Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 117363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
“He refused the FBI’s protection,” Kevin said. “They legalized his new name.”
“Just like that,” Jean said, too empty to know how to react.
“Jean.”
“If you tell me to follow his lead, I will cut your throat open with my teeth,” Jean said. “Go away and don’t come back.”
He half-expected an argument, but Kevin did as he was told and saw himself out. Jean watched the door close behind him. The silence that fell in the bedroom should have been a relief after the ignorant things Kevin had said to him, but Jean’s heartbeat was so loud in his ears he wanted to claw his own chest open. He put his hands over his ears instead and dug in until everything hurt, but the roaring in his ears sounded like Kevin’s voice: Walk away, walk away, walk away.
The Foxes weren’t going to let him leave in a few weeks. He knew it as surely as he knew his own name. The master would call once enough time had passed that Jean could risk traveling, and Wymack would argue against it. He’d fight to keep Jean here until summer practices started, at least, and the master would pretend to agree to throw off suspicion. Wymack had promised he’d burn the house down before he let the Ravens have Jean again, but maybe the master would beat him to the punch.
Jean had been burned before, but only with matches. Those tiny bites had hurt far more than they had any right to. He could only imagine what real fire would feel like if it caught hold of him.
“How long does it take?” he asked Wymack a few hours later, when the coach brought dinner by his room. “Getting burned alive. How long does it take to die?”
Wymack eyed him for an endless minute. “I’m happy to say I don’t know the answer to that question. Do I need to check you for a lighter?”
“No,” Jean said. “I just want you to remember that you did this to me.”
Wymack checked the room anyway, pulling up pillowcases and sheets, emptying the pockets on Jean’s borrowed clothes, and ransacking the nightstand. He sent Jean a long look when he came up empty, and Jean regarded him with a calm expression he knew wasn’t at all reassuring. Wymack didn’t waste his breath asking for answers they both knew he wouldn’t get, and he left Jean to his meal in peace.
Wymack wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight, but Jean might catch a bit of rest around his nightmares, so it still felt like a victory.
-
Victory was short-lived, because Kevin was back the next day. This time he brought Nathaniel and his pet goalkeeper with him. Nathaniel took up a perch on the edge of the mattress near Jean’s knee to survey Jean’s injuries with a serious look. Kevin went to the other side of the bed, arms folded so tight across his middle he looked like he was trying to squeeze himself out of existence. Jean knew how every shade of fear looked on Kevin’s face, or so he’d thought. This ghastly pallor was new, and Jean was pretty sure he did not want to know what put it there.
Looking at Kevin was still easier than facing Nathaniel, because there were burns where Nathaniel’s number should have been. After everything that fucking tattoo had cost Jean—he felt numb all over, then cold, and his stomach twisted so hard he was sure it ripped to pieces inside him. The urge to tear Nathaniel’s face open was so fierce he could barely breathe.
“Hello, Jean,” Nathaniel said.
“Go away,” Jean said, in a voice he barely recognized. “I have nothing to say to you.”
“But you’ll listen, because I just told Ichirou where you are.”
He’d misheard. He had to have misheard. In no universe would Ichirou Moriyama deign to speak to one of them. But Kevin was sagging down to sit on the mattress near his hip, and Nathaniel’s expression was grim but determined as he glanced back at Andrew’s impassive expression. Satisfied they were all paying attention, he turned back on Jean.
“My father got out of jail only to immediately get murdered,” Nathaniel said. “I spent an entire weekend locked up with the FBI trying to piece together his crimes and contacts for them. Ichirou respects my family name enough to come to me for answers in the aftermath. He said he was calculating the value of our existence, so I paid him in the only truths worth our lives.
“I told him Riko was a risk to the stability of his new empire and how his reckless violence against everyone in this room left too many trails. An athlete should not have that kind of push and pull, and if anyone started connecting the dots between our tragedies there’d be too many dangerous questions asked. It puts the Moriyama family in jeopardy, and a Wesninski of course cannot ally with such a person. I asked Ichirou to take me back into his fold.”