Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Robbie
Ican’t remember ever wanting to get a game over with before it’s started before. These street-wide games are one of the things I look forward to most, and this time playing them is going to be the last—so why do I wish it was done already?
Well, I know why.
Brandon.
No matter how much we hook up, no matter how much we say we’re in this for fun, it’s never enough.
His butt plug has become my wingman. Touching him is my obsession.
Whenever I’m supposed to be concentrating on something that isn’t him, my thoughts are overtaken, and I lose hours thinking about him, wishing we had more time together.
It’s cold out, but at least with the wool clothes on that Brandon got me for Christmas, I don’t feel like I’m about to lose a foot, and as soon as the siren sounds to get started, running will warm me up as well.
We only have to wait a few minutes until the Kappas let off a low, keening alarm, and it’s game on. Everyone scatters. We have one minute to disappear before the street becomes a Hunger Games arena, and I make like fucking Rambo as I bolt and throw myself into the bushes alongside our house.
Sometimes these games work better through teamwork; other times it’s every man for himself. The fewer people you’re around for Guard Duty, the less chance you have of being seen, and not only do I want to win, but I want to win fast.
The bushes run along the Sigma-Lambda boundary, then loop around the back of the property and reach the Deltas’ yard on the other side.
Everyone playing is in all white, partly as a terrible attempt to blend in with the snow, but mostly so when we’re hit with a water gun, the color shows up and the right house can be awarded.
Shooting people has never been so fun.
Especially since I’ve never been hit before, and I plan to keep my perfect record intact.
Normally I go straight for the Kappas’ house, but if I was them, I’d be expecting it and would have an ambush set up and waiting.
So tonight, I have my sights set on the Deltas.
They’re not usually one of the first targets because of where their house is set.
The houses either end of the street are usually hit first because of the corner blocks, but tonight, I’m throwing strategy out of the window and hoping that works for me.
The siren sounds again to let us know the one minute is up, and almost as soon as it cuts off, the unmistakable sound of mayhem breaks out.
There’s shouting and cheering, idiots hollering as they go head-to-head with the enemy.
Someone has clearly tried to go straight on the attack judging by the war cry, and I’m hoping it will distract whoever is guarding the back door at the Delta house.
I’m getting well experienced with back-door entry.
I snigger as I reach the side of the house and press myself against the wall, shuffling along so I’m not seen.
Before I come into view of the back porch, I grit my teeth and drop down onto the snow in an attempt to stay hidden.
I try to ignore the way my body instantly seizes up and wants to freeze as I shuffle along.
The Delta guy is on the back porch, staring out into the night.
The porch light is on but only reaches so far, so where I am should be mostly out of sight unless he senses movement in the shadows or he randomly shoots in the hopes of getting someone—like he does right now.
I watch the jet of water blast from the gun, catching light from the porch, and thank my frat forefathers that he chose to shoot in the opposite direction. I got lucky.
Before he can turn around, I jump up from my position, lift my gun, and take aim. My shot gets him right between the shoulder blades, leaving a large blue stain.
“Oh, shitty shit fuck.” His back arches against the freezing spray. “Fucking Robbie. That’s cold.”
“I iced it up special for you,” I taunt.
He flips me off.
“Where’s your totem?”
“As if I’m going to tell you that. Good luck finding it.”
He disappears back into the house to get changed, and I follow him. Now he’s out, he’s not allowed to interfere, but I know if I was in his position, I’d give my brothers the heads-up anyway.
I sneak into the house, gun raised, pretending I’m a police officer in a crime drama.
Theatrics for the win.
Every house only has two people guarding it, so I know there’s another Delta out front. I’m quiet as I check my phone for what I’m looking for—a rubber ducky—and sneak through the house.
If I was a rubber ducky, where would I be?
The bathroom is too obvious, but I poke my head inside on the way past anyway as I try to rack my brains for where else it could be. There’s nothing in the living room, and I can make out the Delta on the front porch while I’m in there, so I hurry through the room and into the kitchen.
Only, when I cross the threshold, I step on a loose board, and a creak goes through the house.
I freeze.
Hold my breath.
Ears strained for a sound.
I’ve just counted to three in my head when I hear the front door quietly click open.
Goddamn fuck damn.
I barrel across the room on my tiptoes, trying to stay as stealthy as possible, and head for the back door. If I leave though, this whole venture was pointless because walking away empty-handed feels a lot like failure.
So I take a risk, push open the door, and then slam it closed.
Footsteps sound in another part of the house, so I race back up the hall and throw myself into one of the ground-floor bedrooms and pray like fuck that I’m not caught.
My heart is pounding out a serious rhythm, blood rushing in my ears, and even though I’m low-key sick and need to pee over the idea of being caught, I wish Brandon could be here with me.
It’s not fair he has to miss out.
On a whim, I pull out my phone, press my finger to my lips, and snap a quick selfie to send to Brandon. Hopefully it’ll make him smile, at least.
Then I put my game face back on and strain my ears for any hint of movement.
After probably a minute or so, I pull out my phone again and text Chad.
Me:
You still in, brother?
Chad:
Who do you think you’re talking to? Do I look like a dumbass pledge?
Me:
My mistake
Chad:
What do you need?
Me:
Think you can cause a stir out the front of Delta house? I took out their back guard and got inside, but I think their front guard is in the house looking for me
Chad:
Wow. Amateurs. It’s like they want us to walk in the front door
Me:
Just get him out of here
Chad:
I got you
A minute later, I hear a series of tiny explosions and heavy footsteps thumping back through the house. I wait for the sound of the front door opening and closing, then sneak out of my hiding spot.
