21
COOPER
She’s trying to kill us.
I know it, and so do the others.
Luckily, the Simulation Hexagon ensures the AI men can’t do any real damage, so other than some painful bruising, we’re all okay.
However, I do not appreciate being made to fight two levels above my usual.
Advanced I could have done with effort and concentration, but Expert? That’s just taking the piss.
I think back on the session with a grimace:
Alby being thrown from one end of the Hexagon to the other with a cry.
Scotty somehow maintaining his upright position while receiving as many hits as he’s giving.
Tiger being knocked to the ground and giving up at once with a cry for Ezla to “please save him!” as he rolls around on the taalk more like a kid would in snow than anything.
Ezla watching impassively with her arms folded over her chest, offering absolutely no input whatsoever.
So, yes. There’s no doubt in my mind that she wants us dead. She can call it “studying our fighting styles and techniques” all she wants, but that was pure torture.
Alby is the most banged up, and although I can’t see it with his Avri suit covering every inch of him, I can tell from the way he winces as he walks and how Tiger has a steadying arm around him and a concerned pout on his face.
To give him credit, he stayed in the Hexagon the full five minutes without complaint, even though he looked close to bawling.
Poor guy.
Tate, of course, is smug as can be as he walks along with us to our Bonded washroom; he seemed to get through the level with only minor difficulty and has a maximum of one bruise beneath his own suit.
His mood’s likely also so chipper since Ezla gave him a slight nod of approval for his performance, and he took that like it was the best praise he’s ever received.
Then again, with how Ezla is, that is high praise.
“She’s going to love me. She’ll love me so hard, she won’t be able to think about anything other than me.”
Frowning, I keep my mouth shut so as to not get beaten to a pulp like everyone else who gets in the way of Tate’s fantasies about the Champion does, keeping my eyes focused ahead as we near the door marked with a ‘14’.
“Of course she will. We’re going to woo her.” Tiger pats Tate’s shoulder, who snaps his head to the left to growl at the younger Gold brother menacingly.
Some of us aren’t as good at keeping their mouths shut as others.
Blocking out the argument that ensues but thankfully, by some miracle, doesn’t involve fists or Avri weapons as we enter the washroom, I let myself fall into my head, thinking about how I got here:
I’d planned to bond the least violent Exot I could find, but the problem is, they’re all violent.
And it was much harder than anticipated to bond when a good chunk of them were going straight for my vital organs, trying to kill me off the second they could.
Not to mention the many small groups who’d been helping each other avoid a bonding, leaving me on the defence, which was not helped by the fact I hadn’t paired up with any Evots to aid me; I’d considered looking for one to work with, but I didn’t like the idea of being stuck with any more people than necessary.
Not when there’s so few good people in this world who you can genuinely trust.
Even those closest to you can be the most detrimental.
A roar from Tate yanks me back to the present.
“SHE’S BEEN MINE FOR FIVE YEARS! I WON’T HAVE YOU TAKE HER FROM ME! THIS IS MY CHANCE TO BE WITH THE WOMAN I LOVE!”
A stunned silence follows.
Even I stare at him, blinking once.
To no one’s surprise, it’s Tiger who speaks first. “You . . . Five years?!”
“Love?” Scotty says incredulously a moment later. “Obsession I understand, but you don’t even know her.”
Tate’s eyes turn inhumanly murderous, and he takes a threatening step towards him.
“Say that again, and I will kill you. I do love her. And the better I get to know her, I’ll only love her more.
People like you would never understand,” he spits out the last part, fists white-knuckled like they’re begging to meet Scotty’s face as hard as they possibly can.
Scotty’s hands raise up in the universal gesture of defence beside his head. I don’t think he’s afraid of Tate, but he’s aware that the other man is both larger in size and with his Score. It would be stupid to get into a physical fight with him. “Okay, sure. You love her.”
Tate nods firmly.
“Okay . . .” Tiger’s voice has both Scotty’s warning look and mine trained on him this time. Not that he cares. “So you love her. I respect that. I get that. But—and I genuinely just want to understand—why does that mean we can’t pursue her too? We wouldn’t be taking her away from you.”
Despite not actually knowing how I feel about this particular topic that’s been brought up quite a few times now, I offer no words on the matter. I think it’s clear to me that I wouldn’t be opposed, and she’s . . . My temperature steadily rises as I picture my Bonded in my mind.
Yeah, she’s not bad to look at at all—from what I can actually see with her head always covered anyway.
But it’s not just that, and I’m not lying when I say it doesn’t matter what she looks like when she has this odd effect on me that she never had when I used to see her on TV. Before I met her, I’d watch with horror and mild disgust, honestly.
Before she killed my abusive brother.
After that, I didn’t know what to think; she’d made my life so much better, yet she carried out the same violence I hated so much, the same violence I experienced every single day. And I could tell she enjoyed it, too—even more than my sadistic brother did.
That was two years ago, and since then, I’ve had too many feelings on the matter to understand.
I hate violence, but I don’t hate her. Not at all.
In fact, I find myself drawn to her. It’s like I . . . recognise something in her. That brutality . . . the familiarity of the anger I sometimes catch a glimpse of through the bond . . .
I shake my head to try and clear it. There’s so much more to her than meets the eye.
And I intend to find out exactly what’s hidden beneath all that ruthlessness.
I focus back on the conversation as Tate answers roughly, “Because she’s mine.”
