The Games We Play

32. Thirty-One - Tess

Thirty-One - Tess

I never thought I’d fall in love. Thought for sure my fucked-up childhood and lack of nurturing shot that all to hell from the get-go. If I couldn’t fall for my best friend since childhood, who worshiped the ground I walked on, how would I ever let anyone else in?

I couldn’t because my version of love isn’t the one they teach you about in the hallmark movies. My version is dangerous, deadly, covered in thorns, and laced with acid.

My love was planned to kill me from the beginning. But I knew this all along, right?

I accepted that fact the moment I woke up to the note on my nightstand after being chased into the woods.

Dad paces the floor of my living room after disappearing upstairs to look for answers, I assume. He runs his hand through his hair again, showing his clear agitation with my responses.

“I don’t know who he is.” Victor scoffs, and I glance in the burly man’s direction. “I don’t! It’s part of the—”

“Childish fantasy? Fucking a man you don’t know hiding behind a mask? Tell me, Theresa. Do you have a taste for killing? Is it an all-consuming thought that nothing else can top?”

No , because there is one thing , one person who, even killing, can’t get out of my head .

“He—he just showed up. I don’t know where he lives or what his name is. Did you really come all the way here because of him? Not even that you were concerned with your own fucking daughter. But because I might know who he is. Are you—what—after him? Who are you?” My voice grows louder with each question.

Roxy tenses under my hands, and I squeeze her tighter next to me.

“I’m God,” Dad says with a sinister smile, raising his arms out wide. Victor nods in agreement. “I control who lives and dies. I offer people’s salvation or damn their souls to eternity. I’m a very powerful man, Theresa. And I always get what I want.”

A shiver skates down my spine, and I want more than anything to run away from here and not look back. “And you want him? But why? Who is he?”

Dad stares past me out my window, and I wonder for a fraction of a second if he saw something. But his gaze seems far away. Like he’s lost in a memory. “He owes me a life. And you seem to be my ticket to getting it.”

He strides over and grabs my bicep, yanking me up and away from Roxy. “What are you—you’re hurting me!” I shout and try to rip my arm free.

“I’ve been gone a long time, but you’re still my daughter, and you’ll do exactly what I say. Understand?” His cold, dead eyes level me with a stare that would put my worst nightmares to shame .

“Let me go. Dad, please. I don’t want anything to do with whatever this is.”

He pouts his lip in a taunting manner. “Poor, Tess. She’s gotten in over her head, and now she wants to abandon her dear father when he needs her most.”

Fear like I’ve never known races through my veins, but simmering underneath is a wild tornado of rage. I’ve killed people. I’ve made powerful men weep. This is no different. The man gripping my arm is nothing more than another hunt; when the time is right, he’s mine.

What has X gotten me involved in ?

Dad drags me up the stairs and into my bedroom.

“He’ll kill you!” I scream, knowing X will be out for blood. I hope he makes all of them die a slow and painful death. “He’ll come for me.”

“Good. That’s what I’m planning on. You’re going to stay in here. You’ll have guards so that nothing will happen to my biggest accomplishment. I should have brought you into the business long ago. Apparently, you have certain gifts that’ll help me get what I want.”

He tosses me onto my bed and turns to leave. “Roxy!”

Victor shoves his way in, taking Dad’s place. “I’ll take good care of your dog. Just to ensure you don’t try anything stupid.”

Victor closes the door while still inside the room. It’s too small. There’s no escape, and even if I could—Roxy. Dad has her, and I can’t risk him hurting her.

This is X’s fault. Dad’s only here because of whoever he is. But why do I have this overwhelming sense to protect him?

Exactly how fucked up am I? Do I even recognize myself anymore?

I keep my back to Victor as he sits in my desk chair. He moved to block my door. Laying on my side, I stare out my window and pretend that X shows up and kills everyone in this house. Freeing me repeatedly and whisking me away like my own demonic black knight under the cover of shadows.

My imagination gets the best of me about who X is and what my dad wants with him. Better yet, who the fuck is my dad? I feel like Coraline, seeing an alternate version of my life.

Headlights shine across my window, and I jolt up, ignoring Victor’s grunts and frantically unlatching my window. I suck in a lung full of air, ready to scream for X the moment I get the door open, but Victor yanks me back by my waist and hauls me across my room.

Arching my hands behind my back, my thumbs find his eyes, and I plunge them hard as they squelch under my nails. Victor roars, and his arms release me. I vault over my bed and yank the window up. The man below startles and looks up. His clothes are singed and covered in black, and a cynical grin spreads across his face.

It’s not X.

And my gut screams at me to stay away from whoever that is at all costs.

I’m shoved forward from behind, and my head cracks against the window frame, and I stumble. Black spots speckle my vision as I’m lifted off the ground and thrown onto my bed.

“You fucking bitch!” Victor’s hand slams across my cheek, and I easily succumb to the darkness completely.

** *

There’s not a part of my body that doesn’t hurt. Every time I take a stand, Dad has one of his men knock me back down, each time worse than the last. Visions of my mom appear during the hits: her bruised body and tangled blonde hair with dark circles around her eyes.

