End Game (Bellevue Bullies 4)

Chapter One

Ryan

“Aren’twe a little old for a themed Halloween?”

I glance to the oldest of my cousins and shrug. “You tell that to them.”

We both look to my mom, my uncle, and my aunt as they snap pictures left and right, oohing and aahing over all of us. They act as if we’re all babies, instead of in our teen years—well, except me. I’m almost twenty-one. I don’t think they realize that, though. Or maybe they just don’t care.

I want to say I’m embarrassed by the fact that I’m standing in a full-on Gandalf getup as my sister and cousins follow the Lord of the Rings theme, but I’m not. I only act like I am since I’m the oldest. But I actually very much enjoy being Gandalf. He’s a cool dude, and who doesn’t love being the leader of a bunch of hobbits, a dwarf, an elf, and Aragorn?

My sister, Amelia, doesn’t seem pleased with her tights or her fake, long yellow hair that is braided to perfection. My girl cousins, Shelli and Posey, are still a little butt-hurt they had to be Frodo and Sam. I have to admit, it’s hard to keep a straight face when all I see is their hairy feet. Since they’re the thickest out of all of us, it only made sense they would be the stockier hobbits. The twins, Owen and Evan, are Pippin and Merry with really hilarious curly wigs. And the baby, Quinnie, he’s digging his large sword and heavy suit of armor with an over-the-top long mane of dark hair, which is different from his very clean style with his shaved head.

It’s easy to say my aunt and my mom go all out for Halloween. I think we’ve been doing matching Halloween costumes since Shelli was born. It was so long ago, but we’ve been everything. From Disney characters to Marvel to the Wizard of Oz, to even hockey teams. The Nashville Assassins, of course, since my aunt Elli owns the hometown team, and my uncle Shea is a local legend.

“I still say I should have been the Elven queen,” Amelia adds, and Shelli blows her bushy eyebrows out of her eyes before she scoffs.

“You mean Sméagol?”

Amelia smacks Shelli and glares. “I was talking about me, not you, asshole.”

“Language!” Aunt Elli hollers at us, and Amelia holds her hands out to her.

“She called me Sméagol!”

“You are the smallest out of us,” Posey says, making a face as she moves the pots and ladles that hang from her waist. “With freakishly long legs. You sure ain’t no damn Legolas. You should have been the dwarf.”

“Hey! I am a fabulous Legolas, thank you,” Amelia points out, her finger out in front of her and her eyes narrowed. “And these long legs got me a fantastic gymnastics scholarship to college.”

“No, really? I had no clue,” Posey snaps back, rolling her eyes while Amelia glares and Shelli snickers. “You only tell us daily about your amazing scholarship.”

“Every damn day,” Shelli complains, and I laugh.

“Jealous, much?” Amelia asks, and Shelli gives her a look.

“Please, we all know I’m the most successful out of all of us.”

“Oh, spare me,” Amelia throws back at her. “Look at me, I’m Shelli Adler, and my mom got me a part on Broadway. And by the way, I don’t get to go by myself. My mommy and daddy have to go because I’m only a baby.”

I have to say, Amelia’s impression of Shelli is spot-on.

“And I’m Amelia Justice, with weirdly long legs that make me look like Sméagol, who is going to college on a scholarship for gymnastics, when we all know I’m only going for the hot guys so I can get laid since my boyfriend left me.”

Damn, low blow. We all know Amelia is upset about her dumbass ex, but I have to give it to Shelli… Her impression was also pretty damn good. I could have gone without the mental image of my sister hooking up at the same college where I’m finishing my senior year.

“Shelli, your language! Your brothers!”

Shelli gives her mom an exasperated look. “Momma, they know what sex is. We aren’t in elementary school.”

The boys all nod, and Elli throws her hands up in a fit. Shea looks proud, while my mom looks two seconds from having a breakdown. Probably because the girls are all sticking their tongues out at each other like a bunch of babies, and the boys are getting restless. Which leaves me, stroking my long white beard as I inhale deeply. This is nothing new. This is actually mild considering the usual ruckus of getting all the Adler and Justice kids together.

When Quinnie looks up at me, his eyes full of the annoyance we’re all feeling, I send him a grin. “We’re almost done.”

“All they do is argue. Like, all the time.”

“And then some,” I add, and he looks away, sighing like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“Girls. It’s how they are,” Evan adds as his twin, Owen, nods. “Always complaining about something. Especially our girls. They’re dramatic.”

“All the time. Just wait till you’re in high school, Quinnie. Girls are nothing but trouble.”

The girls, for obvious reasons, don’t like that much. “Says the guy who couldn’t get a date if he was the last guy on earth,” Amelia snarls at Owen.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t even know what to do if a girl talked to you,” Posey adds, and Shelli nods.

