End Game_Bellevue Bullies Series Read online

  Contents

  Before you get Started!

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Epilogue

  Preview of Not the One

  Also by Toni Aleo

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  End Game

  Bellevue Bullies Series

  Toni Aleo

  Copyright © 2018 by Toni Aleo

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. End Game is a work of FICTION!

  Editing by: Lisa Hollett of Silently Correcting Your Grammar

  Proofing by: Jenny Rarden

  Cover Design: Jay Aheer of Simply Defined Art

  Photo by: Regina Wamba of Mae I Design

  It’s not every day you get to meet your favorite gymnast.

  I’m raising mine.

  I love you, sissy butt.

  You make my world brighter with just a smile.

  Thank you for being the best inspiration an author could get.

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  Chapter One

  Ryan

  “Aren’t we a little old for a themed Halloween?”

  I glance to the oldest of my cousins and shrug. “You tell that to them.”

  We both look to my mom, my uncle, and my aunt as they snap pictures left and right, oohing and aahing over all of us. They act as if we’re all babies, instead of in our teen years—well, except me. I’m almost twenty-one. I don’t think they realize that, though. Or maybe they just don’t care.

  I want to say I’m embarrassed by the fact that I’m standing in a full-on Gandalf getup as my sister and cousins follow the Lord of the Rings theme, but I’m not. I only act like I am since I’m the oldest. But I actually very much enjoy being Gandalf. He’s a cool dude, and who doesn’t love being the leader of a bunch of hobbits, a dwarf, an elf, and Aragorn?

  My sister, Amelia, doesn’t seem pleased with her tights or her fake, long yellow hair that is braided to perfection. My girl cousins, Shelli and Posey, are still a little butt-hurt they had to be Frodo and Sam. I have to admit, it’s hard to keep a straight face when all I see is their hairy feet. Since they’re the thickest out of all of us, it only made sense they would be the stockier hobbits. The twins, Owen and Evan, are Pippin and Merry with really hilarious curly wigs. And the baby, Quinnie, he’s digging his large sword and heavy suit of armor with an over-the-top long mane of dark hair, which is different from his very clean style with his shaved head.

  It’s easy to say my aunt and my mom go all out for Halloween. I think we’ve been doing matching Halloween costumes since Shelli was born. It was so long ago, but we’ve been everything. From Disney characters to Marvel to the Wizard of Oz, to even hockey teams. The Nashville Assassins, of course, since my aunt Elli owns the hometown team, and my uncle Shea is a local legend.

  “I still say I should have been the Elven queen,” Amelia adds, and Shelli blows her bushy eyebrows out of her eyes before she scoffs.

  “You mean Sméagol?”

  Amelia smacks Shelli and glares. “I was talking about me, not you, asshole.”

  “Language!” Aunt Elli hollers at us, and Amelia holds her hands out to her.

  “She called me Sméagol!”

  “You are the smallest out of us,” Posey says, making a face as she moves the pots and ladles that hang from her waist. “With freakishly long legs. You sure ain’t no damn Legolas. You should have been the dwarf.”

  “Hey! I am a fabulous Legolas, thank you,” Amelia points out, her finger out in front of her and her eyes narrowed. “And these long legs got me a fantastic gymnastics scholarship to college.”

  “No, really? I had no clue,” Posey snaps back, rolling her eyes while Amelia glares and Shelli snickers. “You only tell us daily about your amazing scholarship.”

  “Every damn day,” Shelli complains, and I laugh.

  “Jealous, much?” Amelia asks, and Shelli gives her a look.

  “Please, we all know I’m the most successful out of all of us.”

  “Oh, spare me,” Amelia throws back at her. “Look at me, I’m Shelli Adler, and my mom got me a part on Broadway. And by the way, I don’t get to go by myself. My mommy and daddy have to go because I’m only a baby.”

  I have to say, Amelia’s impression of Shelli is spot-on.

  “And I’m Amelia Justice, with weirdly long legs that make me look like Sméagol, who is going to college on a scholarship for gymnastics, when we all know I’m only going for the hot guys so I can get laid since my boyfriend left me.”

  Damn, low blow. We all know Amelia is upset about her dumbass ex, but I have to give it to Shelli… Her impression was also pretty damn good. I could have gone without the mental image of my sister hooking up at the same college where I’m finishing my senior year.

  “Shelli, your language! Your brothers!”

  Shelli gives her mom an exasperated look. “Momma, they know what sex is. We aren’t in elementary school.”

  The boys all nod, and Elli throws her hands up in a fit. Shea looks proud, while my mom looks two seconds from having a breakdown. Probably because the girls are all sticking their tongues out at each other like a bunch of babies, and the boys are getting restless. Which leaves me, stroking my long white beard as I inhale deeply. This is nothing new. This is actually mild considering the usual ruckus of getting all the Adler and Justice kids together.

  When Quinnie looks up at me, his eyes full of the annoyance we’re all feeling, I send him a grin. “We’re almost done.”

  “All they do is argue. Like, all the time.”

  “And then some,” I add, and he looks away, sighing like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  “Girls. It’s how they are,” Evan adds as his twin, Owen, nods. “Always complaining about something. Especially our girls. They’re dramatic.”

  “All the time. Just wait till you’re in high school, Quinnie. Girls are nothing but trouble.”

  The girls, for obvious reasons, don’t like that much. “Says the guy who couldn’t get a date if he was the last guy on earth,” Am