“Thanks.” I didn’t deserve this guy or his faith in me. He seemed so certain that I could deal with whatever was coming my—our—way, and I wished I shared that attitude, wished my stomach wasn’t churning, wished we had more time. Jasper might believe, but I wasn’t so sure that doom wasn’t lurking right around the corner, waiting for us.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Jasper

“What are you doing here?” My Wednesday was already going haywire when George walked into the game store. I’d had an early morning class and now was helping Arthur because another employee had called in sick and there was a bunch of new merchandise to inventory before the weekend rush. I’d have to hurry to make it to the cosplay group on schedule, and I did not have time to deal with freaking George of all people.

“Now, is that any way to greet a paying customer?” He looked slick as always—expensive sneakers, pristine clothes despite slushy weather, perfectly arranged hair, and weaselly expression already in place.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “I thought Arthur banned you from the store.”

“Correction. He banned me from playing here. Not shopping. My money’s as good as anyone else’s, and I need some booster packs for a draft party I’m having tonight. Thought I had enough but it looks like I’m more popular than I anticipated.”

With anyone other than George, draft parties were super fun as everyone got a set number of card packs and raced to build decks with the cards they scored and then played each other for prizes and bragging rights.

“Planning to cheat more so-called friends out of premium cards?” I wasn’t going to bring up Milo by name, but I couldn’t resist a dig.

He made a scoffing noise. “You’re jealous that I’m a superior player.”

“Superior at cheating, sure.” I shrugged, no closer to retrieving the packs for him.

“I could go pro and you know it, Quigley.” His sneer transformed him from slick to slimy and no way could I let that stand.

“Prove it.” Slapping my hands on the counter, I stared him down.

“How?”

“Rumor has it you recently acquired Frog Court cards. Play me for them.” I could already hear Milo’s protest in my head, but I was too pissed to reconsider my brash proposition. Milo might hate the idea, yet I’d also bet he wouldn’t turn down the missing cards. I’d almost qualified to the finals at the Philly tournament. I could do this for him as well. Even simply thinking it had my shoulders lifting. I wanted to be the one to do this for him.