A Game of Hearts and Heists: A Steamy Lesbian Fantasy Romance (Girl Games Book 1)

We leave for the Borderlands tomorrow. Just like that, three weeks of training and preparation evaporated. Which means, BBQ night. Of course, Scarlett made sure that Jacob was not only in agony by the end of the first week of training, but in agony after every single session. Meaning, he’s cooking. He learnt the hard way; you don’t bet a Grey twin. Not if you want to keep your dignity.

My shoulder, thanks to a potent and vile tasting elixir I brewed, is all but healed. There’s a scab on my skin where the knife entered, but I made sure to rub herbs on the wound and drink the elixir daily. By the time we leave tomorrow, even the scab should be gone.

So tonight, we’re back in the park. Jacob is cooking on a rented BBQ under the stone arbour. Remy hands me a beer. “Cheers,” she says.

I clink my bottle against hers. “Cheers.”

We’re silent for a while, sitting and staring out at the surrounding park. I know what’s coming. It’s hung between us this entire time, a weighted secret, thick and dirty. We still haven’t talked, not properly. Sure, we’ve spoken at length about the plans, about runes and routes in, about supplies and security traps, but we haven’t spoken about us.

“Given we might die tomorrow… how you are, really? How have you been since…?” I say.

Remy snorts. “I’m alright, you know how it goes. Escaped the flats, found my way to the rich part of town, realised it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, still found myself on the wrong side of the law. But I’m here, I’m surviving.”

“I’d say you were thriving. Where did you learn about runic systems?”

“I apprenticed to one of Roman’s rivals. Wasn’t the smartest move to be honest, but I learned a lot and tried pretty hard to stay politically neutral. But enough about me. How about you? Are you… happy?” Remy’s eyes flit to Scarlett, who’s standing by Jacob and the BBQ.

I sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s always complicated,” Remy says and nudges me.

“Oh, come on, we were young. It was brief and decidedly uncomplicated, we would never have worked.”

“No. We wouldn’t. Even so, it seems… tense between you.”

I turn to her and lay my head on her shoulder. “That’s what I like. She’s nothing like anyone I’ve ever dated before.”

“You are dating, then?”

“Gods, I have no idea.”

“You need to tell her. Given her penchant for kil—”

I sit up, glaring at her. “Quiet.” I glance at the BBQ but Scarlett has moved further away, talking to Stirling outside the stone arbour.

Remy continues, “I’m just saying. I’ve left it, stayed quiet this whole time, but what the hell are you doing? What do you think is going to happen when you reach the palace and,” she drops her voice, “she’s about to knife the Border Lord and you’re defending your fa—”

“Don’t say it out loud.”

Remy shakes her head. “I know we haven’t stayed in touch much over the years, but I still care about you, Quinn. I want to see you happy with her, but if you don’t tell Scarlett, then this won’t end well.”

“Tell me what?” Scarlett says.

My blood runs cold. Where the fuck did she come from? I glare at Remy, who purses her lips at me. Then she gets up and leaves. The message obvious. Tell her. Tell her who you are.

Scarlett holds out a hand and pulls me up.

“Tell me what?” Scarlett says again, her brows drawing together.

I want to tell her. I do. But as I open my mouth, all the words lodge in my throat, and nothing comes out. Did she hear? Does she already know?

“Quinn? Tell me what?”

I lower my head, but Scarlett’s fingers find my chin and pull it up, her thumb brushing my lip.

“That I don’t want this to end.” It’s the truth. Not the truth I should have admitted, but it is a truth nonetheless.

“And what… is this?” she says.

I look up, my stomach swirling and knotting. “I… I don’t know. But I… I don’t want it to stop. I don’t want us to go back to the way we were… do you?”

She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and when she opens them again, they’re focused.

“No, I don’t. And I didn’t think I’d ever say that. But it does create complications.”

Before I can respond, Stirling barrels into us, knocking us apart. She flings her arms around both our shoulders. “Whaheyyyy, alright love birds.”

Scarlett pinches Stirling’s arm fabric and flings her hand off like a filthy rag.

“Starting the mission with a hangover is a bad idea, don’t you think?” Scarlett says.

Stirling shrugs. “That’s why we’ve got Quinn. She can potion the hangover out of me. Hey, babe?” She winks at me and my lips twitch, trying to suppress a laugh.

Morrigan appears. “Not sobered up yet, then?” She tuts and sashays away.

Stirling’s face falls. “Why do I gotta love that one? She’s never going to love me back. So I’m drinking.” She raises a bottle and glugs the rest of it.

