He chuckles, nodding. “Yeah, but we’re damn good at convincing.” He grins and I too smile a little. “But I’m serious. He held off. He never holds off.” Beretta eyes me, waiting to see if I understand, but I don’t. “Jameson, he was anxious. You made him anxious, something he hadn’t felt in two years. He was damn near foaming at the mouth, that’s why we grabbed you. He had to feel you, to touch you in some way, right fucking then, but after that, he needed time to see what you were about, to see where your intrigue would lie.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if you wanted in on the game three punks play with pretty, willing rich girls, or if you wanted him.” Beretta’s hand glides down my jawline, and his lips curl tenderly. “Didn’t take long to figure it out.”

My chest aches and my mind is a mess as I try to comprehend what he’s telling me, to grasp the situation he’s trying to lay out for me.

Of him and them.

Of them and me.

Of us.

Oh my god, there is an us...

My skin prickles from my neck down to my toes, realization reaching beneath my ribs and clenching the thing in my chest tight.

Too tight.

This is too much.

I wasn’t supposed to... we weren’t meant to...

There is an us.

My eyes snap up to Beretta’s and slowly, I back away, setting my full, steaming drink on the small table as I pass it.

His brows crash, and he begins to shake his head, to beg me not to run, not to deny what’s so clearly understood.

He’s ready to slump over, to fall to his knees in defeat, for his friend.

But then I lift my hand, reaching for his and his tightly wrung face falls, and the hopeful look that fills his eyes is nearly heartbreaking.

Beretta doesn’t hesitate, he walks straight up to me, runs his fingers over my knuckles, and threads his with mine.

“That first time outside the club...”

Beretta nods, squeezing my hand, and suddenly so many things make sense.

That night wasn’t for Ransom. That was for me.

They did that, showed up and took me outside, led me into darkness and brought me out of my mind for me.

To help me escape.

To help me breathe when I felt like I was suffocating.

They were there for me and I didn’t even realize it.

I was never just a girl in a game to them.

They care.

Beretta looks toward the house, but he doesn’t lead us inside.

I do.

The game room seems farther away than ever, and once we reach it, I find them inside, as I figured they would be.