My adrenaline is running high, and I’m working to keep it in check as I glance into each bedroom as I pass. I loop back around to hit the kitchen from the non-noisy side, and when I’m checking out the space, I spot a flash of yellow inside the oven.
I carefully pull open the door and bingo.
I got the little ducker.
I’m out the back door, not caring when it slams behind me, before the front guard even knows what happened. Then I dive back into the bushes, run along the perimeter, and check our front lawn is empty before I make for the porch.
I toss the duck to Zeke.
“Damn, that might be a new record, Robbie.”
“Gotta get through this fast.” When my back is to Zeke, I send a wink Brandon’s way.
He’s watching on, bemused, wool hat covering his hair and ears, scarf almost pulled up over his mouth, but even though he’s half hidden, the heavy ba-dump in my chest has no chill.
I want to kiss him. Grab him. Be the one to keep him warm out here.
Even if I’m half freezing my ass off.
And if I’m already starting to feel like this around him, how the fuck do I show up for his family birthday thing and act like he means nothing? When I’m beginning to suspect he means so much more than that.
My phone vibrates in my fanny pack, and I quickly pull it out.
Chad:
I’m almost in at the Kappas, but there’s a group of them waiting along the side of the house where I can sneak in. I need something that will draw them all out
Damn, a whole group of them? That would require something big. Something that’s bound to break my perfect streak of never having been hit.
I could sacrifice myself easily, but we’ve only got one totem, so even if I did draw them out before they got me, that’s still only maybe two. Two isn’t enough of a lead when all it takes is for one of them to be stolen back.
I need armor. Or a tank.
I laugh, and then my stare falls on my car parked in the street. Well, actually …
“Zeke?”
“What’s up?”
“Doomsen needs me to fuck shit up so he can get into Kappa house. But I need Brandon.”
He shakes his head. “He’s needed here.”
“Okay.” I stuff my hands in my pockets as casually as I can. “I guess I’ll drive my car while trying to shoot out of the window. Totally safe, after all. In the snow? At night? What could go wrong? Definitely not something a risk manager needs to worry about.”
His attention flicks from me to Brandon and back to the dark street. “Do it.”
Fuck yes.
I text Chad back to be ready, grab my keys, and gesture for Brandon to follow me.
“Keys?” He holds out his hands.
I toss him the gun instead.
“What are you …”
“Tell me you have good aim.”
The smile that breaks across his face lights me up inside. “I’ve got this, Rob-dog.”
I crack up laughing, unlock the car, and we both jump in. “Quick, what’s the most dramatic song you can think of?”
“Ah … ‘Eye of the Tiger’?”
Yes. I find it in my phone, then switch on the car, link it to my sound system, and blast that fucker on loud. I’ll do anything for attention. And if this doesn’t score me massive mayhem points against Chad, I might as well pass him the crown.
“Let’s do this.”
The key to getting attention? Being as obnoxious as goddamn possible. I rev the engine before pulling into the street, headlights on high. Brandon cracks his window, and points his gun out of the gap, ready to take out whoever he needs to. The problem is, on the street, no one gives a fuck.
So I do what any frat brother trying to cause a distraction would do. I mount the gutter and take us through the front yards.
“Robbie …”
“I’m going slow, man.”
Brandon gives a nervous grimace. “Please don’t kill anyone.” He shoots suddenly. “And that’s one.”
“Game on, bitches.”
I steer us carefully through the snow, doing burnouts, blasting the horn, flashing the headlights over and over.
People from other houses converge on us to try and take Brandon out, but that bastard has perfect aim, and they drop like flies.
We reach Kappa house, and Brandon shoots the front guard before he has a clue what’s happening.
When none of the others show their ugly faces, I reach over and take his gun, then hand him one of my smaller ones.
“I’ll cover you.”
“You want me to go in?”
Before I can think it through, I lean over and press a quick kiss to his lips. “Watch out for the guy around back.”
He strips off his coat and scarf, then jumps out of the car as I put it in park and let down my window.
“Come out, Kappa bitches!” I shout. “The Rob-dog reckoning is here!” I hold down the horn long and shrill, sure I have everyone’s attention on the row. Whatever it takes to keep the focus off Brandon.
Charles watches him pass, unable to do anything to interfere except shout at me about rules.
Fuck him. There are no rules.
I shoot him for funsies and cut off every one of his protests with a blast of the horn.
Zeke will be hearing about this tomorrow.
Brandon’s gone for a few minutes before he comes thundering out at a dead bolt, clutching the goblet and throwing himself at the car. He’s reached the hood when Sam appears on their front porch and aims at him.
I throw open my door, line him up, and he swings his attention to me. We shoot at the same time, and I gasp as the freezing cold water hits my sweater.
Motherfucker.
The only good thing is I get him at the same time, so there’s nothing he or Charles can do as I slam the front door and jump into the back of the car.
Brandon glances back from the passenger seat. “What are you doing?”
“I’m out.” I show him the green stain on my front. “You’ll need to drive.”
He slides over the console, throws the car in drive, and we head back onto the road.
“Holy shit,” he says, out of breath. “That was crazy.”
He doesn’t stop smiling the whole way back, not even when he hands the goblet over to Zeke.
Zeke shakes his head at us. “Twenty bucks says Guard Duty will suddenly have a new rule by tomorrow.”
“I’d be disappointed in Charles if it didn’t.”
His gaze drops to my sweater. “Holy shit, you’re out?”
“Yup.”
“Streak’s over, then?”
“I guess so.” And I’m nowhere near as annoyed at that fact as I thought I would be. Because seeing the happiness radiating from Brandon made the whole thing totally worth it.