43
TATE
“No shit? You’re kidding, right?”
Arms crossed over my chest as I glare down at what’s-his-face from behind my Havoc, I grunt, “The fuck do you mean ‘we’re kidding’? Does it look like we’re fucking kidding?”
It’s Elijah, Tate, Scotty informs me through the always-open bond. And be nice. He’s the reason I’m alive, remember?
I grumble under my breath.
“No, we’re not kidding!” Tiger says excitedly, bouncing from foot to foot like a little kid.
“We don’t have to do Game 6! My scary-as-hell Bonded fixed everything and is gonna be empress of the world!
” he cheers, throwing his arms up and twirling around on the spot like he thinks he’s some sort of super impressive ballerina.
He’s not.
It took all day for that Exot in the Avri labs to fix our tablets, but he did it, and now they’re safely tucked away in our Bonded chambers.
Now, it’s the following morning, and after breakfast, we came straight here as we used to before all this shit went down.
We’re not training, but Scotty reminded us that we needed to let the other Players know the news about Final Battles, so currently, the seven remaining Exots and Evots outside of our group are gathered around us in a semicircle.
It feels like it’s been fucking forever since we were last in here with Havoc bossing me around and me struggling not to cum in my boxer briefs (That’s still a daily struggle, but that’s not the point.), and I wish we didn’t have so much shit to do so we could just train for fun.
But when I think about returning to that penthouse below Joseph’s, where a beautifully gagged and bound prickface awaits after we snatched his pathetically still-unconscious form up and tied him up in his own home last night, ready for mine and my baby’s combined punishment . . . Now that’s a turn-on.
Blinking in disbelief, the guy I know to be Iggy smooths a hand over his buzzed head. “Fuck . . .” Then his head shakes like he can’t wrap his head around the news. “How . . . ?”
“That will all be explained soon. I would rather not have to keep repeating myself,” Ezla says tonelessly.
She’s so fucking hot.
Love you to bits, Havoc, baby, I send down the bond as I lick my lips.
I shudder as she sends a dark caress back to me.
Iggy nods slowly in response to her words. “That’s fair.”
“So,” the one with whitish-blond hair starts, and I narrow my eyes at him because he’s staring far too much at my Bonded.
That’s Dex, Alby sends sound the bond, and it sounds a little nervous, as if he thinks I’m about to pummel the guy. And he’s with Jodine—the girl next to him.
Doesn’t mean he can’t secretly be lusting over my Havoc, I growl back, glaring Snowman Hair down.
When his eyes connect with mine, he eyes me warily, as he should, but the little fucking shit doesn’t back down.
That being said, the other little shit is gazing all dreamy-eyed up at my girl, too—Dex and Jodine’s Bonded.
He looks like an angry motherfucker, his facial expression included, but I know that look from myself considering I also seem to have a naturally pissed-off expression.
“Could you stop staring at me, man? It’s honestly making me a little uncomfortable,” Snowman says.
“Good,” I grunt. “You deserve to feel a lot more than uncomfortable for fantasising about mine and my brothers’ Bonded.”
His eyes widen, and his hands fly up beside his head. “The fuck? I wasn’t! I’ve got a girl.” Those arms lower as he wraps one around Jodine’s waist.
Grunting again, I pin my venomous glare on the kid next. “And what about him?” I spit, fists clenching.
The prick shrugs. “She’s really hot. I’ve always been impressed by you, Ezla.”
My blood boils to the point of evaporation.
Teeth gnashing, I step out from behind my girl, prepared to crush his tiny skull in the palm of my hand. “You little shit—”
Calm, my beast.
Havoc’s words in my mind stop me in my tracks.
As much as I love killing, we have much to do today, and I am exhausted already from the past couple of days.
I would like to save my energy for dealing with the Showmaster.
We may need him for a few more days, but you and I will be able to have our fun very soon, she tells me.
But I can feel her pleasure at my jealousy, and my chest puffs up with pride.
Even though he hasn’t heard the exchange, I send the baby Exot a smug smirk.
His eyes narrow.
Cooper. I hear Scotty’s voice in my head next. Please tell me you’re not also jealous.
He is? Huh. I hadn’t noticed that. Points to him. I’m starting to like him more and more by the day, even if he is still the first brother I’d choose to throttle if I had to pick one.
His words almost sound petulant as he replies, He’s a teenager clearly lusting after our girl, and their age difference isn’t extreme. Ezla’s eighteen; he must be sixteen or seventeen.
