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)
“I am a Moreau,” Jean said.
“Yes,” Kevin agreed, “but you are not a Raven.”
“My place is at Evermore,” Jean said. “I’ve been ordered to play professionally and to give up my salary. Nowhere in there did he say I had to leave Edgar Allan. I won’t. I won’t.”
“You and I both know what Riko will do to you if you go back,” Kevin said. “He will kill you before he loses you to Ichirou. If he doesn’t do it himself, he will force his brother to when he cripples you on the court. You know it’s true even if you won’t say it.”
Kevin gave him a shake, but Jean stared past him and refused to acknowledge his words. Kevin dropped his free hand unerringly to Jean’s injured knee and gave it a hard pinch. He didn’t even wince when Jean lashed out, and Jean sullenly met his gaze at last. Kevin waited until he had Jean’s attention before saying, “You are a Moreau. You belong to the Moriyamas. But not those ones, not anymore.”
“Stop,” Jean warned him. “Do not say such things to me.”
Kevin ignored that. “You have a new master, and he ordered you to play for him. If you return to Edgar Allan, you do so in defiance of those orders. You do not have the right to refuse anything your master asks of you. Believe in that truth still if you believe in nothing else. It is the only thing that will keep you alive.” Kevin gave him a beat to see if he’d argue before saying, “You will spend this spring healing, and then we will find you a new team to play for. You will never be a Raven again.”
I am a Raven. If I am not a Raven, who am I?
Jean’s chest felt like it was tearing open. All the air had gone out of the room at some point. He clawed at his shirt, wondering how something so loose could be choking him. Kevin caught hold of his face with both hands, forcing Jean to look at him when Jean tried to turn away.
“Breathe,” Kevin said, from a thousand miles away.
Jean Moreau I am Jean Moreau I am Jean Moreau I am
“I’m going to throw up.”
Kevin had to let go of him to lean off the side of the bed, but he had the wastebasket up and in Jean’s bruised hands before Jean lost the fight with his stomach. Jean heaved so hard he felt blinded by it. Kevin said nothing about the smell or the noise but took the can back when Jean was done spitting sour mouthfuls into it. Jean’s captors made sure there was always water on the nightstand, so Kevin passed that over next. Jean sipped at it, wincing at the way it only made the taste worse.
Jean knew hints of what the main family was capable of, but Ichirou had always been a ghost story: a young man destined to inherit a bloody empire that spanned the eastern half of the United States and had a half-dozen links to Europe. As far as anyone could tell, he didn’t give two shits about Exy. He was a more terrifying master to follow in theory, but maybe he’d be content to sit on his throne and collect his tithes from a distance. Maybe Jean would never see a Moriyama in person again.
Moreau, Jean thought, a kneejerk reminder that had kept him from tipping off the side too many times over these last five years. I am a Moreau. I belong to the Moriyamas. I will endure.
But that was the sticking point, wasn’t it? His family’s debt had been to Kengo. The master stepped in and paid it off when he saw Jean’s talent on the court, but Jean was all he’d wanted from them. The Moreaus still answered to the main family. Jean, like Nathaniel, was simply returning to his original place in the Moriyama hierarchy.
“You don’t expect me to hinge my life on a loophole,” Jean said.
“You did this to yourself,” Kevin said. “Your refusal to ever name Riko as your master means you can’t even fall back on your mantra to save you.”
“I absolutely hate you,” Jean said. Kevin shrugged that off, unmoved by such a transparent lie. “I don’t trust this. The other shoe will drop sooner or later. It doesn’t matter how long it takes. As soon as there’s a way that won’t leave a trail, I’m finished.”
“Perhaps,” Kevin said, “but you have no choice but to see this through to the end.”
“You have a choice,” Jean insisted. “Kill me and let me be done with this.”
Kevin’s expression was forbidding. “You made me a promise.”
“Fuck you. You have no right to hold me to it.”
“But I will.” Kevin stared him down, and Jean hated, hated that he was the first to look away. Kevin at least had the good grace to not rub it in, and he slid toward the edge of the bed instead. “I have to get back to campus. If I’m late to my next class, they’ll file a complaint with Coach.”