“If you spent more time making it up to her, things might progress,” Scarlett says.

“I am not taking romantic advice from you. You are… you… ugh.” She heads towards the barbecue, stumbling over thin air and alcohol as she walks.

“I hope you have a hangover cure,” Scarlett says.

“I’ll figure one out for her.”

“About before, when this is over, we should talk about us.”

“Okay,” I say, and she heads off to speak to Jacob.

I sidle up to Morrigan, who’s sat on the edge of the hill with a beer.

“Hey,” I say, sitting down next to her.

“Hey, yourself.” She’s cut her hair, not much, but the ends running down her back are pinned straight and as blunt as her fringe.

I glance at her roots. “Oh, you’re not naturally dark?”

She smiles, raises her hands above her scalp, bends and contorts her fingers, and the black seeps into her roots.

“I take after my mother, curves and hair. Her skin is more olive than mine. I get my fair skin from father.”

“Do you have siblings?”

“A sister. I haven’t seen her in a while, though. We don’t get on. In truth, she’s an absolute bitch of the highest order. We’ve spent a lot of time apart for… reasons. You?”

“A little brother, we’re close. I spent a long time looking after him. My mum, she’s… she drinks.”

Morrigan takes my hand and squeezes. “I’d tell you about my family, but you wouldn’t believe it. They all have issues, though. Every family is the same, legacy or not.”

I scan her face, Collection tattoos peeking out of the collar of her shirt, and that’s when I figure it out. “You’re a legacy, aren’t you?”

She gives me a soft smile.

“I couldn’t work out how you had collected so much power, but there’s no other way. You have to be a legacy magician.”

“Yes, of sorts. I don’t like to talk about it though because I worked damn hard to get where I am. I’m the one that studied and grafted to earn the power. I don’t want that work undermined by the fact I’m a legacy.”

“I respect that,” I say and clink our drinks.

“I’m not the only one you respect, am I?” She nods in Scarlett’s direction. She’s still standing with Jacob.

“She’s more talented than she realises. I reckon the loss of her legacy really affected her confidence. One minute she’s commanding and decisive, and the next, she can’t see what’s right in front of her.”

“Don’t undersell yourself. She knows exactly what’s in front of her. She’s afraid of how much she wants it, how much she wants you.”

I don’t want to think about Scarlett anymore. It’s complicated. I notice Stirling slumped in a chair under the arbour. “I take it she’s drunk because you rowed?”

Morrigan notices Stirling, huffs and lies down on the grass. “How can you love and hate someone all at the same time?”

I laugh. “Apparently, quite easily.”

Scarlett’s eyes find mine across the park. It makes my heart pump. She makes my heart pump.

I squeeze Morrigan’s shoulder. “We’re all a little fucked up. Maybe it’s time to forgive her.”

Scarlett gestures for me to walk with her.

“Excuse me, I’m being summoned.”

She waves me off and I get up to meet Scarlett on the other side of the arbour.

“Will you walk with me?” she asks. The late afternoon air is chilly already. A breeze whips around us the minute we leave the sanctuary of the arbour. She’s carrying a rucksack, but she slings an arm around my shoulder, anyway.

“Always cold, despite that fiery heart of yours,” she says.

“And you’re always warm, despite that cold killer heart of yours.”

She laughs. “You’re lucky I don’t pull a knife on you now.”

“Foreplay in the park?” I grin up at her.

We make our way down the hill and take a path through the woods. The sun is setting and the last rays of light stream through the canopy of trees, spraying the forest floor with speckled beams of light. The trees rustle and sing a nighttime lullaby as if calling the evening closer. I shiver against Scarlett’s side, so she pulls me closer. How different we are to a month ago.

We walk in silence for a time. Scarlett’s fingers brush against my arm. This is silly. I know what I want. I reach up and loop my fingers through hers.

Words build in my chest. I need to say the things worrying me. The things we need to sort before we go into the Border. Perhaps if I explain to her that the Border Lord is my father, that will be enough to change her mind. Besides the fact it’s dangerous in there, and if we’re not a united front, we’re all going to be in danger. We continue to stroll quietly through the woods, happy in each other’s company until we reach a clearing and I can’t hold back the words anymore.

I pull us to a stop and face her.

“What if he didn’t do it?” I say.

Scarlett sighs. “Why do you care about the Border Lord?”

“I don’t. It’s… What if he didn’t?”

Scarlett takes my hand and rubs her thumb in circles around my palm. “The thing is, even if he didn’t. What he has done. What he asked me to do… it’s… it’s unforgivable. No matter whether he dies because he took my parents or for his other crimes, he’s not a good man.”

