Page 48 of Twisted Little Game

The evening air is crisp, and the backyard of Onyx House is currently empty, other than us.

“I built the fire pit in the lawn here two years ago,” I tell him. “One of my favorite places in the house.”

I laid slate stone in a wide circle with a simple ring at the center that I keep stocked with firewood and kindling. Chairs and benches surround it, and Wes and Sev recently cut two old tree stumps to use as more seating around the pit.

I lean over and start to arrange the wood in the pit, getting ready to light the fire.

“Sit,” I tell him as he stands there watching me. “I can feel your eyes on every move I make.”

“Now you know how I feel,” he murmurs.

I get the fire started, and it catches slowly at first, then launches into orange flame.

I wait for Tate to take a seat first, and when he chooses one of the swinging benches, I step over and sit directly next to him.

His skin looks golden in the light of the fire, and I look over the smattering of freckles on his arm.

“Why are we out here?” he finally asks.

“Because it’s beautiful outside. And I told you, I’m going to give you your rules.”

He stares at me. “Yeah. And what the fuck does that mean?”

I reach over and grab the long, metal iron poker and rearrange a bit of the kindling under the flames. “You’re under my protection. You need to remain safe. I can’t be with you at all times, so when I’m not there, you need to follow my rules.”

I turn back to him. His cheekbones are prominent, illuminated from one side.

“Has anyone ever told you you have a giant fucking ego?” he says.

I bite the inside of my cheek. “Many times.”

“What rules do you think you’re going to get me to follow?”

“You will follow them. First rule. I need to know things that happen.”

“So the first rule is…”

“Call me if you ever see anything,” I tell him. “If you’re unsure if you’re being followed. If you see a strange man who looks at you wrong. If you get a note, a message, any threat. I don’t care if it’s a rock or a pebble or a fucking severed head. Do you understand, Tate?”

I’m surprised when he doesn’t bite back.

“I understand,” he says, nodding. “Shit. I forgot about the rock, after seeing two criminals get fucking killed.”

“I didn’t forget. We will look at it later. So you agree to rule 1?”

“I do. But would you do some heinous mafia shit to me if I didn't agree?”

I twist my mouth. “Do not say that word. That’s the second rule… I just decided it.”

He exhales. “Fine. What else does my brother pay you to spy on? Does he know you’re…”

He really hates it when he’s reminded that his brother paid me for this.

I need to set the record straight on that, too.

“Tate. Listen closely.”

“I’m listening.”