I blink and realize I’m looking at my reflection in my mirror, holding clean clothes in my hands, with water dripping onto the floor. My guard never leaves. Not even for my shower. I’ve been stripped of my pride, dignity, and my fight. I’ve lost count of how many days it’s been, never knowing if I’ve been unconscious for hours or minutes.

The guard currently sitting in the chair picking his nails with a knife doesn’t have a name, not that I know of, anyway. Tattoos dance up his neck, moving with his muscles when he gets agitated. Like right now, while I’m staring at him blankly. I know I should get dressed. I should care that there is a tree-sized man getting an eyeful, but I’m so far past that. I’m numb again, past the point of pain.

“Dinner is served,” a new voice sings, and Tattoos moves his chair from the door. I walk to my bed and set my clothes down.

“Such a pretty pet,” a low voice draws, and Tattoos grunts. “I’ll take it from here. It’s my turn.”

The way he says my turn has the hair on my nape rising. So far, no guards have tried to touch me. I’m brought food for each meal, complete with a cup of medication, and the cycle repeats itself. I know Dad is keeping me drugged. Logically, that is why I feel like I do and why I can’t stay awake.

But no matter how hard I try, I can’t fight it. I’m too weak. My body complies with their orders.

My door closes, and I slide my arms into my shirt and lift it over my head .

“Ah-ah,” the man tsks, and my shirt is jerked off my arms and tossed to the ground. I cover my breasts and stare at him. I should say something. Anything. Scream. But what’s the point? The bruises prove that nobody here cares what happens to me. I heard two guards whispering outside my door during shift change. Their only orders from Darius are to keep me alive.

The bar for the father-of-the-year-award is in fucking hell with him.

“He’s had his hands all over you, hasn’t he? I bet he’s filled your filthy cunt over and over until it spilled down these delicious thighs.” His hands explore my body, and I turn my head away. Is this how Casey felt the night I killed Brady? Doing whatever she had to to survive?

My skin burns, and bile rises in my throat at the image. I’m nothing like her. I kill monsters like this. Like Seth. No amount of drugs can keep me from who I am.

The man steps closer, his skin nearly flush with mine, his hands rub around my hips to my ass. He drops his head to the crook of my neck, and I let him.

“Yes, he did,” I respond, and he jerks his head back at the sound of my raspy voice. How long has it been since I talked?

His lips curve into a wicked grin. “You were Lima’s little whore, weren’t you? So eager to let him have his way with you repeatedly.”

Lima ? Is that his name? If this man knows who he is, why does Dad act like he has no clue? Unless this man hasn’t told him? But that doesn’t make sense.

“Yes,” I whisper because it’s true. “And I begged for it,” I purr into his ear, and the man shudders .

He lifts me by my ass, and I wrap my legs around him for leverage. “Now you’re my pet. An obedient bitch that will do whatever I say since you need a new master.”

Terror lances through my chest. Is he saying X—Lima—is dead? No, that can’t be. If he were, Dad would forgo this maniac quest and kill me, at least. The only reason I’m here is to get to X. So he isn’t dead. He can’t be.

I reroute my thoughts and put my plan into action. “This stays between us,” my breath blows against the shell of his ear. “Nobody here can know.”

His hardening erection pushes against my center, and I want to chop it off. I will. My list of people who I want to kill is growing, and this fucker just got second place. The first is reserved for Daddy dearest.

“Then I’ll have fun as you try not to scream.” He bites my neck, and I hiss at the harshness.

Sliding my tongue up his ear, I graze the shell with my teeth, then I clamp down hard and lock my jaw. The bastard shoves me away, slinging me onto the bed. He cries out in pain, cradling the side of his head as blood runs through the creases of his fingers.

My door flies open, and two guards rush in, followed by Dad. His brows raise, and his nostrils flare as he glances between me and his lackey.

I spit the ear from between my teeth, and it lands with a thud at Dad’s feet. Blood dribbles down my chin and onto my chest, but I don’t wipe it away. I lay there, naked for everyone to see, so they’ll know how psychotic I am and not to fuck with me.

“Take Scott downstairs and, for fuck’s sake, get him cleaned up,” Dad orders. “Dumb bastard,” he mumbles under his breath .

Laughter bubbles up my chest as the guards stare at me. I can’t help it when Dad has to shove them both to get them to respond. Full, maniacal laughter fills my room as everyone leaves.

Dad grabs something off the food tray and strides to the side of my bed. He grips my cheeks and drops the cup of pills into my mouth, then closes it and pinches my nose, forcing me to swallow.

“Your mom would be proud. You have her fighting spirit. It didn’t do her any good in the end when you killed her, though, did it? You will do as I say, Theresa. Don’t forget, I have your precious Roxy locked up. Or maybe I should visit Ryan? How is he doing these days?”

He shoves me back as he releases my mouth, and I stare daggers at him. I imagine at least fifty different ways I could kill him before he ever reaches my door.

“Such a waste,” he tsks before closing the door and retreating down the stairs.

Ryan . I can’t let anything happen to him. He doesn’t deserve any of this.

At least I’m alone now. I fall asleep knowing X’s name.

Lima .