38 #3
“Who wants alcohol?” Cooper makes his way over to the bar, glossing over Tate’s comment while I slide closer to Alby.
“You good?” I ask him with concern.
“Yeah. Just . . . ummm . . .” The tips of his ears redden, and he readjusts the raven strands of his hair self-consciously to try and hide them. “I’m just not exactly . . . uhh . . .”
I scrutinise him, studying his expression.
Before realising what he’s trying to say.
“You don’t have to undress, Alby. You could just dip your feet in—or you don’t have to go in at all.
But no one would judge you here. Besides, you may not believe me, but you’ve never had anything wrong with you, and you’re definitely not ugly, okay?
Not at the start of the Games, and not now.
But I’ll tell you now that I can definitely see the strength in your body in recent days, and that’s the honest truth.
You’ve done so well.” I add the last bit because I know he needs to hear that, and it is true, but even when he was thinner, nothing ever looked weird or unhealthy about him; he’s just naturally slimmer, and it pains me to know he’s been made to feel like that’s not okay.
We’ll help him get his vengeance for that one day. One day very soon.
“N-no! I mean—I want to! I just . . . yeah . . .”
“Seriously. No one cares what you look like, Alby. It doesn’t matter.”
His flush expands as he casts a nervous, inconspicuous glance over at Ezla, who’s still sat at the table even though she’s finished eating.
“Ah.” I smile a little in understanding.
“Don’t worry, you’re a total catch.” I jokingly wink at him but lower my voice with more seriousness as I continue, placing a hand on his shoulder and leaning closer.
“You’re a great guy, Alby, and if she can’t see that, that’s her loss.
But—and don’t tell Tate this because he’ll lose it—I think she might have a soft spot for you.
” And with some jealousy of my own that I suppress, I acknowledge that as the truth I know it to be.
But something tells me it has a lot less to do with favouritism and more to do with whatever is going on with Ezla. The secrets she keeps.
It’s hard to get a read on her, but, as proven earlier, I’ve not missed the way she hates any one of us appearing above her in any possible way, and I think it’s pretty obvious Alby is the smallest threat in her eyes, largely because of how submissive he is.
And whatever has caused her to be like this .
. . A chill slinks through me as I wonder who’s hurting her.
I’ve not forgotten Cooper’s observation, and I know my brothers haven’t either. And when I look at that luminous crimson scar . . . there’s just something about it . . . something bugging me that I can’t put my finger on . . .
“R-really?” Alby whispers, darting another glance over at Ezla, interrupting my train of thought—which I pin for another time, determined to get to the bottom of that.
I will protect my Bonded. Whether she likes it or not.
“Who else’s head has she be in, Alby? Tell me.”
“I . . . I’m not sure . . .”
“No one’s,” I answer for him. “Still no one’s.
The others would’ve mentioned something like that, either by bragging or at least a passing mention from Cooper.
She’s definitely not used the bond to speak to me.
I know that means something—she felt most comfortable with you. Clearly still does, I’d guess.”
His throat shifts with his swallow before he nods, a small, shy smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah . . . yeah, it’s made me feel really special . . .”
“And she called you by your name.”
Okay. It’s harder to keep the envy from my tone then.
He stiffens slightly.
“I’m sorry—”
“No!” he cuts me off hurriedly, hazel eyes huge. “No, I get it. I’ve felt . . . jealousy I never felt before Ezla. I know when . . . when you want someone—well, her—that it . . . it . . .”
Seeing he’s struggling to put his thoughts into words, I smile and nod to show him I understand what he’s trying to say, and, giving his shoulder a squeeze, I’m about to speak again when Tiger bellows, “Hurry up, you two!”
I look over my shoulder. “Coming!” Then back at Alby. “You joining us, then?”
With a shaky breath, he replies, “Yeah.”
Sneaking a glance at Ezla before I steer him to the steaming water, I find her now holding the stem of her champagne flute, staring off into space.
I hesitate.
I want her in there with us. I want to be with her, to hold her, to get to know more about the woman I’m quite certain I love, and yet who I barely know other than what’s on the surface.
But would she refuse?
I’m distracted when Alby starts to quiver like a leaf in a storm beside me while he undresses, my attention shifting back to him to ensure he doesn’t fall into a panic.
Fortunately, he’s fine, and soon we’re all stripped down and in the tub together, which actually isn’t as awkward as it may sound. In fact, it isn’t awkward at all.
