The Game You Play (Rixon Raiders 2)

“Stop?” There was a wicked glint in his eye as he lifted his face to me. “You think you get to say when this stops?”

“I’m not going to play this game with you, not anymore.”

He was drunk, his words crueler than ever, his touch harsher.

“Game? You think this is a game? This isn’t a game; it’s bloodsport, baby. And you… you couldn’t have made it any easier if you’d tried.”

Tearing myself from his hold, I stepped back, my body hitting the wall. “G

et out,” I said, coldly. “Now.”

He blinked, confusion clouding his glassy eyes. “Feli—”

“Get. Out. Before I do something we’ll both regret.”

His heavy gaze lingered on me for a second before he staggered out of the bathroom, and I slumped against the wall, releasing the breath caught in my throat. Wondering how the hell I was ever going to survive Jason Ford.

Everything went back to normal after that. Whatever had happened between me and Jason in his car, was filed under ‘epic screw ups’, and I spent the weekend trying my best to forget our middle-of-the-night moment in the Ford-Raine bathroom. Of course, I didn’t breathe a word of it to Hailee.

It had hurt, a sharp pain splintering my chest, that he could go so quickly from kissing me, touching me, to being with Jenna. But it was just another reminder I needed to push all thoughts of Jason Ford out of my head.

At least, that was the plan.

“Felicity?”

“Huh?”

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Mom frowned. “I was calling you and you were completely zoned out.”

“Late night studying,” I said around a fake yawn. “You know how it is.”

“I know it’s senior year, baby, but I don’t want you making yourself ill. A good night’s sleep—”

“Makes for a healthy mind. Got it, Mom.”

“You know your grandma, God bless her soul, used to drill that into me every day.”

“I know, Mom.” Just the way you drill it into me.

“Senior year.” She slid a plate of pancakes toward me before helping herself to another mug of coffee. Apparently, once you were an adult, a healthy mind ran on a good night’s sleep and two coffees before eight. “It only seems like yesterday you were born.”

Silently groaning, I ate my breakfast while Mom took a trip down memory lane. By the time I was done, she was a little teary-eyed. “We’re so proud of you, Felicity, and to think you’re following in our footsteps.”

“Sure thing, Mom.” I regurgitated the same response whenever she brought up college.

“Although,” she went on, “I’m not sure how your father is going to cope. He barely slept when you were in New York.”

“It was one night,” I reminded her.

“I know, I know. But New York is just so...”

I filled the silence with adjectives. Big. Amazing. Inspiring. Alive. I should have known she would say, “Overwhelming.”

“I don’t know, I kind of liked it.” And it had absolutely nothing to do with giving a certain brooding Raider my v-card.

“Really?” Her nose scrunched up. “I found it to be so gaudy. Anyway, your father and I agreed, no more road trips until after graduation, young lady. I’m not sure his heart could take it, and you know Doctor Garrick said he needs to watch his blood pressure.”

“Mom, I don’t think my one-night stopover set off Dad’s blood pressure, I think his endless late nights at the office did.” He was rarely ever home and if he was, he brought his work with him.