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

by Nora Sakavic

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

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.

Andrew took the cigarette from his unresisting fingers and stuck it between his lips. It had nearly burnt out with no breath to keep it alive, but Andrew coaxed the flame back to life with a long drag. "That was mine," Neil said. "Oh," Andrew said, unconcerned.

"Truth is irrefutable and untainted by bias. Sunrise, Abram, death: these are truths.

"Need anything else?" "A clear shot at Riko and no witnesses," Neil said. Matt grinned like he thought Neil was joking

"Because I made you a promise," Andrew said. "I did not forget it just because you chose not to believe me. I did what I said I would do, and fuck you for expecting anything else."

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. It was comforting, or it should be. Neil didn't think comfort should feel like such a sick knot in his stomach.

"I'm fine,"

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.

"A man can only have so many issues," Andrew said. "It is just a key." "You're a foster child. You know it isn't," Neil said.

"It's always been 'lie' and 'hide' and 'disappear'. I've never belonged anywhere or had the right to call anything my own. But Coach gave me keys to the court, and you told me to stay. You gave me a key and called it home."

I am not your answer, and you sure as fuck aren't mine."

"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." "Every time you say that I believe you a little less." "No one asked 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."

Neil had been doing one stupid thing after another all year long and this had turned into the best year of his life.

He told himself not to think about it right now, but his mouth still remembered the weight of Andrew's lips and that made his hair stand on end.

Whenever Andrew crossed the room, Neil's gaze followed. Every time Neil took his keys out of his pocket and saw the newest addition to his set he remembered Andrew's kiss.

Neil looked up, ready to turn Nicky down, but Andrew had come up beside Nicky in the doorway. Neil looked at him and thought about Nicky's worried appeal last fall, the warning that one day Exy wouldn't be enough on its own. It could be a safe haven from his thoughts and a reason to get up and the inspiration to fight harder. It could mean the world to him, but it couldn't be everything.

Neil built his life around Exy after his mother died because he needed something to live for, but Neil wasn't alone anymore.

So are you completely off-limits or are there any safe zones?" "What are you hoping for, coordinates?" "I'm hoping to know where the lines are before I cross them," Neil said, "but I'm open to drawing a map on you if you want to loan me a marker. That's not a bad idea." "Everything about you is a bad idea," Andrew said, as if Neil didn't already know that.

"It's fine if you hate me," Neil said. It was the truth, if a bit of an understatement. So long as Andrew was only physically attracted to Neil, this was safe to experiment with. Neil's death wouldn't be more than a faint inconvenience to Andrew. "Good," Andrew said, "because I do."

"Stay," Andrew said, and leaned down to kiss him.

How a man who viewed the world with such studied disconnect could kiss like this, Neil didn't know, but he wasn't going to complain.

"Would it kill you to let something in?" "It almost did last time," Andrew said.

Wymack, despite having complained numerously and at length about Neil's attitude problem, flashed his teeth in a fierce smile.

Neil stole the cigarette as he sat down beside Andrew and turned it over in his hands. Andrew blew smoke in his face in response, so Neil flicked ash at him and made as if to stub the cigarette out. Andrew pinched his wrist and took the stick back.

"This," Neil flicked his finger to indicate the two of them, "isn't worthless." "There is no 'this'. This is nothing." "And I am nothing," Neil prompted. When Andrew gestured confirmation, Neil said, "And as you've always said, you want nothing."

"That's a first," Neil said. "Do I get a prize for shutting you up?" "A quick death," Andrew said. "I've already decided where to hide your body." "Six feet under?" Neil guessed. "Stop talking," Andrew said, and kissed him.

"California's overdue for a big earthquake," Nicky pointed out. "That'd take care of USC, at least." "That's a little extreme, don't you think?" Renee asked. "We need something extreme at this point," Allison said.

"No one wants to hear that right now," Neil said. "If you hit me again," Kevin started. Andrew cut in with a casual, "You'll what?" Kevin shut up but didn't look happy about it.

He didn't know what he was looking for. Andrew looked as he always had, and Neil knew his face as well as he knew every iteration of his own. Despite that, something seemed different. Maybe it was the sunlight streaming through the window, making Andrew's pale hair shine brighter and his hazel eyes seem almost gold. Whatever it was, it was disorienting.

"I didn't say anything then because I knew I'd look out for only me when the world went to hell. I don't want to be that person anymore. I want to go back for you."

"I really want to know when Coach figured this out." "It isn't a 'this'," Andrew reminded him. Neil didn't roll his eyes, but it was a near thing. "I really want to know when Coach figured out that you want to kill me only ninety-three percent of the time."

"It's a waste of time and money. They'll all lose. I've said all year I don't swing and I meant it. Kissing you doesn't make me look at any of them differently. The only one I'm interested in is you." "Don't say stupid things." "Stop me," Neil returned.

Neil finally saw Andrew as the crucial eye of the storm.

He was respecting Neil's decision to stand alone and wouldn't hover while Neil said his piece. Neil answered that trust with a small smile, and Andrew turned away.

Dan slung an arm around Neil's shoulders as they headed for the locker room and tipped her head to one side to rest her helmet against his.

The five feet between Neil and his team could have been five thousand miles. Looking at them all, Neil was as sad as he was proud. He was destroying their chances of making it through the season, but the girls still had one more year. They'd be bitterly disappointed by the near-miss but they were fighters. They'd come back swinging next year and they wouldn't let anything stop them.

"Thank you," he finally said. He couldn't say he meant thanks for all of it: the keys, the trust, the honesty, and the kisses. Hopefully Andrew would figure it out eventually. "You were amazing."

He thought of Wymack holding him up in December and Andrew pushing him down against the bedroom floor. The memories made him weak with grief and loss, but they made him stronger, too.

He'd come to the Foxhole Court every inch a lie, but his friends made him into someone real.

He traced the outline of a key into his bloody, burnt palm with a shaky finger, closed his eyes, and wished Neil Josten goodbye.

"How much do my father's people pay you to break your oaths?" "More than the state does," the older officer said. "Don't take it personally." "I have to," Nathaniel said, voice hoarse with pain and hatred. "It's my life."

"My name is Nathaniel Wesninski," he said, "and my father is dead."

"You think this is hard? Look what I've been through. Surviving you is easy." Nathaniel tipped his head to one side and fixed Towns with a cool look. "But can you survive me?"

"They could have blinded you," Nathaniel said. "All that time fighting and you never learned how to duck?"

"So the attitude problem wasn't an act, at least," Andrew said.

"What did I tell you about playing the martyr card?" Andrew asked. "You said no one wanted it," Nathaniel said. "You didn't tell me to stop." "It was implied." "I'm stupid, remember? I need things spelled out." "Shut up." "Am I at ninety-four yet?" "You are at one hundred," Andrew said.

Nathaniel had never heard that murderous tone from him. It made his hair stand on end but somehow eased some of the lava in his chest. It was Nathaniel's fault Andrew's self-control was in shreds, but it was also for his sake. Andrew's bottomless rage would never hurt Nathaniel, and that made all the difference in the world.