“Loser.”

“Please, the ladies love me. I’m Owen Adler. I’m a legend.”

“And I’m Evan Adler. We’re basically the hottest guys in school.”

Oh, to be young and full of myself again.

Thankfully, they have an older and wiser cousin to knock them down a few pegs. Holding my hands up, I send the twins, who are more trouble than anyone ever in recorded history, a dry look. “Whoa, pump the brakes. We all know who the legend is.”

They all look up at me, and I can’t help but smile. I grew up very close with my five cousins and, of course, my sister. We are more like brothers and sisters than cousins. All part of the perks of growing up in the same town, only minutes from each other. Because of it, there isn’t a memory I have that my cousins aren’t involved in. We’re one huge family, and I love each of them for who they are. While they get on my nerves like younger and even older siblings do, they are mine and nothing could ever come between us.

Looking at each of their faces, I press my hand to my chest since my other hand is holding my pretty badass staff. “Me.”

With that statement comes the groans and the eye rolling, at least until my uncle Shea yells out, “Guys, look over here. We all know this is the last year we can do this.”

The last year.

That statement wipes the grin off my face. Caught up in the awesomeness of my beard, I had forgotten this would, in fact, be the last year. It’s my last year at Bellevue University, and hopefully, this is my year to be drafted. I haven’t had much luck the last three years, but surely this is my year. Everyone says it is, and I have to keep the faith. Since I’m going to be drafted, I won’t be home for next Halloween or most holidays. Also, Shelli will be in New York for a stint on Broadway she was lucky to snag, so she won’t be home next year either. Man, she’s crazy talented—hell, we all are. Posey and the boys all play hockey, pretty damn well, while Amelia is insanely good at gymnastics.

That’s why she got a full ride to Bellevue University to help start their new gymnastics program that’s just gone wheels up. She’s excited; we all are. I’m a little nervous for her to be around the guys at school, but then, she’s a tough girl, and I’ll be right there. I’ll kill anyone for her. Hell, for any of them.

But damn, I’m gonna miss this.

Wrapping my arm around Amelia and then Shelli, I pull them in as I grin at my mom, aunt, and uncle. The others take note and cuddle up as we all grin for pictures.

“Okay, let’s do an animated one!” Elli exclaims in her thick country accent I adore. I want to shake my head at her craziness, but then my mom joins in.

“Yes, like you guys are running!”

Shea rolls his eyes.

Thankfully, I hold back. I can’t speak for everyone else, though, and they’re already groaning and complaining.

“No, they’re good—”

Shea’s words trail off when he’s met with two very stern looks from the most amazing women in my life. My mom, she’s stellar. The best mom in the world, always there for me and always pushing me, but I’m also lucky enough to have an aunt who loves me as her own. While they both love with all their hearts, they are tough and don’t take shit from anyone. Which is why Amelia, Shelli, and Posey are as strong as they are. I think the phrase is “It takes a village to raise a child,” and let’s just say, the Adler/Justice village did a lot of raisin’ with us seven kids. Through the years, my uncle has become a smarter man; he doesn’t go up against his wife or his twin sister. Especially when they present a united front.

So it’s easy to say that I turn without prompting, lifting my staff into the air as I call out, “Go, you fools!”

My cousins and sister follow suit as our moms squeal out in delight, my uncle chuckling softly. That’s the last of the pictures, and the boys run off before anyone can stop them, ready to go trick-or-treating. Being the oldest, I’m taking them, but what the girls don’t know is that they’re coming too, especially since my mom is going. It’s better than her staying in the house, from what I’ve been told by Elli and Shea. I agree with them. I almost didn’t want to stay in the Bullies’ house this year, the hockey fraternity on campus, because I knew my mom was having a hard time, but she insisted. Especially since Amelia will be staying on campus too. Mom wanted me to keep an eye on her.

When all three of the girls pull out their phones to text or Instagram or whatever it is they do, I say, “We’re leaving in ten.”

They all glance to me, confused, as Amelia asks, “What?”

“We’re all going,” I say simply as I walk away, despite their arguments. I don’t care, though; we’re doing this as a family. From the look on my mom’s face, I think she needs this. Going to her, I wrap my arm around her shoulders as she uploads all the pictures of us to her Facebook. She leans into me, exhaling.

“You guys look amazing.”

I beam. “The handiwork of Elli Adler and Grace Justice.”

She looks away, but I don’t miss the wobble of her lip. It guts me. “I wish he were here to see this. The last year of you seven together as a group.”

My heart is heavy as I lean into her, my hand squeezing her bicep. “Me too, Mom, but it really isn’t the last year. We’ll do it again.”