Page 100 of Play The Game

And then he leaves with a deftness no man his size should have.

Ten minutes later, we’re all still sitting in the waiting room when Diarmuid shows up. He takes one look at me and collapses on a chair across from us.

“Liam?” he snarls.

I shake my head. “Matteo.”

He nods and unsheathes his favorite knife. Blaise tenses for a second but the Irish bastard pulls out a whetstone and begins to sharpen the blade. It’s an old habit, something he does when he’s plotting. I don’t know how we’re going to do it, but the Jackal just signed his own death warrant.

Five hours later they finally let us in to see him.

The overpowering smell of the disinfectant burns my nostrils and my chest tightens instantly. The beeping of the machines monitoring him just makes me want to scream and fucking chase Annabelle down, slamming a knife through her gut before Illi gets the chance. He has probably already taken care of it but fuck, I wish I would have fought a little harder to make the kill myself.

Blaise helps me climb onto the bed next to Harley as Ash lifts wires and tubes out of my way without unplugging anything. It’s a tight fit with how big he is, but I make it work. Avery sits in the chair by the window and watches me with vacant eyes.

It’s not until I cry that her soul seems to come back to her body. The tears start as silent streams of salty liquid, leaving tracks down my face. Then comes the sniffling until finally, my whole body is trembling at the force of the sobs I’m desperately keeping in.

I’m taking today.

I’m giving myself today to lie here with him and touch him and know that he’s alive. Tomorrow I’m going to start a war, I’ll call in every last favor until the blood pours like fucking rivers through the streets of Mounts Bay and every damn man, woman, and child knows to stay the fuck away from my family. But today is for Harley.

Hours pass like that, me crying into his chest, while the others all try to find some comfort on the cheap, spindly plastic chairs. Blaise eventually passes out on the floor, his jacket balled up under his head, and Ash sprawls out over four chairs with his head in Avery’s lap.

I am nothing but blind rage and gut-wrenching fear.

“I’ve never seen you cry before.” Avery looks absently out the window and strokes at Ash’s hair. I don’t speak, I can’t open my mouth without the sobs coming out messily, so she continues. “I’ve always known you liked them. I mean, you protect them all so fucking fiercely, it’s obvious it’s not just for my sake. I just… I didn’t realize you loved him like this.”

I take a minute to wipe my eyes and collect myself. It takes every last ounce of my strength I have left.

“I’ve never given anyone the power to break me. Harley is… on paper, he’s the worst choice for me. He’s a mobster’s son. He’s from the Bay. He’s lived in the world that has tried to kill me every fucking day of my life. He’s a killer; he has that darkness in him that every single man in my life so far has used to hurt me. Trying to get away from that life means he’s the worst option. But he’s… a part of me. It goes so far beyond having my heart. Hearts can be broken, torn out, fucking burned. Harley owns a part of my soul and, if he wanted to, he could destroy me in ways Matteo never fucking could. They all do, Aves. It’s why I couldn’t fucking choose in that bathroom back when you asked me because how do I choose between the parts of my soul?”

I lift my eyes to her and I feel the calm settle back over me. “Avery, I’m not going to take careful steps anymore. I’m going to wipe the fucking board clean until there isn’t a threat left. I’m going to take out the Jackal, the O’Cronins, Senior, fucking Morningstar himself if I have to. Every single one of them will die before I let this happen again.”

Avery’s eyes stay fixed on mine, unblinking and unflinching in her resolve. “I would watch the whole world burn to keep our family safe, Lips. I’m calling Atticus. I don’t forgive him and I don’t want him anymore, but I’ll use him until every last threat is gone. We’re done playing it safe and keeping the body count low. Whatever it takes, to the end.”

THIRTY-ONE

Harley doesn’t wake up for two awful, gut-wrenching, devastating days.

I don’t leave his side, only getting out of the bed when the nurses need me to, and Avery works her magic to have supplies brought to us.

Ash takes up watch by the door, as if he thinks the Jackal is going to come down here personally to finish Harley off. With every hour that passes, his frustration builds, compounding on his fury, until there’s no doubt left in my mind that he’s actually hoping the fucking sociopath will show up here just so he can kill him with his bare hands.

Blaise only lasts a few hours before he rigs up a stereo and starts singing the most ridiculous songs. When Avery snaps at him, he shrugs and says, “Quickest way to wake him up is to piss him off, and nothing pisses him off like my taste in music.”

I could cry all over again, but my tears have all dried up.

Now there’s nothing but rage left in me. Rage at the Jackal, rage at Annabelle, rage I didn’t kill her myself. Rage that he won’t wake up, that I didn’t listen to my gut, that he made me need him so desperately that this is all killing me. I need him, dammit. I fucking need him.

When he finally opens his eyes, Avery is busy fussing with his blankets while I’m cuddled up on his chest, counting every heartbeat just to be sure he hasn’t slipped away from us.

“Fuck, Harley! Lips, he’s awake!” Avery shrieks, and my neck damn near breaks as I snap upright to get a look at his bleary eyes, doped up and unfocused as he blinks at me.

He’s never looked fucking better to me.

Avery jabs at the call button for the nurse as I lie there just staring at him like an idiot because I can’t fucking move or think now he’s awake. God, I don’t even want to blink in case this moment shatters and I wake up to find him gone.

“What’s wrong, babe?” he mumbles, slurring a little, and I kiss him gently.