Burning Rivalry (Trevor's Harem #2) (20 page)

“Not even to help your mommy?”
 

It doesn’t even ding me this time. She’s used that one before. “Not even. So I guess you’re not that smart after all. I made it as far as I wanted to go. I’m walking away with over a hundred thousand dollars. But because you couldn’t leave well enough alone, you just cast suspicion back on yourself. So sure, I’m out. But here’s the P.S., Kylie.” I lower my voice to a whisper.
“Nobody believes you, and now you’re out, too.”
 

I look forward, but in my peripheral vision, I see a small, sinister smirk claw its way onto Kylie’s face. “Maybe you’re ‘out’ more than you think you are.”
 

 
I ignore her, focused on Trevor arranging the roses.
 

“Didn’t your boyfriend tell you all about me?” Kylie purrs. “Do you think this contest really means everything to me? It would have been the easiest way, sure. But if you think this will keep me from making all the money I want, you’re sorely mistaken.” She gives a cold chuckle. “You, on the other hand? You think you have problems
now?”

I swallow, still ignoring her.
 

“That studio you want? I know you had people scouting. But I’d be shocked if those listings miraculously all became suddenly unavailable. At least to you.”
 

“Bullshit.”
 

“Not as much bullshit as your financial situation
, Miss Miller.
I’ll bet you don’t even
know
the offenses that can prompt a bank account to be frozen.”

My jaw unlocks, scissors side to side. I could punch Kylie to shut her mouth. Not a slap this time, but a
punch
. The only thing stopping me is a strange certainty that like on that first night, she
wants
me to do it.
 

Kylie turns. She trails a finger along my dress, skipping playfully upward. I know she broke a few nails climbing rocks, but they’re back to immaculate. Apparently, one week and a billionaire’s resources can heal any wound.
 

“You,” she says, “don’t
get
to win. Don’t you understand that, little girl?”
 

There’s a blur of motion and a smacking sound. I look down and see, to my shock, that Kat has grabbed Kylie by the wrist, both of their arms inches from my midsection. Kylie is staring at Kat, bug-eyed. Kylie must be five-nine without heels, and I doubt Kat cracks five feet, but right now, in this tug of war, there’s no contest. Kat’s grip is iron, turning Kylie’s tan flesh bone white.
 

“There is building, in Ukraine,” Kat says in her thick accent, staring directly into Kylie’s eyes, “where many computers are kept. Is said that your LiveLyfe network holds much information there. Maybe there is not enough space in USA computers. Or maybe rumors are true, that LiveLyfe collects data from users that American FBI does not appreciate. Is not my business to know.”
 

Kylie yanks her arm, jarring me a step backward. But Kat hangs on like a dog.
 

“Whose business it
is
to know,” she goes on, “is Bratva, Russian Mafia. Who control some in Ukraine, too. Who control more in
US
than most know. And who sometimes abduct young girls to sell as property, or pass around as gift.” Kat squeezes Kylie tighter, wrinkling her skin. “Girls who have hard life in Ukraine. But who sometimes learn things. Like how when big company acquired LifeLyfe, Ukraine building became very interesting, and tall American man from many magazine covers visit with Bratva. Tall, handsome … but
disappointed
American man, because someone steal from him.”
 

I look from Kat to Kylie, Kylie to Kat. Kat’s voice is low enough that nobody’s really seeing this but me, though heads are now starting to turn.
 

“I know your reputation,” Kat says, “because I am smart too.”
 

Kylie finally finds her voice. “Whatever you think, you can’t possibly — ”

Kat interrupts her, their conjoined arms shaking from the effort of pulling apart.
 

“Who does
not
know your reputation is Caspian White. Or Bratva brotherhood. So maybe what you have planned, what you just said to her? Maybe your mind is changed about all of it now — just in case wrong people learn wrong things.” And then the first frightening smile I’ve seen forms on Kat’s lips, and she spits Kylie’s words back at her, syllables rolling out in a Slavic hiss. “Do you understand that …
little girl?”
 

Kat opens her hand, and Kylie wrenches violently away all at once, almost falling on her ass. Her mouth opens and closes, but Kylie seems unable to find the right words. I watch her until Erin and Jessica return, slotting into the space between us. And I have to say, as our configuration shifts, that I like Jessica on my left a whole lot better. And I like Kat on my right now, too — though of course when I look over at her, all I get is a nod that’s not much more than a businesslike tip of her chin, as if an unpleasant task has now been accomplished, a problem amicably solved.
 

