The King's Men (All for the Game, #3)

by Nora Sakavic

"I hate you," Andrew said casually. He took a last long drag from his cigarette and flicked it off the roof. "You were supposed to be a side effect of the drugs." "I'm not a hallucination," Neil said, nonplussed. "You are a pipe dream," Andrew said. "Go inside and leave me alone."

"Is your learning curve a horizontal line?" Andrew asked. "I told you yesterday to stop making my life difficult."

Andrew dug a fingernail into the hollow of Neil's throat until he had Neil's undivided attention. "Sit down and be still." Neil batted Andrew's hand away and turned back to the couch. Andrew claimed the middle cushion, so Neil eased into the open spot at his side.

Andrew hummed in response and put the knife away. "He will lose his taste when he has one in his gut," he said.

"Oh, to be young and filthy rich," Nicky said. "Must be nice." Allison considered her manicure with lofty boredom. "It is."

Neil unplugged his phone on the way out and Andrew wouldn't let him into the car until he powered it on.

"You say 'want' so freely," Andrew said, "when I have told you a thousand times before I want nothing." "Probably because you're spending all your energy on not wanting anything," Neil shot back.

"Just promise me this isn't going to be a problem." "What?" Neil asked. "I can't tell if you're being obtuse to fuck with me or if you're really that dumb,"

He got his shirt over his head and to his elbows before Andrew got tired of watching him struggle and tugged the shirt loose.

"You're not actually a sociopath, are you?" "I never said I was." "You let them say it about you," Neil said. "You could have corrected them." Andrew waved that off. "What people want to think of me is not my problem."

Andrew only waited long enough to hear the lock slide into place and started for the stairs. He had two cigarettes lit before he reached the second floor landing, and one he passed over his shoulder to Neil.

"So Andrew finally gave in, huh?" Roland said. "That looks pretty bad."

"The problem," Neil echoed, lost. "What hands-off rule?" Roland looked startled, then confused. "You don't know? But then..." "I got these in a fight," Neil said. "Why would Andrew do this to me?"

Luckily Kevin couldn't speak a word of German. Neil sat sideways in his chair, facing Andrew, and said, "Why does Roland think you're tying me down?"

"Presumably he thinks you're as bad at following directions as he is," Andrew said. "Roland knows I don't like being touched."

"I didn't think I was a personal problem. You hate me, remember?"

"Every inch of you," Andrew said. "That doesn't mean I wouldn't blow you." The world tilted a little bit sideways. Neil dug his shoes harder into the floor so he wouldn't fall over. "You like me." "I hate you," Andrew corrected him, but Neil barely heard him.

He thought of Andrew yielding to his prodding and holding him up when Neil needed him most. Andrew had called him interesting and dangerous and had given him keys to his house and car. He'd trusted Neil with Kevin because Kevin was important to both of them and he knew Neil wouldn't let him down.

"I am self-destructive, not stupid," Andrew said. "I know better."

You once told me you don't understand why a person would actively try to die, but here you are. I guess that was another lie." "I'm not trying to die," Neil said. "This is how I stay alive. When I'm playing, I feel like I have control over something. I feel like I have the power to change things. I feel more real out there than I do anywhere else.

"Because you don't have anything, do you?" Neil said in quiet challenge. "Nothing gets to you like that. Nothing gets under your skin." "He catches on at last," Andrew mused. "It only took

him a year." "What are you afraid of?" "Heights."

"Andrew, you can't be. What were you doing on the roof?"

"Feeling," Andrew said at last.

Kevin started to say something, but Andrew beat him to the punch with a calm, "Eight inches. He's only five-eleven." Neil and Kevin pivoted to stare at Andrew.

"You failed," Andrew said. "You should have been faster."

Andrew flicked his pack of cigarettes at Neil. "Give me one good reason to not push you off the side." Neil shook a stick out and lit it. "I'd drag you with me. It's a long way down."

"Good," Neil said at length. Tugging a sleeping dragon's tail sounded like a good way to die a painful death, but Neil would be dead before Andrew's protection wore off. "I want to see you lose control."

Neil feigned confusion as he got to his feet. "Am I bothering you?" "Beyond the telling." "Interesting," Neil said. "Last week you said nothing gets under your skin."

"Andrew refused on the grounds he wouldn't wish you on anyone except a mortician." "Drama queen," Neil muttered.

"Not as much as having them all here does," Neil said. "I'm not alone enough to get lost."

Andrew gazed at him in silence for what felt like an eternity, then propped his cigarette between his lips and motioned Neil closer. Neil was sure he was stepping forward into a knife for bringing Proust up again, but he obediently closed the short space between them. Andrew caught the back of Neil's neck in a bruising grip to keep him from retreating. He pulled Neil's head toward him and blew smoke in Neil's face.

"Ninety-one percent," Andrew said.

Andrew tipped his head to one side, considering that. "What would you take for it?" "What would you give me?" Neil asked. "Don't ask questions you already know the answer to."

Right near the corner was a picture Neil didn't recognize at all: a shot of Neil and Andrew standing alone. They were bundled up in their matching coats and staring

each other down barely a breath apart.

In May both Nathaniel and Neil would be gone, but in June this picture would still be here. He'd be a tiny part of the Foxhole Court for years to come.

He didn't remember pulling it from his pocket or making the decision to dial out. He lowered it and tapped a button, thinking maybe he'd imagined things, but Andrew's name was on his display and the timer put the call at almost a minute already.

Andrew's disinterest in his psychological well-being was what had drawn Neil to him in the first place: the realization that Andrew would never flinch away from whatever poison was eating Neil alive.

It was the most half-hearted invitation to come along that Neil had ever heard, but Neil didn't care. Andrew had turned around and come back for him without hesitation. That was more than enough reason to get up and go with him.

Running wasn't an option, he meant. Andrew knew why Neil had called him. "I'll stay."

He had two cigarettes out and lit before they were even outside.

The dealership had given him two keys for his new ride, and Andrew was giving the second one to Neil. When Neil took too long to take it from him, Andrew dropped it on the concrete between them.

But Coach gave me keys to the court, and you told me to stay. You gave me a key and called it home." Neil clenched his hand, imagining the bite of metal against his palm, and lifted his gaze to Andrew's face.

"Don't look at me like that. I am not your answer, and you sure as fuck aren't mine."

"You are a Fox. You are always going to be nothing." Andrew stubbed his cigarette out. "I hate you." "Nine percent of the time you don't." "Nine percent of the time I don't want to kill you. I always hate you."

Andrew kissed him like this was a fight with their lives on the line, like his world stopped and started with Neil's mouth. Neil's heart stuttered to a stop at the first hard press of lips against his and he reached up without thinking. His hand made it as far as Andrew's jaw before he remembered Andrew didn't like to be touched. Neil caught hold of Andrew's coat sleeve instead and knotted his fingers in the heavy wool.

"I won't be like them. I won't let you let me be."

Neil opened his mouth, closed it, and tried again. "The next time one of them says you're soulless I might have to fight them." "Ninety-two percent," Andrew said, "going on ninety-three."

"Hey," he said, but Andrew didn't look at him. "Thank you." "Go away before I push you off the side," Andrew said. "Do it. I'd drag you with me," Neil reminded him, and left Andrew to his thoughts.