Fake Game (The System #3)

Chapter Forty-Three

FORTY-THREE

DEER

I don’t know how much time passes.

At least a day or two from the way the light shifts on the ground beneath my curtains, a thin line of sunshine appearing only to be replaced by the blackness of night, plunging my room into a sanctum of stars over and over again.

It’s a cycle that shows the world is still spinning even though it feels like it’s stopped.

I unplugged my Wi-Fi—ripped it from the wall, to be more specific, since I’d yanked hard enough on the ethernet cable without unscrewing it that the entire socket wrenched itself from the plaster.

It doesn’t matter though. The point was to disconnect me from the outside world, from any threats, and I’d done just that.

No one can watch me.

My streaming room is trashed, my webcam smashed to pieces on the floor.

My phone is…somewhere. Dead, probably, at this point.

A good thing.

It stops me from going back through every message I’ve ever exchanged with Rick over the years. But it doesn’t stop my mind from running through the memories. From questioning why? Did I do something wrong? Was it me?

I spend most of my time sleeping or just lying in bed, staring at the wall, cycling through an endless cavern of self-destruction and self-pity.

Sometimes, like now, I’ll find my way into my bathroom and stick my head under the sink faucet for some water. There’s still some part of me, I guess, that reminds my body it has to live.

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, risking a glance in the mirror.

Haunted desert brown eyes stare back at me.

Live isn’t the right word.

Survive is more fitting.

That’s what I’m doing, surviving.

A knock at the front door echoes through my shell of an apartment.

I stop breathing, body frozen midstep back to my bed. I strain my ears, but all I can hear is my blood pumping. It’s only when my lungs begin to burn, and my vision goes double that I inhale. The sound of my sharp breath forces me back into action and I scurry onto my bed, crawling back under the covers and squeezing them tightly around myself.

I’m broken—a butterfly that’s gone into a cocoon to become a caterpillar.

I don’t care who is at the door. I don’t want to think about the world outside this room, the dangers. If someone like Rick could turn on me, who is to say someone else won’t? I trusted him, he seemed fine…normal.

You can’t trust anyone.

The world isn’t safe.

Nowhere here is safe.

I’m not safe.

There’s a resounding bang, almost like my front door was flung open so hard that it hit the wall.

On instinct, my body shoots up, my eyes flying open to search for the threat.

Someone’s here.

Is this how it ends?

No.

There’s still a small spark inside me, a little star that is twinkling fiercely, trying its hardest not to be engulfed by the darkness. It’s that little sparkle that has me reaching to grab my taser from my side table, brandishing it like a sword at anyone who comes in.

“Deirdre?”

I suck in a breath.

“Deirdre? Where are ya?”

I suck in another breath, but it quickly turns to teary hiccups.

“Da?”

My bedroom door pushes open, and a man with red hair streaked with gray and a weathered but kind face comes trudging in. His presence is an instant shot of relief to my haywire system.

“Oh. Oh, my little princess.” He takes three strides to my bed, reaching out to pull me into him. “You gave me half a fright.”

My hiccups quickly transcend to full-blown sobs, the taser slipping out of my hands as I dig my fingers into his sweater.

“Da,” I continue to cry.

It’s the only word I seem capable of getting out.

“I know. Let it out.” He cradles me against his chest, whispering soothing words as he runs his hand over the back of my head.

It’s the first time I’ve cried since everything happened. His familiar woodsy scent is a signal to my system that I’m safe, and the floodgates just won’t stop.

“Come on, I’ve got you.” He begins to lift me out of the bed.

“No!” It comes out as a guttural screech. “I’m not going anywhere.” My body scrambles, trying to escape from his hold.

“Deirdre Maura Malloy.” His tone is deep and commanding.

I look up at him like a cornered rabbit.

“I’m not trying to bite yer head off. It just breaks my heart seeing you like this.” His hard hazel eyes soften as he sighs, running a hand along his beard. “Why didn’t you say nothing?”

“I don’t know. I—I thought I could handle it.”

“Doesn’t really look like you’re handling it.”

I press my lips together.

“What’re you gonna do? Stay cooped up in here forever?” He makes a show of looking around my musty room.

“No.”

Yes.

“Yer coming home.”

“Home?”

“Carlingford. I’m taking you back to Carlingford.”

I’m about to protest, tell him there’s no way, but…

Why not? No one’s going to come looking for me there. Da’s kept the location hidden from the public with countless security measures. The house is secluded, even for a small village like Carlingford, and the townsfolk protect the privacy of their own.

It’s not safe here, not even in my room—it’s why I can’t sleep, it’s why I can’t breathe, it’s why I can’t live. I’m doxed. My information is out in the world for anyone to find. A selfish bubble in my chest pops, leaving a hollow cavern inside. I want to run. To leave. To escape.

I want out. I want the noises in my head to stop. I want to feel safe.

Can I feel safe?

“It’s not up for discussion. Your mam’s worried sick about you, and reporters are queuing outside your apartment like it’s the last Sunday service. Safety comes first.”

“They are?”

My mind conjures up images of people gathering outside the complex, of them storming past security and convening at my door, where they’ll hound and hound and hound until they break me down. I’m not safe.

I’ll never be safe.

“Come home, child. Take a break. Enjoy some fresh country air.”

Within my fractured soul, there is a churning whirlpool of guilt and shame trying to fight my selfish cowardice. It swirls with the reminder of my friends, with the reminder of the man who has stayed by my side this entire time and fought to help me. The man who has been my protector and who promised me the world.

My heart beats for him, but my heart is damaged. And while there is a part of me that yearns for him, that loves him, it is struggling to win out over the part of me that is dying, the part of me that just doesn’t care.

My mind is a mess of anxiety, fear, and depression.

I’m a forest that’s been put under a curse. My trees are withering, the air is turning poisonous, and the animals are morphing into monsters.

He calls me Sparkles, but my light is waning and soon all I’ll be is a speck in the dark.

What good am I to him like this?

What good am I broken?

I raise my phantom gaze and open my lips.

“Okay.”

And I fall deeper into the abyss.