Fake Game (The System #3)

Chapter Twenty-Three

TWENTY-THREE

JACKSON

“ J ackson?”

Deer’s bright blue eyes blink at me as she stares, frozen at the bar of the Cardinal Club.

“What are you doing here?”

She snaps out of her daze, shoulders stiffening as she tilts her chin up. “I wanted a drink.”

“Here?”

“Yes. Why? Is that a problem?”

It is such a problem. How’d she even find this place? Did she find my duffle bag when she was staying in my room? She never gave off the impression that she was the type to snoop around.

“What happened to the party?”

“It was lame.”

“Lame?”

“Yes. Lame.”

The videos on Parker’s story say the party is anything but lame. In fact, it seemed like it was spawned from the third level of hell—everyone a glutton for drugs, sex, booze, and fame. But that isn’t exactly Deer’s style.

“Come on, let’s get you home.” I hold my hand out, but she pushes it aside, looking past me.

“Who’s your friend?”

“I’m Savannah.” The woman next to me smiles and reaches out her hand to Deer, but instead of shaking it, she places a kiss on her knuckles. “It’s lovely to meet you, Deirdre.”

All the life drains from Deer’s face, her skin turning as white as her eyeliner.

“What?” The word is barely a whisper as it leaves her glossy lips. She scuttles off the bar stool, walking backward until her back hits the wall like a cornered rabbit.

I shoot a look at Savannah before squeezing around the bar. “I thought you said nothing happened?”

Her brows furrow. “Nothing did. As soon as I realized who she was, I didn’t take my eyes off her. I’m not sure what’s wrong?”

“Deer?” I hold my hands out as I approach her, watching her eyes dart like a ping-pong ball between Savannah and me. I look around myself, trying to figure out what spooked her. “Deer, what’s going on, baby?” I lean forward, bracing my hands on her shoulders and giving them a light squeeze.

“Who are you?” Her panic dissipates, instantly replaced with venomous anger. Deer shoves out of my arms, stalking past me until she is chest to chest with a startled Savannah. “And how do you know my name?”

“What?” Savannah’s red lips pull into a tense, confused smile as she frowns down at the petite woman before her.

“How. Do you know. My name?” The words are hushed but laced with a lethal smoke.

“Deirdre?”

Deirdre?

“Yes,” she hisses, looking around the lounge like she’s worried we might be overheard.

“It was on your license when you came in and logged into the system. I—” Savannah’s dark eyes flit to mine with a silent plea for help, except I have no idea what the hell to do. “I’m not sure what else to tell you.”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware this establishment just handed out private information to all their customers.” Deer lets out a laugh, and more than a few heads turn our way.

“Well, they do when you’re a majority stakeholder who has heard about a certain pink-haired woman from their good friend before. I was just making sure a lost lamb didn’t get eaten by the wolves.” Some of that signature fire returns to Savannah. Outside the bedroom, she is a domineering force to be reckoned with. “You should mind your tone.”

“And you should watch your back.”

“O-kay, ladies,” I push forward, placing a hand on each of their shoulders to keep them apart. “Let’s not draw more attention to ourselves. Savannah, thank you for your help. I’ll take her home.”

She holds my gaze for a second, unspoken words swirling between us, but she lets it go, swiveling on her heels and stalking for the club door before disappearing inside—no doubt to let off steam with some poor, unsuspecting soul or souls. When I told her about Deer, I didn’t think anything like this was going to happen. It was an off-handed comment I thought she’d forgotten, but I should’ve known Savannah never forgets the details. Still, I’m grateful.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Deer bites out. She’s uncaged right now; it’s a side I’ve never seen from her before.

“Yes, you are.”

“No.” She pushes past me. “In fact, I’m going to see what exactly Miss Majority Stakeholder is hiding.”

“No, you’re not.” I reach forward and scoop her up, maneuvering her until she is thrown over my shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

She lets out a string of curses that would cause even the most depraved sinner’s ears to heat as she kicks her legs in protest. But despite the amount of damage she tries to inflict, she is still half my size.

My car is running at the valet since I’d only asked for them to hold it while I ran in to grab Deer in the first place. And while the valet attendant is a little thrown off by me carrying an angry pink demon, it’s definitely not the strangest thing he’s seen come out of the Cardinal Club.

I get her into the passenger seat and lock the door before quickly running to my side of the car, getting in, and taking off.

She’s surprisingly silent as I drive home and doesn’t attempt or threaten to open the door and roll out, which only makes me worry more.

What the hell happened back there?

I could barely even piece it together myself, so much of the conversation was unsaid.

Only one thing was clear: she flipped when Savannah called her Deirdre.

As soon as I pull into the apartment complex and park the car, she jumps out and makes a beeline for the elevator. But despite her best efforts at trying to get the doors to close before I mosey my way over, she fails. I stick a hand between the closing metal doors, forcing them to reopen as I take my place next to her.

