Page 258 of The Bonding Games: Part 1

But I do, because of her. And no one can tell me otherwise.

I see her. And she’ll see me.

A beautiful, murderous growl comes from within my girl’s helmet. “Would you like me to chop it off for you, then, Player 4?” she hisses.

“My name is Tate, my darling little Havoc—we’ve been through this.”

When I was chasing her earlier, I was trying my best to charm her.

I think it’s working.

“I do not give a shit what your name is,” she spits. “You will look the same as all the others when I dismember you and hang every one of your limbs up on my walls as trophies.”

It’s just a slow process.

But then I realise her true meaning:

“I knew you’d want me in your bedroom soon enough, baby.”

An Avri throwing star rushes at my neck.

Hardly swerving fast enough to avoid losing my head, I right myself to find my girl’s focus elsewhere again.

On those stupid. Fucking. Brothers and their little sidekick.

A dangerous sound rumbles through me.

I’ll gut them like the little piggies they are for stealing any part of her from me. She’s mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine—

Ezla’s hands tighten on her handlebars, her head dipping a fraction of an inch.

It’s such a small thing that no other would notice. But I do. I notice.

Something’s wrong with her.

I actually caught a sign earlier, too, so I’ve been looking out for any more to make sure my mind’s not playing tricks on me. She’s been phenomenal the entire Game, like usual . . . but not as phenomenal. It’s as if her head’s a little off and her body a little slower. And even though she’s still more skilled, more deadly, than any other Player right now, I’ll admit that, for the first time ever, I’ve been slightly worried what would happen if she was surrounded by a group of Evots with high Scores.

I think she might have been drugged before the Game.

I have no idea who’s done it, no idea who’d even be able to get close enough. But when I find out, I will break each and every bone in their body, one by one . . . I will peel their skin off, torturously slowly, to use for the string of the necklace I’ll make of them to put around my Havoc’s pretty little neck . . . I will—

Vroom!

Stiffening in an instant, my gaze snaps to the right.

Where an Evot with an emerald ‘17’ plastered across his chest has set his sights on my baby, and is speeding towards her with his intentions painted clearly across his face.

He’s going to try and bond Ezla.

Like a tidal wave, rage consumes me from head to toe.

Not.

Fucking.

Likely.

I charge at him head-on.