The Broken Puppet (The Elite King's Club 2)

I exhale. “I just… I… I guess we have a lot to talk about.”

“Yeah.” Nate smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I guess we sort of do.” He looks directly over my shoulder and grins. “Oh, come on.” I throw a glance over my shoulder to see Bishop flipping Nate off. He tugs on my arm and points to his car. “Get in.” Then he looks to Tatum. “You too!”

Tatum huffs and then stomps toward the car. Slipping my seat forward, I let her slide into the back before pushing it back into place and getting into the front. As I close the door, she whispers from behind me, “What do you think this is all about?”

“I don’t know,” I answer, watching Nate and Bishop talk. “I mean, I know some, but not a lot. At least not right now.” I close my mouth, thinking about the book. They know I still have it. Will the boys let me read it? Are they still going to hide information from me?

Yes. I don’t trust them at all. Though I’m probably dreaming, I’ve never gone down without a fight, so it’s my turn to start playing the dealer, and these boys are about to become my pawns.

Nate pulls open the driver-side door and slides in. “So where are we going?”

I shrug, watching as Bishop gets into the limo and it slowly pulls away. “Take me somewhere.”

Nate winks at me then puts the car in reverse until we’re skidding out in a cloud of smoke. “I know just the place.”

“WHY CAN’T I COME?” TATUM moans, stomping her foot just as she gets out of Nate’s car.

Nate points toward her front door. “Get your ass inside, woman! I’ll deal with you on Monday. At school!”

I whip my head toward him just as Tatum trots off in defeat. “School?” I squeak. “No. No. No. No!” I shake my head, leaning into my door. “No, fuck no, Nate!”

“Hey!” He grins, putting the car into first gear and driving forward. “Not my orders, sis.”

“Oh, okay!” I snap. “And whose orders are they? Because I swear to God, Nate, if you say Bishop, I will kill you. And don’t play with me, because I’ve seen enough death to not flinch if I need to put a bullet between your pretty little eyes.”

“I see you’re still a badass.”

“I see you’re still not very smart!” I quip, shuffling in my seat to face forward. There’s a long pause of awkward silence.

“Look, here’s the thing. I get that you’re all fucked up and broken and messed up in the head over all this shit that’s going on, sis, but this goes a lot deeper than you could even wrap your mind around.”

“Are you going to tell me what this is?” I ask, looking back at him.

He gives an instant “No.”

“Then fuck you. We’re done here.” I lean forward and hit the radio until The Game’s “It’s Okay” fills the silence. What does he mean orders? What—Bishop? Or has something else happened since I’ve been gone? My dad hasn’t reached out to me. Did he know Bishop would be after me? If what Bishop said is true, and if he really did know where I was all along, why did they never take the opportunity and get me? Nothing makes sense, as usual. Leaning my head on the cool window, I close my eyes and try to think of happier times.

“Madison! Don’t touch that!” my mother scolded me, hitting my hand away from the pretty blue frosting.

“Why? I’m hungry!” I demanded, reaching for the cake again.

“Because it’s not for you and you have to learn how to be patient.”

“But whose cake is it?” I asked, tilting my head. I always thought my mom was beautiful. She had long brown hair and kind hazel eyes. Dad said I got his eyes because mine are green, but I think I have some of my mom’s eyes too, because they twinkle in the sun.

“Madison.” My mom smiled, looking over my shoulder. “Honey.” Her hands came to my shoulder. “I want you to meet someone.”

“Okay, but who?” I wasn’t really a small girl. I mean, I was turning five soon. That wasn’t small anymore; that was old enough to start school.

“Madison!” Nate snaps me out of my haze. I turn to face him, swiping the tears off my cheeks.

“Yeah?”

“You okay?” he asks, looking between me and the road ahead of him.

“I’ll be fine.”

I won’t be fine.

Pulling up to our house, I turn in my seat to face Nate. Gazing into his eyes, I smile. “You know… I don’t like you boys much.”

His hand comes over his chest in mock insult. “Really?” he gasps, his eyes wide. “Who would have known?”

“Shut up.” I shove him. “You coming in?”

“I’ve just got to go handle something. I’ll be home a little later.”