The flames of jealousy roar up even higher—
I can feel Havoc’s internal eye-roll. You are acting as though this means something. I assure you, I would love to kill Player 59 just as I would everyone else but you five. The assumption that I would consider him simply because of his age range is ludicrous.
Cooper huffs out loud. Jealousy doesn’t always have to be rational, HC—it’s just there.
Humming, she doesn’t reply to that, only declares for all to hear, “You should all kneel before me. I am your empress now.”
Scotty pinches the bridge of his nose. Love, I don’t think you can just tell people to—
Shut up, fuckface. Of course she can, I fire down the bond. Then to Ezla, You’re doing amazing, baby. Make their knees crack on the taalk.
Tiger and Alby both appear fascinated by the display, the former rubbing his hands together like a fucking supervillain who’s just thought up a juicy plan to take over the universe, while Cooper scrubs a hand over his face. I can’t tell whether he’s hiding a grimace or a laugh.
The gathered Players all blink at Havoc.
Jodine asks after a beat, “Wait, are you serious? Empress . . . ?”
“Do I look like I am joking?” Ezla says coolly.
Her mouth snaps shut, and she takes a healthy step back.
Now that’s more like it. That’s the reaction my Havoc deserves.
“I’ll kneel for you, Ezzy!” Tiger exclaims excitedly before plonking himself down and fluttering his lashes all over the place like usual.
The colour of a beetroot, Alby flies down, too, and I hiss, “Stop fucking doing it before me,” as I rush to follow.
Iggy’s brows shoot right up his forehead as Scotty follows a moment later. Cooper is slower than usual, likely because we’re in front of other people and he’s a prideful git sometimes, but he lowers after a beat too.
“Okay, I mean no disrespect,” Iggy starts, and I give him a furious warning glare, “and after what you’ve done for us, I definitely would kneel for you, Ez .
. . Empress?” After Havoc’s lazy hum of approval, he continues, “But I feel like we’d be intruding on a private moment.
So is it alright if I just . . . ?” He dips at the waist with an arm across his middle.
“Hmm . . .” I can feel Havoc as she debates through the bond, and my cock throbs at all the thrilling gory punishments that skip through her mind. “I suppose so,” she decides, then moves that cruel gaze of hers across the others slowly.
One by one, they all show her the respect she deserves.
“Thank you,” Player 55, one of Iggy’s bonded Exots, says as she dips her head. “I’m turning twenty-six soon, and I was worried I wouldn’t make it after avoiding the Games every other year.”
“You would not have,” Havoc informs her pitilessly. “I was planning to slaughter every single one of you. It was to be so much fun.”
She blinks, but I’m not sure if she’s brave or foolish as she smirks in the next second. “I’ve always liked you. You’ve been my idol for a long time, and this is exactly why.”
“That’s true.” The other Exot in Iggy’s group speaks through a snort. Pointing his thumb at Player 55, he tells us, “Louisiana hasn’t been able to shut up about you since I first met her in training before Game 1— Shit!”
Ezla watches impassively as Player 73 cups his junk that a pink-faced 55’s knee just said a very harsh hi to. The latter hisses at him with a vice-like grip on his arm, “I’m going to fucking kill you—”
“Oooooh, relationship drama,” Tiger stage-whispers.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Cooper grumbles under his breath as he rises to his feet, and Havoc glances over her shoulder at him as he places a hand on her back. “We’ve got shit to do, remember?”
Humming in agreement, she turns her back on the Evots and Exots and strides purposefully for the taalk double doors. Me and my brothers shoot up after her, Alby almost tripping over his feet in his haste. I yank him back upright while he squeaks out a tiny “thank you”.
“Remind me what’s next on our to-do list?” Scotty murmurs, his strides long as he tries to keep up with our Bonded along with the rest of us.
We will speak to Peter. The audience needs someone familiar to deliver all the news, she reminds us. This will aid in our smooth transition. After that, we will need to return to the penthouse—
Fuck no, Cooper seethes.
We will, Ezla snaps back. Did you forget that we must get rid of the bodies? And do not forget the sex tape.
Everything within me revolts, and a familiar overpowering nausea and wrath presses down on me.
A growl rumbles in my chest to mirror the turmoil in my brothers.
Grimacing, Cooper drags a hand through his hair as we turn a glossy black corner. Fuck.
Exactly. Now, we do not have to move the bodies ourselves, as this is not incriminating evidence—it aligns perfectly with out story—so do not worry about that. However, we must return for the tape and the others which Joseph implied he had.
We’re fucking idiots. We should have found them before—