My eyes sting. She doesn’t understand what she’s saying. She doesn’t know him, not like I do. Aren’t we all faulty in some way?

“None of us are innocent. Not you or me. We’ve both killed people. This isn’t a game anymore. We could go in there and die.”

She frowns, the furrows making her ice-blue eyes bright. “Life is a game, Quinn. We’re here until we’re not. We’re winning until we lose. Doesn’t everything feel sweeter when you’ve fought for it?”

She’s right, but this feels like much more. We’re tied in knots, and I don’t know how to get us out.

“I need you to promise you won’t kill him.”

She steps away from me. “Why? What aren’t you telling me?”

I rub my forehead, my mouth drying. This, right here, is when I should tell her, but I know even as the thought trickles through my head that I won’t. That if I do, I’ll lose her. Instead, I tell a lie wrapped in truth.

“Because I can’t bear the thought of you dying. He’s dangerous, the Borderlands are dangerous, and I want us both to come out alive. If for no other reason than I can kill you myself and destroy your business.”

This makes her roar. “Liar.”

“Narcissist.” I’m smiling, but inside I’m breaking.

“Don’t ask me to promise that. The one thing I never want to do is break a promise I’ve made to you.”

I lean my forehead against her chest, wrap my arms around her waist and pull her in tight, wishing that I could pull her so close our atoms merge, close enough that the space, the lies and the secrets disappear and there is only us left. There, safe in her arms, thoughts of my father surface. Memories I’d suppressed. I don’t want to believe her. But the closer we get to this mission, the more memories surface, and, like a parasite, I’m doubting myself.

Doubting him.

Thing is, after The Tearing, you had to live under the Border Lord’s rule. Father took charge, he saved lives, provided clarity and leadership when there was none. He made everyone feel safe and like there was hope again.

It’s easy to a cling to a leader when they gift you hope. Maybe he took things too far. I was young; I didn’t see the change in him. That line between corruption and justice, leader and dictator.

“I brought you something…” she says, pulling me back to reality.

“You did?” I ask, disentangling myself.

“Let’s make a deal…”

“Isn’t that usually my thing?” I say.

“What can I say? Your games rubbed off on me.” She kneels by the bag, pulling the strings.

“Alright, you piqued my interest. What are the stakes?”

“Our hearts?”

“Those are some high stakes.”

“Well, someone once told me every deal has stakes.”

“Did they now?” I’m grinning down at her, trying to sneak a look inside the bag, but she scrunches the fabric so I can’t see. I sigh. “Fine, what do you desire…?”

“I don’t think it’s polite for me to confess what I desire.” Her expression softens. She stands, sliding the item behind her back. She trails a finger up my neck, slides her hand around my head, and pulls me close. My heart slams against my chest, a rhythmic siren calling one name only.

“I believe all the best deals are sealed with a kiss.”

I gasp. “One kiss? From your sworn enemy?”

She smiles. “Just one.”

“A fair price.”

So I lean in and stretch up on tiptoes, and then she leans in to meet me. Her fingers tangle in my hair. Her lips move over mine, soft at first, then harder. She sucks and tugs on my lower lip. My nipples graze against my top as they stiffen. Her hand drops to my bra, her fingers playing with my steely nubs. I drag my kiss down her neck, along her collarbone.

“A worthy kiss, indeed,” she says, finally pulling away. “I believe this belongs to you.”

She pulls the object out. Its dark leather cover, worn and degraded with love.

“My journal.” And this time when I gasp, it’s not fake. “You’re giving it back?”

“I’m not the same person I was when I took it… I didn’t feel right keeping it anymore.”

I leap into her arms. She stumbles, but catches me, and when I kiss her, it’s with everything I have. My lips glide over hers hard, then soft. My tongue pushing into her mouth, tasting the sweet smoke of her. Her arms slide around my arse, gripping me tight. She walks me until my back hits a tree. The journal thuds to the floor, but I don’t care, it won’t break.

Right now, I want her.

All of her.

Tonight.

And every night for as long as I breathe.

She strips my top, and her mouth finds my breasts, my stomach. She unbuckles my trousers and slides her fingers into my knickers to find my clit.

But even as she pushes a finger, two, inside me, over and over, until I’m breathless and moaning into her neck.

Even as I soak her hand and dig my nails into her shoulder, my world dissolving into electric tingles, my core breaking apart for her.

There’s something deep inside my soul. Something dark and insidious. Something full of doubt and fear that when she finds out who I really am, all of this will be over.