The Games We Play

8. Seven - Tess

Seven - Tess

The autumn breeze hits my skin, and my nipples pebble immediately. I draw my gaze up from the Vans standing on my porch. I frown. I preferred the boots. His jeans aren’t filled out like they were the night in the woods, either.

Trick of the light , maybe ? I mean, I was running for my life. Can I really trust my memory? I had drunk…a lot.

I take a step back when I reach for his T-shirt that isn’t hugging refined, toned muscle.

This isn’t my stranger…but who is it?

My gaze settles on his face, with his left eye still black and yellow from the healing bruises. I slam the door closed, but not before Seth wedges his foot between the frame. He forces it open with his hand and steps inside.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, grabbing a pillow on the couch to cover as much of my front as possible. “Get the fuck out!” I snap.

“You called me?” He arches a brow and rakes his gaze over me .

“What? No, I didn’t. You told Professor Brady, I fucking cheated like a toddler throwing a tantrum because you got your ass kicked. Now I have to retake a whole new exam.”

“If you didn’t want to let me taste that magical pussy of yours, why did you call me?” he snaps. Acting as if I’ve caused him an inconvenience.

My head spins. Then, it registers what he is actually saying.

“The note on my car…that was you? You’re him?” There is no way this is him . It can’t be .

“Who else?” he asks and takes a step closer, reaching up to caress my cheek. Something’s wrong. It all feels wrong. It isn’t him. He can’t be him. My body revolts at the idea as he reaches for my features.

“I want you to leave.” With my change of tone, Roxy walks around the couch and stands by my side.

“You’re such a fucking tease. First, you’re messaging me for the past year, then I give your sorry ass a chance at the party just to get this—” He waves a hand around his bruised face. “Now, once again, you call, I show up, and you think you are just going to make me leave?”

I grip the pillow in front of me and take another step back. “This is my house,” I say, but my voice wavers slightly. “I want you to leave. Now.”

“No. I think I’ll stay. Your boyfriend isn’t here to stop me this time.”

I drop the pillow and spin on my heel, racing for the stairs to get my phone. Seth grabs my hair and jerks me back to him. “Where do you think you’re going?” He gropes my breast roughly, his touch feeling like acid.

“Let me go,” I demand, writhing in his hold to break free. Roxy’s frantic barks fill the room, but Seth is undeterred. He fists my hair with one hand and moves the other down my body until he’s dipping them between my thighs. I whimper at the invasion of his fingers stroking across my clit and hate that my body responds to his touch even though I want to vomit.

His cock presses into my ass through his jeans, growing harder with my fight.

“Is this what you get off on?” I say through clenched teeth. “Your women fighting to break free and to get away from your disgusting ass?”

He yanks my hair harder, and I cry out from the strands being ripped at the roots. “Shut up. You asked for this. You are practically begging for it.”

He grabs my wrist and pins it behind my back, shoving me forward until he has me face down on the couch, his hand firmly pushing down on my spine. He holds me with so much force I can’t turn my head. The cushions muffle my screams.

Nobody will hear me.

I plea for Roxy to bite him, something, piss on him if that gets him to let go. Praying to the God who’s abandoned me time and time again to save me. To stop this nightmare.

His cock rubs across my ass, and I tense, hoping it’s all over quickly. Then he’ll leave. My tears soak into the fabric, more from embarrassment that this is happening and I’m too weak to fight it. My shoulder screams in pain, but I close my eyes and pretend I’m anywhere but here.

He forces my legs wider, and I know what’s about to happen. Nobody can hear me. I can’t breathe, suffocating while he is forcing himself on me.

Nobody is coming. This is what Ryan warned me would happen. I only have myself to blame.

My body tenses as he forces his dick inside me. Even though I know it’s useless, I try to break free. I kick my legs, pushing and pulling against his grip. My throat burns from my screams as he pulls out of me and thrusts back in again.

I asked for this; he said earlier. I did. I sent messages asking him to come over. I called him. Now I want to die more than I ever thought possible.

Roxy stands off to the side, barking, but she sounds so far away. I want to reach out, stroke her hair, and tell her I’m okay…but I’m not. My pulse thumps in my ear, muffling out Seth’s moans as he slams into me again and again, my cheek chafing against the rough fabric of the couch.

I just want it to end. I want everything to end.

He mumbles something as his hot cum shoots up my back. My body shakes from the assault, but he doesn’t let go; he doesn’t pull out.

Wait.

It can’t be his cum… He’s still inside of me?

His hold releases and my arm falls back to its normal position. His cock slips out of me so fast I whimper in pain. He touches me, and I swing out at him to get away, my hands shaking as I push up to stand.

Death . I want to die. I want him to die.

My hair falls into my face, and I walk toward the stairs, where I keep my razor blades.

“Puppet,” a male voice says, and I freeze. Not any voice… his voice .