When the elevator stops on her floor and she gets off, I follow her out.

“What are you doing?”

“Seemed easier to follow you than to try to drag you to the penthouse.”

“You didn’t seem to have much of an issue manhandling me earlier,” she snarls.

“Well, you weren’t really open to reason, now, were you?”

She lets out a huff before stalking to her apartment, heels clicking angrily on the floor with each step.

“Seriously, stop.” She shoots me an angry glare as she covers her keypad with one hand and inputs her code with the other.

“Can’t. Have to make sure you’re safe.”

And that’s when I see it again, the anxious panic bubbling beneath the surface, the stuff she is trying to keep hidden but is struggling to contain as it grows.

Her resolve wavers just enough to afford me the chance to slip through her reinforced walls, and I use that split second to usher her inside her apartment, following closely behind.

But as soon as she crosses the threshold, every string that has been keeping her upright snaps. The familiarity and safety of her apartment strips away her hard shell, and I watch as her steps start to drag as she trudges into her bedroom, failing to slam it closed.

I close the door behind me and head to her fridge, pulling out her water filter and pouring us each a glass.

When half an hour passes, I begin to wonder if she’s actually going to come back out or just leave me here…I wouldn’t put it past her.

I raise my knuckles to her bedroom door and give it a short rap.

“What.”

“I brought you water.”

There’s a beat of silence before the door cracks open. I hold the glass out to her, and she takes it between her hands, cradling it to her chest as she peers up at me.

“Why are you still here?”

“Because I didn’t want you to be alone.”

She lets out a sigh and opens the door fully before turning to head into her bathroom. I take a seat on the footboard bench, watching her.

“You feeling better?”

“I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

“Okay.”

She eyes me through the reflection in the mirror, her nails tapping rhythmically on the marble counter. “Do you have any other questions?”

“I do.”

“Are you going to ask them?”

“Would you answer them?”

She slumps forward onto her elbows, dropping her head so her pink hair creates a curtain around her face.

My body moves on its own, unable to watch as the cracks in her armor begin to bleed. I wrap my arms around her, lightly pulling her into my body.

“Have a shower. Take a breath. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

I place a kiss on the top of her head—not giving it much thought—before letting go and shutting the door behind me. It only takes a few minutes before I hear the shower start up, and it helps calm the tapping of my foot on the carpet.

I have questions. Of course, I have questions.

Like who the fuck is Deirdre? Are her eyes blue or did I imagine them a different color? Does she feel safe in her new apartment? Has she had any more nightmares? What’s her favorite season? Did she actually enjoy watching Devil Nun ? Who are her parents? Does she have any siblings? What’s her favorite Pokémon (I think it’s Togepi)?

I don’t know my fake girlfriend, and it’s driving me up the wall because for the first time in years, I find myself actually wanting to get to know someone. Deer has found a way to get under my skin, and now I’m determined to do the same. I want her to think about me just as much as I think about her. I can’t be the only person in this relationship who feels like their entire world is slowly tilting.

The bathroom door opens and a cloud of steam wafts out. Deer hugs her fluffy pink robe close to her body as she makes a beeline for her walk-in closet. She finally emerges in an over-sized anime T-shirt and micro shorts.

Fuck me.

When she looks up, one of my questions is finally answered.

“Your eyes are brown.”

“Biologically, yes.”

She throws her robe haphazardly into her bathroom and then pads over, crawling onto her bed. I turn around and face her as she gathers up the blanket on her bed and scrunches it into a ball close to her body.

“I thought it was a trick of the light the other night.”

“Nope.” She avoids looking at me directly. “No one else knows.”

“So, I’m special?”

“Hardly. It’s just hard to keep the contacts in when taking off my makeup; they get all cloudy.”

“Sure,” I grin at her excuse. “Brown eyes are cute.”

“Yeah, well, they don’t work.” She squints at me. “You’re blurry unless you stand close to me.”

“Oh?” I shift from the footboard to her mattress. “How close?” I continue moving across the bed, closing the distance between us.

Her hands tighten on her blanket, but she says nothing until I’m mere inches away. I drink up the way her cheeks are flushed red from the shower. Her skin is covered in a smattering of very pale freckles. I reach out and cup her jaw, running my thumb over them.

“Too close.” She pushes me back with more force than I expect from her tiny body. “My vision is not that messed up.”

I lean back on my forearms, tilting my head as I watch her draw her knees to her chest.

“What’s going on in that mind of yours, Sparkles?”

A haunted look passes through her eyes. “Why haven’t you asked me?”

“Asked you what?”

She lets out a light huff that borders on an almost self-deprecating laugh. The small smile that pulls at the corners of her lips is sad and her lids lower with a look of defeat.

“What happened back at the club, Deer?”

