts. “Speak for yourself.”
We knock them back.
“To game night not ending in bloodshed,” Switch says.
“To that,” I grunt.
The burn hits my throat and settles low in my chest, loosening the tight coil just a hair.
Switch leans back on the railing. “I don’t like that they didn’t tell us.”
Blade exhales smoke slowly. “I don’t like that she felt like she couldn’t.”
Neither do I.
“With the shit going on with the club lately,” Switch says, tipping his chair back, “I don’t trust coincidences.”
“Me neither,” Blade says. “And I don’t trust men who suddenly take interest in women connected to us.”
I keep my eyes on the yard. “She’s not a pawn.”
“No,” Switch agrees. “But that doesn’t mean someone won’t try to use her like one. You saw what they did with Bri.”
Blade’s jaw tightens. “That won’t happen again.”
Switch takes another shot and grimaces. “Jesus. That one hit hard.”
Blade smirks. “You good, Rev?”
I nod. “Just pissed.”
Blade doesn’t dance around it. “You care about her.”
I don’t answer. Don’t need to.
Switch snorts. “You’re not exactly subtle, brother.”
My jaw tightens. “She’s family.”
Blade gives me a look. The kind that calls bullshit without saying the word. “That’s not what I meant.”
I don’t argue it. Just say, “She deserves better than whatever mess I drag around with me.”
Switch shakes his head. “You really think you’re not good enough for her?”
I shrug, not wanting to have this conversation. “I know I’m not what she usually goes for.”
Blade exhales slowly. “Brooke doesn’t go for anybody. That’s the problem.”
Laughter spills from inside, loud and bright, and for half a second I almost forget why my shoulders are locked tight. Switch straightens. “We should head back in before they start plotting our murder.”
Blade crushes his cigarette under his boot. “Yeah.”
When we walk back in, Bella’s mid-story, hands flying. “So then Jax spits up on Switch’s cut and he’s like, ‘Is that normal?’”
“I thought the kid was broken,” Switch says.
Bri laughs so hard she snorts. “You did not.”
“I absolutely did.”
Ansley wipes tears from her eyes. “I love this damn family.”
Bella points at the board. “Okay, whose turn?”
“Mine,” Blade says. “And I’m about to buy another house.”
Bri groans. “I hate this game.”
Switch drops back onto the floor. “Should’ve married richer.”
Bella tosses a napkin at him. “You married me.”
“Exactly.”
We keep playing. Money shifts hands, alliances fall apart, fake threats start flying. Blade ends up owning half the board like the smug bastard he is, Switch is salty about every bad roll, and Bri is plotting revenge like this is actual warfare instead of cardboard and tiny plastic houses.
The buzz settles in after a while. I’m not drunk, just lighter around the edges, laughing easier than I probably should. It almost works, pretending the empty spot across the table doesn’t matter, pretending the one person I actually wanted to see tonight isn’t out somewhere with some other guy.