Tiger sighs dramatically. “You’re not thinking about this right! It’s like—it’s like if you and I shared an ice cream sundae!”
I look at him in disbelief at the comparison, as does everyone else.
Ezla is definitely not an ice cream sundae. She’s more like a . . . a hot-cinnamon-flavoured jelly bean—fiery as all hells but also sweet and delicious on the tongue, I’m sure, if I were to have a taste . . .
The crotch of my Avri suit tightens. Ah, fuck.
Yeah, I don’t hate her even a little bit.
Tiger continues, “So we both eat her.”
My eyes practically fall out of my head. Where the fuck is he going with this, and why is no one stopping him?
Let’s just ignore the fact I’m part of that no one.
“And she gets to keep us both! All of us! Like . . . I bet she’d be super satisfied! And that’s what you want most, right? You want her love? We can . . . we can get it together! Be a team! Like . . . like The Mystery Gang!”
Tate’s face is a mask of angry confusion. “Who’s The Mystery Gang?”
Scotty drags a hand down his face with a heavy exhale. “A group from a children’s TV show that was popular in the 20th and 21st centuries—Tiger likes a lot of movies and shit from around that time.”
“Wait . . .” I start with a frown. “Wasn’t one a dog? And two female?”
“I’m not being one of the girls.”
Tiger throws his hands up at Tate’s muttered words. “That’s not what I meant! I just meant—doesn’t Ezla deserve more than one man?”
Alby promptly turns back to the sink he’d been hovering by to splash water all over his bright pink face.
Grey eyes narrow. “I’m enough for her. She only needs me. I can give her everything she needs.”
“No you can’t! You can’t—you can’t fill all her holes at once!” Tiger blurts out, his own eyes wild as he desperately uses that . . . interesting reasoning.
Alby bursts into a coughing fit, choking on the water he’d just scooped into his mouth.
Scotty’s sporting a rare blush himself, unable to keep his composure.
I, for one, am simply struggling to pinpoint exactly what I’m feeling.
I imagine me and one of these men with Ezla, a blurry figure whose features I have no way of making out but who I know could be no one other than her with the way her presence fills the room and seeps into me.
Maybe Tiger is at her front, inside her pussy, and I’m filling that sweet ass of hers, both of us pounding into her, giving her what she needs.
Possibly, other hands are there to tweak her nipples, to tease her swollen little clit, making her moan—
“I could just buy dildos.” Tate’s voice interrupts my thoughts before they can get any more detailed, and I discreetly adjust my dick with a wince.
“It’s not the same,” Tiger insists vehemently.
The possessive brute actually looks like he’s considering this now. But the turmoil in his eyes is so strong, and his only response is a huff.
Tiger deflates, but I know I’m not the only one who recognises that Tate’s quiet is abnormal when he’s just been discussing the woman he’s dangerously obsessed with.
Bloody hell, is it actually a possibility we’ll all be sharing her?
Not that she’d ever approve, though. So I guess all this talk is pointless.
“I’m a virgin!”
I startle, stunned wide eyes zapping to Alby.
He slams his hands over his mouth, horrified at his impromptu exclamation.
Absolutely no sound meets the room. Then—
“Me too, Bestie!”
I blink.
“Same.”
That one has me pausing, brows meeting my hairline as I look over at Tate. “You’re a virgin?”
He scowls. “Something wrong with that?”
“No. I just didn’t expect it when you’re so . . .”
“Dirty?” Tiger suggests helpfully.
My shoulders lift in a shrug.
Tate appears extremely offended. “I only want Ezla.”
“What about before . . .”
He looks over at me, stare narrowed. “There was no one before.” Then he taps the side of his head. “No one wants someone fucked in the head.”
“That’s . . .”
“That’s nothing,” he scoffs. “I really don’t care. Don’t get your knickers in a twist about it. The only thing I’ve ever cared about is Ezla.”
He looks like he means every word.
“Are you a virgin?” he abruptly asks, eyes slitting again.
My brows come together. “Uh, no. Not that that concerns you.”
Why does he now look like he’s imagining what my head would look like on a stake?
“Then how can you be good for Ezla when you’ve already betrayed her by having sex with someone else?” he demands.
I splutter, both unable to believe his audacity and also struggling to defend myself, even though I know realistically that I shouldn’t have to.
“I’m not a virgin either.” Scotty saves me from having to come up with a response.
“And there’s nothing wrong with that. Besides .
. .” He hesitates to say his next words, the muscles in his face tensing like whatever he’s about to say will have an impact he’s wary of.
“We can help you take care of Ezla. If me and Cooper know what to do, we can make sure you're touching her right, in a way that’s the most pleasurable.”
Bloody hell, I can’t believe he just said that.
By the looks of it, neither can he.
We’re all getting in way too deep here, and I do nothing to try to stop it even though it’s a disaster waiting to happen.
Tate considers him, teeth digging into his bottom lip as his mind no doubt works through everything, all the pros and cons of the offer. He wets his lips. “You’ll help me? Teach me how to fuck my girl right?”
Scotty falters. He’s probably wondering how the hell he got to this point, rethinking every life decision up until now.
Honestly, so am I.
Finally, he takes a breath, draws himself up, and looks Tate right in the eye. “Yes. When the time comes, I’ll make sure you do everything right.”
When, not if. Hells, he’s committed.
And I’m . . .
What have I got myself into?