My eyes catch on the luminous pink bubbling liquid in Cooper’s glass then as he takes a sip, and I narrow my stare at it when I find one in my brother’s hand too. “What the hell is that?”
“Buzal!” Tiger replies cheerily, almost sloshing the stuff over the rim of his glass as he raises it with enthusiasm.
“And what is that . . . ?”
“Dude, how’ve you not heard of it? It’s as common as champagne,” Cooper says.
“That glowing shit is common?”
“What’s wrong with glowing shit? We see Avri all the time.”
“Yeah, but that’s energy, not something meant for consumption.”
He counters, “Well, actually, we do consume Avri in tablets.”
“That’s not the point—I mean like food and drink.”
His shoulders lift unhelpfully.
I sigh, leaning my elbow on the edge of the tub and rubbing my temple, before dropping it, focusing on the relaxing feel of the water moving around me.
I momentarily wonder why there’s even a hot tub in the Headquarters—before remembering there’s rich people everywhere around here, and with the amount they make from TBG, the higher-ups could buy a thousand without making a dent in their bank accounts.
And it’s not like I’m complaining right now when this is close to paradise for my muscles.
We really needed this day off after so much hard work, the nonstop training.
As the others joke around—or more like Tiger pokes fun at Cooper until he indulges him, while Tate and Alby hardly make a sound—I notice their longing looks at Ezla, and I shift my focus over my shoulder, eyes finding her again, drawn to her like a moth to a flame, unable to resist temptation.
There she sits, so beautiful, so unbearably stunning, the faint olive tone in her fairer skin enhanced by the beige lighting above. A fist clenches around my heart, and not only because of her beauty.
But because she looks so lonely. So isolated.
Does she have anyone in her life other than us and her father?
I don’t even know what their relationship is like, and if it’s not good .
. . My stomach turns over. If it’s not good, she could very well have no one.
She probably won’t even allow herself to.
We’re right here, and she certainty doesn’t let us get within a foot of her unless she’s planning to floor us.
I watch with my heart pounding erratically, trying to crawl out of my chest and across the floor to her, as her gaze strays to us in the hot tub.
She doesn’t notice me watching her yet, which is only more proof to me that she’s not feeling great, as if she’s adrift somewhere in her own mind. And I could swear, though I wouldn’t dare to hope . . . that her eyes found us involuntarily . . . and that a hint of longing flashes through them.
Before it’s quashed.
Her face hardens, a mask stealing her from me. She stands without a word, legs moving efficiently to try to take her from the room, from us, with not so much as a goodbye.
Silence falls, thick and oppressive, my brother’s chipper voice dying a brutal death on his last exclamation.
My heart lodges itself in my throat, and before I can take a moment to think things through, I shove my voice past it, half rising from the heated water to call out, “WAIT!”
The quiet deepens, the air now stifling as the echo of my plea fades.
Ezla stills.
Every inch of me aware of where she stands with her back to the tub, halfway between us and the exit, I repeat at a more subdued volume, “Wait. Ezla, Love . . .” I swallow hard. “Stay.”
She doesn’t move a muscle. Not one little twitch.
“Please stay,” Alby whimpers, hardly audible.
But I know she heard it.
Ever so slowly, she turns around.
She’s as unreadable as always, expression absent of anything at all.
“Don’t leave us again, Ezzy,” Tiger whispers, voice unusually subdued, and my heart pinches for another reason entirely.
I know he cares for her, loves her, as much as I do, and it makes me fall even harder when I think about all the times Ezla’s been around Tiger when he’s at his most expressive and hyper, and not once did she make a nasty comment about it like so many before have.
Not once did she make him feel less than for his ADHD or treat him differently because of it.
It’s just one of the many things I adore about her, and one of the countless things that make her perfect for the both of us.
But I sometimes worry, have admittedly felt sparks of anger when she dismisses him so easily.
Because I know he’s affected the most deeply by her constant rejection, the cruelty that’s always a moment away from being unleashed on any one of us.
We all need her, and I just wish she’d give us the time of day, if not return our affections.
“Stay, Vengeance.” Cooper’s deep brown stare is intently locked on her, drilling into her as if he could will our Bonded to give in to us with his eyes alone.
“Please, Havoc.” Tate doesn’t make an effort to hide the vulnerability in the request.
It’s so, so still.