Her sadness muddles into confusion. “Club?”

And now it’s my turn to avert my gaze. “How about this. You tell me what happened, and I tell you what’s behind that red door.”

Some of the tension leaves her shoulders, and she gnaws on her lower lip before nodding.

“You do have to go first,” I push, nudging her foot with my own.

She lets out a tsk, but when her eyes meet mine again, I see a fire building. She opens her mouth, and that fire promptly snuffs out. “I’m going to be sick.” She drops her forehead to her knees.

I’m so lost. I don’t want to push her; I don’t want to hurt her…but something tells me I need to. That whatever is haunting her is something she wants to share but is terrified to. Whatever weight she is carrying, I just want to be able to lessen the load even if it’s just by the smallest fraction. Deer is always determined to be the knight of her own story, but even the strongest warrior needs backup.

So, I don’t move. I sit and wait, and wait, and wait, until she finally comes to terms with herself.

“My name is Deirdre.”

Deirdre .

“Sounds very…Irish.”

“I know.” She lets out a sigh, raising her head.

As someone who also kept their real name a secret for years, I know just how much this means. That she is entrusting me with a very fragile piece of her soul, and I can’t afford to let it shatter. Everyone has their own reason for creating an alternate persona online. For Parker, it was so he didn’t involve the reputation of his famous family name. For me, it was because I knew my family wouldn’t approve and I wanted to keep my privacy. I want to know what Deer’s story is.

“Your gamertag makes more sense now.”

She smiles briefly. “Everyone called me Deir growing up.”

“Washington, right?”

“Kinda. My mam and da moved us here when I was ten, but they moved back to Carlingford when I graduated high school.”

“You don’t have to answer, but why all the secrecy?”

“Cone of silence?”

I nod my head, and she slumps back against her headboard.

“Honestly, there’s many reasons. One of them being that I do value my privacy. You’ve seen how it is for Lee. People love to invade the lives of female streamers, and they can be creepy about it. I’ve received some weird messages over the years. Having an alternate personality makes me feel safer, makes me feel like nothing will happen…although the swatting kind of murdered that hope.”

“We’d never let anything happen to you.”

“I appreciate that, but you guys can’t be everywhere. You can’t stop the creeps who flood my streams with sexual innuendos, or who DM me all the stuff they’d like to do to me if we ever met, or who mail used condoms to my P.O. box.”

“Are you serious?”

She winces. “Yeah. It got bad, which is why I have my moderator handle it all—especially the fan mail and packages—to keep me safe.”

“Shit. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” She sighs. “And then there’s the Deer Hunters.”

“The Deer Hunters?”

“The people who swatted me. They’re dead set on freaking me out. I can’t tell if it’s because they hate me or are obsessed with me. Either way, I can’t imagine how much worse it would be if they had access to my personal information.”

“Why didn’t you say this sooner? I thought it was just a random swatting.”

My blood heats under my skin. How long has she been dealing with this? No wonder she has so much anxiety in public if she feels like there is a group of people out to get her. If I’d known, I could’ve…I could’ve done something. Anything.

“You can’t do anything about them, Jackson. I’ve tried.”

“Well, I have a Parker.”

“And?”

“And there aren’t many places his family can’t reach. We’re ninety percent sure his sister has something to do with MI-6.”

“Parker isn’t the only person from an affluent family.” She bites the inside of her cheek. “That’s the second reason I’ve kept everything secret. My name’s Deirdre Malloy.”

I frown.

I’m not really sure where this is going.

“My da’s name is Cathal Malvin Malloy.” She pauses. “CM Malloy.”

“Wait. As in the CM Malloy? The dude who founded Gods League ?”

She nods.

Holy fuck. Deer is a legacy. Hell, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say she comes from video game royalty.

“I knew it wouldn’t take long for people to figure it out if they knew what my name was. I mean, look at Lee; you can find her entire family history on Wiki. I didn’t want people to think my entire gaming career was based on who my family is—it’s hard enough to get taken seriously as a female gamer.”

“But you don’t even play Gods League .”

“Yeah, for a reason.”

“Does this mean you’re secretly super OP? Have you been holding out on us?”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m still not as good as Aleksander—and I don’t want to be—but I could crush Parker.”

“Anyone can crush Parker in Gods League .”

“Fair.”

“So, no one knows? Not even Lee?”

She shakes her head. “No. It all seemed too risky.”

“But you’re telling me.”

“Well, you are my fake boyfriend, and I didn’t have much of a choice after Savannah.” Her upper lip twitches. “I didn’t count on my ID being logged into a system, I thought it was just a normal bar.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“Will…will Savannah say anything?”

“No.” I reach my hand out and lay it on her knee, giving it a squeeze. “If anyone knows discretion, it’s Savannah.”

“How do you know her?”

Here we go.