Fake Game (The System #3)

Chapter Thirty-Six

THIRTY-SIX

DEER

I pass by an open door and peer in.

There looks to be something human shaped curled in the corner.

“Well, this is probably a bad idea.”

I walk into the room only to have the door lock automatically behind me. Yeah. Shoulda seen that coming. Some weird chanting noise starts up, and the closer I get to the burnt body, the louder it gets.

“What’s it saying?”

I try clicking on the body, but nothing happens. Its charred face keeps following me around the room. I strain my ears to make out what it is saying while not letting it out of my sight.

“Live. Live. Live. Live.”

“Well, guess that’s a good thing, right?”

My eyes flick to the chat, only to see that everyone else seems to think I am in a deep load of shit. I click around the old bathroom, trying to see if there’s anything else in here, but come up empty.

“Can I leave?” I walk up to the door and try clicking on it.

The door swings open.

A scream leaves my body.

And a giant blob-shaped fleshy something attacks and kills me.

My screen goes fuzzy with the words SIGNAL LOST splayed across it.

“Great. What even was that?”

My stomach rumbles, and I reach for my phone to check the time, only to remember I left it in the other room since I’m filming and didn’t want another repeat of Jackson distracting me with his dirty texts.

I’ve been streaming for a solid two hours this afternoon, which is pretty damn impressive considering that last week I barely managed an hour before my anxiety began to spike and I quit. Maybe I should just call it while things are still going well. My fans are happy just to see my spontaneous streams; I doubt they’ll be annoyed that it’s on the shorter side again today.

The spontaneous streaming is Aleks’ idea. He figured if I don’t outright announce when I’m going live, there is less of a chance any of the Deer Hunters could preplan something. So far, it seems to be working. Rick hasn’t flagged any suspicious behavior recently, and the streaming has helped curb the rumors around my mysterious hospitalization.

“Okay, fawns. I’m logging off for the day, but thank you for tuning in.” I curve my hands into a heart shape and smile. “Thanks for all your love and support, bye!”

I turn off the stream and remove my headset before I begin the process of shutting down my PC. I push back on my chair and stand up to stretch.

Ugh, my shoulders are all tight because of how tense I was playing that game. I’d seen Jackson play Haunted Huntings a few weeks ago and thought I’d try it out for myself. Fuck, the jump scares are on another level—but that’s a good thing because my brain gets so focused on surviving the game that I’m not able to think about surviving real life. It’s better to feel scared over some mysterious creature popping out in a game than to sit in the corner of my room and panic that a person will stalk out of the shadows to murder me.

I hold onto my trap muscle, massaging it as I pad into my kitchen. My fridge is dismally empty minus the most recent batch of Oreo brookies Jackson made me the other day. I take out the container and carry it to my couch, flopping down and opening it to remove one of the brownie-cookies.

Damn, that man can bake.

I devour it with no shame, happily grabbing a second one…and then a third…and then the fourth and final one. Part of me suspects he puts some kind of hex on these things. They are devilishly addictive.

A loud banging reverberates through my apartment. The Tupperware container clatters to the ground as I jerk up, my heart rate catapulting to new highs. I can’t even get my legs to function properly as I tumble off my couch and crawl on all fours across my living room, hands slapping on the floorboards with every move.

Where’s my handbag?

I spot the heart-shaped purse on my kitchen counter and reach a hand up, hooking the nail of my pinky finger around the handle and tugging. It topples to the floor, contents spilling out—but that’s fine because it makes it easier to spot what I was looking for.

Gripping the item in my hand, I continue with a slow crawl to the door. My free hand splays against the wood, and I use it to help me stand on shaky legs.

My eyes catch on the doorbell camera Parker installed, and I still. Cold embarrassment washes over me.

Gods dammit.

I should’ve checked the camera first before going all panic mode.

With some strength in my legs now, I stand a little more confidently and undo the deadbolt on my door before opening it.

“Hi.”

Jackson looks me up and down with a frown. “Is that a pink taser?”

“Yes.”

“Cute and dangerous, just like you.”

I roll my eyes but smile, stepping back to let him in. He places a kiss on my forehead, and I feel something press in just below my chest. My grin widens when I see a new Tupperware container in his hands.

“More room service?”

I am getting a little spoiled. Jackson has been over every other day the last two weeks with a new sweet treat. Part of me has been tempted to ask if he would bake in my apartment so it could smell like fresh brownies instead of me just burning artificial candles to fill the hole.

“Strawberry cheesecake blondies.” He places the glass container on my counter before taking a seat on my couch. He picks up the empty brookie container off the floor by my coffee table. “Please don’t tell me that my baking is all you’ve been eating?”

“Fine. I won’t.”

“Deer.”

“I haven’t been that hungry.” I bend down to pick up the spillage from my purse, shoving it all back inside before setting the bag on the counter. And because I actually haven’t been eating anything but his baking, I open the new container and pull out one of the blondies. I really should ask Rick to restock my fridge, but I don’t have the energy to cook anyway.

“You haven’t left the apartment since we got back. You even had Lee move Crime Night to your place.”

“So?” I take a bite of the blondie and—oh my Gods, how is it so good? I moan around the bite. It tastes like heaven. Well, if heaven was filled with strawberry clouds and vanilla bean rivers.

“Don’t try to distract me with that moaning of yours.”

“It wasn’t on purpose but,” I grin, “if it works.”

He grabs me by the waist and pulls me down so I’m seated across his lap.

Our relationship is…weird. Part of me feels like I should bring it up because we’re currently living in this gray area that is getting murkier with each passing day. With everything going on, I’m sure playing this game with my heart isn’t the smartest idea—but I’m more worried that I’ll lose him, and I can’t afford that. Jackson is my sanity; if he leaves me, I will fall right back into the dark smoke that curls around me and threatens to swallow me whole. I need my lighthouse to see clearly, to know that there are no monsters.

“So, I wanted to ask you something in person because I thought you might shut me down if I just texted it.”

I still around my next bite of blondie.

There’s no way he can read my mind…can he?

“Okay.”

“You know how the new, unrated director’s cut of Devil Nun 5 just came out in theaters?”

“Yeah, you sent me a link.”

“I was wondering if you’d come with me to the movies this afternoon?”

“You mean like a movie theater.”

Suddenly, the blondie doesn’t seem so appetizing. No, that’s a lie. It still looks great. It’s just that the idea of taking another bite conflicts with the way my stomach is now collapsing in on itself.

“Yeah, the one on Roland Street by the ice cream place.”

“Oh.”

No. That sounds awful. Movie theaters mean people. Lots of people. Random people. And while Dr. Ainsley says that I need to start trying small things—like even a walk around the block—I’m not that keen. I’d figured they’d all be happy enough that I’m not hibernating in my bed twenty-four seven, but apparently the bare minimum isn’t appeasing them.

“Deer?”

“I don’t know.”

“If you don’t come, I’ll have to drag Aleksander. And I’d much prefer you because you’re prettier than him, more fun, and actually care about the movies.”

“But—”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” The response is automatic, and I know in that moment that I’m going to go. Because I do trust him. Even when it seems like the world is aiming a thousand arrows at me, I know Jackson will step in front of me with his shield to prevent it from hurting me.

“Then let me take you to the movies. It’ll be safe.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”