Daniel calls us to order. He watches me too long as he does, and I almost want to shoo his attention away. He’s going to get himself busted, and for nothing. Yes, I feel something for him. Clearly. And yes, I think he feels something for me. But there’s no point in making things worse in these final few minutes, torturing ourselves, blowing everything for nothing at all.
 

But the contestants, mostly assembled, quiet down and form a shallow horseshoe. Daniel is to one side, hands clasped in front of his waist. He won’t stop looking at me. It’s like he’s holding my hand, keeping me close. Even from all the way up there.
 

Trevor picks up the first rose. We’ve all seen TV, knowing the bit they’ve clearly stolen for this moment.
 

The first rose goes to Ivy.
 

She exhales, relieved, then walks up from somewhere on my left, beyond Kylie. She hugs Trevor and kisses him, as if they’re only courting instead of the so much more they’ve already done. Walking back, she looks in my direction. I get a moment’s stare, but it’s barely more than a blink.
 

Next is Roxy. That surprises me. Maybe it’s true, that the squeaky wheel gets the grease — or in this case, that the sluttiest girl gets the promotion. We’ve seen that Roxy does anything, and I do mean
anything
. But wife material?
Discreet
material — the edict I’ve violated? I don’t see it. Maybe he’s keeping her around for a good time, knowing she’ll only make one more round and wanting to squeeze maximal juice from her in the meantime.
 

Then Kat.
 

As Kat goes up, I watch her. It’s strange to think that not five minutes ago, I would have looked at this lineup so far and felt a shiver. Ivy, Roxy,
and
Kat? I wouldn’t want to be advanced with that group, never in a thousand years. But now Kat has flipped in my mind, 180 degrees. I don’t know much about her, and I’ve always interpreted her chill as hatred. But maybe she’s sort of distant by nature. Or maybe just Russian.
 

As Kat walks back down, her eyes tick toward me. Just a second, like with Ivy, but with a decidedly different temperature.
 

“Kylie,” Trevor says.
 

I look at Jessica. I can’t help myself; I even lean out to look at Kylie. She seems as shocked as I am that her name’s been called, but she quickly recovers, then runs up for a rose, a hug, and a kiss. Her, I won’t look at when she returns to the line. I don’t want to see victory on her face. I want to remember her the way I saw her last, slapped right back into place by the firecracker on my right.
 

“You said they know she did it,” I say.
 

“They do.”
 

“You said
Trevor
knew!”
 

“He does!” Jessica seems almost flustered, like the Earth has failed to support her.
 

“How can he keep her? She’s — ”
 

But then I remember Daniel saying,
I knew who she was. I picked her
because
she’s like she is
. And I realize that Kylie being a thief and a traitor and a conniver and a manipulator isn’t working against her. In all probability, it’s the reason she advanced.

“Jessica.”
 

And that, at least, makes me smile. Kat might be a friend after all, but I still barely know her. Jessica, on the other hand, is one of my BFFs as far as this wacky adventure goes. Out of everyone here, I want her to win. Seeing her move up makes me happy.
 

When she steps back into place beside me with her rose, beaming, I can’t help but beam right back. I feel light. Queen Kylie was deposed, even if she still has her hooks in this contest, and Jessica is advancing. Maybe, with time, I’ll find a way to see Daniel again — once it’s safe for us, once we’re no longer contestant and wrangler. It has to end, and now. But of all the ways it could finish, I like this best.
 

I take Jessica’s free hand. We glance at Erin. At the front, Trevor picks up the final rose.
 

“Erin, Erin!” Jessica and I chant under our breath.
 

But Trevor looks right at me and says, “Bridget.”

FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS NEXT!
 

Get the sequel here:
http://aubreyparker.net/choice

Trevor’s game
feels less like a contest now … and more like an experiment.
 

I shouldn’t have made it past the first round. I don’t know how I did; I’m not special like the others. When I ask Daniel, he just tells me it’s complicated. Then he talks about brain chemistry, how love and sex are an addiction. He tells me how wild animals claim mates, and how he’s claimed me.
Sometimes I’m afraid of them all, even of Daniel. But It’s like I’m on a tether. I couldn’t leave if I wanted to.
 

CLICK THE LINK, AND GET
THE BURNING CHOICE:

http://aubreyparker.net/choice