Fake Game (The System #3)

Chapter Forty-Six

FORTY-SIX

JACKSON

M y phone smashes against the wall.

I can’t keep doing this.

I’m driving myself to the brink of madness.

I sink down next to my bed. My hand reaches behind me until it lands on a bundle of soft material, pulling it down and clutching it to my chest. I inhale the brown sugar sweetness of her scent on the blanket I stole from her room—my reminder of her.

My chest pangs, ringing out in the empty cage that once held my heart.

I want to go find her.

I want to see her.

“Jackson,” Aleks calls out.

I ignore him as I continue to wallow.

“Jackson,” he yells a little louder, his tone curt.

“What?”

He doesn’t reply.

Are you fucking serious right now?

“What?” I shout harder.

Still nothing.

I’m going to strangle him.

I push to my feet, stalking with the wrath of an angry god through the apartment.

“What is it?”

Phoebe perches on one of the bar stools, legs crossed and head tilted as she casts her eyes over me. “Well, aren’t you just a peachy lad?” Her lips twist up in a smirk, and it causes mine to curl.

“Pheebs.” Parker gives her a pleading look.

“What? Looks like you could roast a marshmallow on all the fire coming off him.”

I scoff at her. “You know, Phoebe, you’re here so often, we’re going to have to ask you to start paying rent.”

Phoebe lets out a sigh as she gracefully steps down. She walks over to me with measured steps, heels pointedly clicking on the tiles. She stops three feet away and just stares at me, expression bored.

Seconds pass, and just when I’m about to burst out of my skin, she smiles—but it isn’t a kind smile, it’s that of a deadly shark facing down its prey.

“You know, Jackson, I wouldn’t threaten the person who comes bearing news you so desperately want.”

“What?” All the anger drains from my body, replaced with a rush of desperation.

She smirks, turning her back to me and strolling away, waving her hand lazily in the air. “Contrary to your complaining, I never show up without a purpose. I thought you would know that by now.”

“I don’t care. Did you find Rick?”

She tsks, taking back her seat at the island. “No.” The annoyance is clear in her voice. “Paige is being anal about keeping it all above board, so my hands are tied.”

“Then what’s the news?”

“Well, they were able to raid his apartment before he had a chance to clear it out.”

“And?”

“And it seems like Rick developed an unhealthy attachment to Deer. Based on the files they found and his prior actions, the profilers don’t believe his intention was ever to harm her but more so to scare her into a dependent state and cut her off from the world for just himself. Sort of like a superfan gone wrong.”

“What, they don’t consider the roofies harm?” Aleks scoffs.

She shrugs. “They think it was just another fear tactic, to make it so she couldn’t trust anyone. It backfired when it pushed her to spend more time with Jackson.” She looks me up and down. “He had a lovely picture of you with a dart through it, by the way.”

“Seriously?”

“Mm, quite cliché.” Her lips curl like she just smelled rotten fish. “This guy really is pathetic; it’s doing my head in that he slipped through the Feds hands.”

“Wait,” Aleks frowns. “Could he be coming after Jackson then?”

“Possibly, but probably not. Like I said, the profilers think he’s one of the more nonviolent types. But it’s why we had Sydney ground you boys, just in case.”

“If he fucking tries to come after me, I’ll—”

“Do nothing, because murder charges are a bitch to magically disappear. Not even I have the resources for that. Do we understand?”

“Whatever,” I huff. “So, that’s it? Your news is the confirmation that Deer’s moderator is a delusional, obsessed stalker, who isn’t going to hurt her but maybe wants to hurt me?”

“Yes.”

“No other updates?”

“No.”

“Fuck, are you serious right now, Phoebe?” I run my hands through my hair.

“Watch your tone, Lau.”

“No. You’re telling me that you have no other leads, nothing. My girl is all the way in Ireland, cut off from the world—from me—and I’m stuck here because he’s still on the loose.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Find. Him.”