Player (A Secret Baby Sports Romance)(308)
I laugh, and even though the two most important people in my life are currently missing and locked up, there’s a feeling almost like a weight being lifted from my shoulders as I look at her and realize there’s someone else to share all this with; “Alright, let’s do this.”
She smiles, and for once, it’s not that needling smirk; “Excellent. Think we can work together to figure out a way to get your boys out of there now?”
I grin; “I believe we can.”
“Good, let’s get to work then, because I haven’t the slightest idea how to get us in there, especially now that my cover is blown.”
I frown as I look down and smooth out the map of the area strewn across the table between us. My eyes narrow on the monastery where everything I hold dear in this world is locked away, and I can feel the heat rising inside. But suddenly, my eyes move over the faded paper, down to a familiar looking name on the map not far away.
The idea that hits me suddenly is insane, but this woman sitting across from me just might be crazy enough to get on board with it.
“What?” She says, furrowing her brow at the wild look in my eyes.
“What do you know about driving a diesel stick shift?”
She grins, clasping her hands together; “Ooo, I knew I was going to like you.”
27
Bryce
“Take a hit.”
“I’m clean now.”
The laugh, the same laugh that’s in every dream; “The fuck you are. Take the fucking hit, Connors.”
The laughing skull holds up a disembodied hand, the needle primed and ready. A single drop of cloudy-white bliss bleeds from the tip, and I can feel every single atom in my body craving it at the same time, like this screaming chorus of NOW.
“I’m clean.”
The skull starts to laugh; louder and louder, it’s mouth opening wider and wider until the fracture lines start to etch their way across it’s jaw; “Take the hit, Connors!”
The skull is screaming now, cracking and fissuring under the strain of it’s own demonic laugh.
I’m scared now, my mouth dry and my head pounding as I try and move away. But of course, I can’t; same as every night. My feet won’t move, or won’t let me move, and the skull gets bigger, it’s jaw wider as the screaming laughter hits a fever note ringing in my ears.
“TAKE THE HIT, CONNORS!”
I’m screaming then, as the skull’s cracking jaw roars wide and just fucking explodes into a million stinging white, bone-dust pieces.
I’m awake with a start. The skull is gone, but the pounding in my head is still there, along with the grimy dryness in my mouth.
Fuck, and here I was thinking it’d been awhile since I had that dream.
I blink awake, moving to stand before realizing I’m stuck to the chair I’m currently sitting in; my arms and legs bound to it. And then it all comes rushing back to me in this sickening wave. Peyton, Benson, the needle, the threat; all of it.
“Hell of rescue, bud.”
I freeze at the sudden voice in the darkness of the room, not quite trusting that I’m not still dreaming; “Logan?”
The room is barely lighter than pure darkness, but I’m peering into it, turning my head and trying to decipher where his voice came from.
“Behind you; don’t worry, I can’t turn either.”
“Jesus, Logan, are you-”
“I’m fine, man.” He laughs; “I think one of the dudes broke a hand trying to ‘work me over’ the other day.” I can hear his deep laugh, and then a clearing of his throat before he spits; “Fuck ‘em. Anyways, hey, tell me you smuggled a gun or a key or a something up your ass before you got tossed in here so we can get ourselves out.”
I wrinkle my nose in the darkness; “Jesus, Logan-”
“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” He starts to chuckle; “But c’mon, you've done that right?”
“Dude, what?”
“Smuggling, you know, up your-”
“Are we seriously going to talk about this right now?”
Logan snorts; “Just making conversation.”
“That bored in here, huh?”
He laughs; “You’re the first person I’ve talked to since my jaw broke that guy’s hand like four days ago. What took you so long, by the way?”
I grin, shaking my head. We might be stuck in this hopeless situation, but damn did I miss this guy.
“And tell me the plan was more than just you; I mean, no offense.”
“Yeah, none taken. They got me, but Peyton-”
“What about Peyton?” His voice is very quickly utterly devoid of his joking tone from before.
Fuck.
I freeze for a moment; “I mean she got away.”