The Games We Play

30. Twenty-Nine - Tess

Twenty-Nine - Tess

I dig around in my pocket for my key as I approach my front door. My body hums with a sense of calm and peace. I’m so ready to get out of these clothes, burn them, and take a nice refreshing shower.

I wonder if X will show up tonight? How will he react to my little game from earlier?

I push the door open all the way and take one step inside. I prepare myself for Roxy’s onslaught of wet tongue licks and happy dances to see me. But she doesn’t come to the door.

“Roxy?” I shout through my quiet house.

Whining and scratching come from inside, and I close my door and kick off my shoes. “Did you get yourself locked in the bathroom again?” Every once in a while, she’ll close the bathroom door and have herself locked in there while I’m gone. I try to keep them propped open to prevent that from happening, but I must have forgotten.

I make my way toward the bathroom, only to find the door open.

“Rox? ”

She whines again and scratches.

I rush back into the living room and grab the basement door. The one I keep locked at all times. Her desperate attempts to escape come from the other side, and I turn the handle. She races out of the tiny crack, hunkered down like she’s scared.

What the hell ? How did she get in there?

Roxy shakes, and I crouch to run my hands over her, checking for injuries. She’s shaking, and I try to soothe her while checking the house. X wouldn’t have locked her in the basement…would he?

Everything is exactly how I left it.

“X?” I say into the vacant space, my voice sounding way too loud.

Cold sweat slicks my skin at the thought of someone besides X being in my house. Am I a complete idiot for walking in here nonchalantly?

Of course, you fucking were , I internally scold.

“Oh yeah, now the voice of reason shows up.”

Roxy looks at me and angles her head to the side.

“Yeah, I know. I’m talking to myself,” I whisper.

Footsteps sound from the stairs, and I pull the knife from my boot, waiting for the basement door to open and reveal the person who broke into my house.

“Tess,” a deep male voice says from beside me, and I whirl, nearly tripping over my feet. A man dressed in a fancy-looking suit, complete with dress shoes, stands at the bottom of the stairs that lead to my bedroom. He has a salted black beard and slicked-back hair to match. Tattoos decorate the tops of his hands, and a shiny, expensive watch adorns one wrist.

When my gaze lands on his eyes, my world shifts.

His eyes—my eyes—stare back at me .

“Dad?” I squeak, feeling unsteady on my feet. “What are you doing here?”

He sighs and adjusts the sleeves of his jacket, and sucks on his teeth. “We have things we need to discuss, Pumpkin.”

His nickname for me nearly has me bursting into tears. I should run to him. Hug him. Say, I’m glad to see him…something. But I don’t. Because deep in my gut, this feels wrong.

“I don’t understand,” I say, keeping the couch between us. “When did you get here? Why are you here?”

He strides over, his bulky, muscular frame nothing like what I remember, and sits on the chair across from me. Leaning back, he crosses his ankle over his knee and motions for me to sit on the couch.

“Are you still taking your medication?” he asks as I take a seat.

“Yeah. Every day. Why?” I glance around in confusion. Roxy stays close to my side, her body rigid and alert—nothing like how she acts with X.

“This is a new look.” Dad gestures to my clothing, and I realize I’m still wearing the black makeup and red lipstick. Not to mention I’m covered in…

Oh shit .

Can he see the blood through my black clothing?

“Serial Killer in Whispering Pines has a nice ring to it. What do you know about that?”

Sweat beads at the back of my hairline, and I have to concentrate on not confessing to everything on the spot. “I know that the cops haven’t found any suspects, and we’ve been told not to go out after dark,” I answer .

He says nothing for several minutes, and the silence settles around us. His gaze flicks throughout my house like he’s looking for something he hasn’t found yet. I shift in my seat, and Roxy stays like a statue, not relaxing in the slightest.

“So, are you staying long?” I ask to understand whatever this is. The man across from me looks like my dad, sounds like my dad, but something about him has changed into this cold and meticulous person I don’t recognize.

“Depends on how some things play out.” He pulls a cigarette box from his pocket and holds it out to offer me one.

“No thanks,” I respond, wondering if that was some sort of test to see if I smoke or not. The dad who raised me would be heavily disappointed to find out I did. I can’t do that to him. I could never disappoint him, no matter how many times he’s done it to me.

He shrugs and lights it. Inhaling deeply, he claps his hands together and leans forward to brace his knees on his elbows.

“I think it’s time I let you be a part of the family business, Tess.”

Footsteps creep up behind me, and Roxy stands to face the intruder. Another man in a suit with a consuming build and a bald head moves to stand in front of my door.

“Who the fuck are you? Get out of my house!” I shout and glance back at Dad, who stands like he’s completely at ease. He takes the knife from me and places a hand on my shoulder.

“Easy, Pumpkin. That’s just Victor. He is also a part of the family business and is here to ensure we don’t get… interrupted .” He draws out that last word like he’s insinuating there is something more going on here .

Victor clasps his hands over his crotch and lifts his chin a notch higher as if daring me to challenge him.

I wasn’t planning on it, but now I want nothing more than to knock the fucker down a few pegs.

“And who would interrupt us?” I ask.

Dad chuckles, but it’s void of humor and sends a chill down my spine. “I think you know exactly whom I’m talking about. You wanted to know why I’m here?”

He exhales, and smoke plumes around his features. I reach for Roxy’s collar and pull her close. For the first time in my life, I fear him. The way he’s looking at me, it’s like I’m a problem he has to deal with. It’s the same look he gave Mom.

Like he doesn’t want me or even care that I’m here.

“I’m thinking I shouldn’t give a fuck,” I snap, rage simmering deep in my stomach.

His hand whips across my cheek so hard and fast that I see stars. Roxy lunges, hair raised, barking at the aggressor. Dad kicks out and lands a solid blow to her ribs.

“Roxy!” I cry, holding my cheek, and crawl on the floor to where she whines and cowers under the coffee table. She jumps to her feet and stands beside me, searching the house like she isn’t sure what she should do.

I thought I wanted him, yearned for his return to spend time with me, and simply chose me as his daughter. But if this is the man I get, he can rot in hell for all I care. He isn’t my dad any more than my mother was a mom .

“Let’s try that again, shall we? It’s time for you to grow up and play your part.” Dad crouches before me and lifts his cigarette to his lips. “Now, tell me everything you know about the man behind this mask.”