What is he doing here ? Why now ? Will he be as disgusted with me as everyone else ?

Boots come into my view on the floor in front of me. I lift my eyes to his legs and stop at the knife clutched in his left hand. Blood drips from the tip into a pool around my feet. I lift my toes, and it makes a suction sound. “Look at me,” he says with more authority this time.

I blink up at him. A black mask with neon blue X’s for the eyes hides his features. I’m thrown into the moment of my surroundings. Seth’s body lays behind me, his throat sliced and eyes lifeless. His pants are around his ankles, and his limp cock droops to the side. I reach over my shoulder and run my hands through the drying, thick liquid on my back. Red stains my fingertips, and I look back at my stranger.

“Nobody touches what is mine. He deserved so much worse.” The masked man reaches a hand out to cup my cheek, and I shy back. “Don’t hide from me, Puppet. Go upstairs. Get cleaned up. I’ll be right there to rid you of the nightmares this boy has created.”

What is his ? Me ? My body obeys, while my mind is a blank canvas of brokenness. He doesn’t want me. How could he?

His hand falls away, and I robotically walk upstairs, turn on my music, and sit on the tiled shower floor. A wet nose presses against my hand, and I run my hand over Roxy’s fur as she snuggles closer to me. Her body shakes, and I tell her it’ll be okay even though I don’t see how it ever will be. I sit there so long my butt goes numb. I should turn the water on and wash the blood off my back and the sticky cum from between my legs. But I can’t move.

Did he leave me? Decide that I’m not worth the life he took?

Seth is dead. My masked stranger in a neon X mask killed him in my living room after he —

A feather-light touch ghosts my shoulder, and I shudder. Roxy disappears from my side, and I look up. He still wears the mask, and dried blood covers his hands.

He crouches beside me, pinches my chin, and turns my head side to side like he’s inspecting me. “Are you hurt?” he asks, his tone sharp and emotionless.

Am I ? “Physically, no.”

“Good. I should punish you for entertaining someone else. You’re mine, Puppet. Perhaps I haven’t made that clear enough.”

I shiver and blink back, the tears threatening to spill over my cheeks. Biting on the inside of my cheek.

“I thought it was you, you ass,” I snap. Anger burns through the hopelessness I was feeling.

He scoffs and turns the shower on. The frigid water pelts my skin before it turns warm, then finally hot.

“Stand and wash while I watch,” he orders.

With arms folded, he leans on the vanity and does just that. He watches my every stroke, every soap suds sliding down my body. When I arch my back to rinse my hair, I spot the bulge in his pants. He doesn’t move from his stance, though, as if he enjoys the torture of being teased.

“I’m offended you thought I needed permission to come see you. To be invited inside this house.”

I glare at him through the steam filling the bathroom. The water turns from hot to cold, and I step out, a puddle pooling around my feet. It reminds me of the puddle of blood downstairs, and I get lost in the vivid image of Seth’s dead body.

“Puppet,” he says, his voice softer than when he first came upstairs. “Come.” He leads me with a hand on the small of my back to the middle of my bedroom. He stops, and Roxy lifts her head off her paws and watches us. “Let me help you.”

He takes care as he pulls a shirt over my head and my underwear up my legs. His hands spread around my hip bones, and I suck in a breath.

“I didn’t want him,” I state evenly. Why I care what this man thinks is beyond me. But I do. And I need to make sure he understands I didn’t call Seth…well, not intentionally.

“Hmm.”

“I thought you left a note on my car,” I whisper, and his hands ghost my arms until he takes my hand and leads me to the bed.

“I don’t knock,” he states as I climb into the bed, dazed and confused. I’ve barely had time to process the fact that I was just raped. Had a man murdered in my house, and now my stalker is…tucking me in? I need my medication reevaluated. “As punishment for disobeying me, I’ll be gone for a while.”

His words hurt, and I immediately sit up. “What? No—I—” He gently pushes my shoulder down to the bed and pulls the cover back up.

“Goodnight, Puppet. And remember what happens to those who touch what’s mine. I’m sure you don’t want to be in this situation again.” He steps toward the door, and my eyes narrow.

“Situation? I was fucking raped. I’m sorry that was so hard for you!” Rolling over, I give him my back. A child’s move…maybe. But my body hurts, and I’m so exhausted. I’ve had rough sex before, enough to leave bruises. If I tell myself that’s all it was with Seth, I won’t feel the truth of it.

“See you soon. Oh, and don’t tell anyone about this. For obvious reasons.”

My door closes, and I want to throw the closest thing I can to get my hands on. I should cry, sob uncontrollably, react somehow about what happened with Seth. He’s fucking dead. His lifeless body was on my floor. But all I feel is annoyance and longing for the stranger who just left. I’m pissed above all else. My blood boils, and my skin is hot with rage at what has just happened.

What the fuck is wrong with me?