The Games We Play

33. Thirty-Two - X

Thirty-Two - X

He has her.

He fucking has her ! I shove through the double doors to a room filled with people like me.

Bloodthirsty. Only controlled by money and the to do what they do best.

Kill.

“What the fuck was that, Lima?” A feminine voice shouts above the drove of voices. Everyone quiets and glances in my direction. November steps out from behind two men, her face contorted in annoyance.

“Kill or be killed,” I say with a shrug and regret it as I wince. She glances at my blood-soaked shirt and pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Mallard!” The doc, an older gentleman and someone I might dare to call a friend if I wasn’t worried about him being used against me weaves through the crowd. He gives me a sympathetic look and guides me out of the room. I follow him down a long hallway and into a secluded office, far away from the excitement .

“Let’s see it,” Doc says with a British accent. He’s been around longer than me and the creases around his eyes and mouth show he’s seen more than anyone should in this lifetime. I don’t know what keeps him here; when I asked once, he simply asked what else he should be doing. I thought it was odd at the time, but the longer you’re in this life, the more I realize you can’t get out. It seeps into your bone marrow and is the very essence of your being.

It becomes who you are at your core, and the only way out is death.

I wince as the shirt peels away from the clotting wound. With a gentle tug, Doc gets it off completely and drops it into the incinerator bin.

“Clean through and through,” Doc mutters, and I nod. “Did you get him?”

“Sierra?” I ask.

He nods.

“Nobody inside would’ve survived the blast.” I turn my head away as he threads his needle and starts the first stitch.

He makes an agreeing sound in his throat.

“What’s the chatter, Doc? I need to know what November is planning and what I’m walking into.”

“It’s the annual auction.” He glances at me over the rim of his glasses perched on the end of his nose, and my jaw tenses. The annual auction isn’t full of antiques or high-valued items. What these people auction is something not just anyone can come by.

“He’s going to take her there. She’s going to—” The words get caught in my throat.

Doc doesn’t miss a stitch at my admission. “Her?” he asks.

My hands curl into fists, and my muscles tense .

“I’ve messed up, Doc,” I say with an empty chuckle. “Oh, I fucked up. She’s sunk her claw so deep into me—she’s all I can see. And I brought her into this. How did this happen?” He tugs on the stitch, and I wince.

“Does this have anything to do with the medication you brought me several months ago? Your hobby that you’ve taken on in your free time? The reason we haven’t had any poker games lately?”

He ties off the stitch on the front of my chest and moves to the one on my back.

“I had it all planned out. And eye for an eye. Take something like he took from me. Use her to draw out Darius and finish this once and for all.” I smile at the image of Puppet, bloody and hovering over me, carving her knife through my chest. “The winds shifted, and now she’s my fixation. I can’t shake her, and knowing she’s with him right now and will be his prize this weekend—”

I slam my fist onto the table, and Doc steps back as everything rattles across the top.

“You bust those open, and I won’t sew you up again,” he warns, but I know he’s just trying to take the edge off. “What are you going to do?”

“What November tells me to,” I say nonchalantly and stand. Doc hands me a clean shirt, and I’m careful to put my left arm in first.

“And if your girl is part of that plan?” Doc arches a gray brow, and I slip my head through the fabric.

A hunger stirs deep in my core. The beast that demands to be fed is itching for blood.

“Tell me what you know,” I demand, and Doc nods, walking behind his medical desk and pulling out a drawer. He waves an arm for me to sit beside him in one of the metal chairs .

After pulling a bottle of whiskey and two glasses out, he joins me and pours us both a drink.

“I’ve been in this business a long time,” he says with a sigh. “Never had the stomach to work as a surgeon. I couldn’t handle the look on the family’s faces when you told them you did all you could.” He takes a swig and hisses between his teeth. “You all enjoy taunting death. It’s like you challenge him every day to catch you. Nobody mourns your death, and for the most part, I don’t even know the sorry bastard’s name as he dies on my table.”

I nod and stare at the floor while he talks. He’s right. We aren’t scared to die because, for us, living is so much harder and dangerous.

“I also hear things…rumors and secrets because I blend in with the background. I’m just a quiet doctor who is here to put you all back together with string and staples. Nobody worries about what they say in front of me.” He nudges my foot with his toe, and I look up.

“What are you getting at, old man?” I throw back the contents of my drink and set it on his table. “How is this helping me?”

Doc leans in closer. “Because I know why November wants Darius dead. Darius didn’t call the hit on your brother, Lima.”

My vision goes black, and untamed rage threatens to rip my skin from my bones. Does he know what happened to my brother? November told me it was a planned attack from Darius to get financial records and wipe her accounts.

But the way Doc is looking at me tells me I didn’t look hard enough into the truth, and for one fucking year, I’ve been lied to.

“Doc,” I say, barely constrained. “What the fuck have you been keeping from me? And why are you telling me now? ”

The bastard has the audacity to smile as he leans back, saluting me with his drink. “Because for once, son, you have something to live for, to fight for, and that makes you the most dangerous monster in this place.”

I wait for the shoe to drop, for Doc to tell me this life-altering secret he knows. He downs the contents of his glass and braces his elbows on his knees.

“November is Darius’ sister and wants the family business.”

I roll this information around in my mouth and rub my hands together. “What did that have to do with my brother?”

“He found ledgers, payments she was making to gain the support of others to help overthrow Darius.”

I shrug and sit back, not sure why this is significant. “So, she gave some people money? That doesn’t make sense.”

Doc shakes his head and glances at the door and around the room like he’s worried about someone walking in at any moment. “I never said it was money that she paid with.”

I stare at Doc quizzically. Footsteps sound outside the door, and his brows shoot up. “It’s not safe for you here. You’re the biggest payday November has ever had. At the auction, she’ll make her move and offer you her greatest asset, the one man those bastards hate more than anyone, in exchange for Darius’ head. Perhaps they’ll use you for their own personal gain. Or, like so many others, they’ll take liberty in making you suffer.”

Shaking my head, I stare at the cracks in the brittle concrete floor. She’s selling her hitman to the highest bidder? And she just found leverage against me because Puppet will be there.

“The plan is for them to get his daughter. You might even be the one to do it. Then once she’s ‘ safe ’, November will use her to force your hand.”

I fight the urge to walk out of this room and find the bitch of a woman and put an end to this before it begins. I can find Puppet on my own. I’ll get her out, kill Darius, and beg for her forgiveness.

“I’m getting you out of here,” I tell the old man as I stand, a plan already forming in my mind.

He shakes his head and waves his arms out around him. “I’m not worth the time, son. It’s only a matter of time before my clock stops ticking. But you,” He gives me a soft smile. “You’ve just started to know what living means.”

Emotions I haven’t felt since I was a child with my parents overcome me. I swallow the foreign feeling and stand.

“I think it’s about time you’re done taking orders, son,” Doc says, pulling a gun and ankle holster from under his pant leg and handing it to me.

I nod.

I couldn’t agree more.

***

The last man drops dead at my feet, my knife protruding from his neck. Sorry bastards never knew what hit them. I check my watch. I have two hours before I’m supposed to be in position at the auction. Coming here first was a risk, but I think part of me clung to the hope that Puppet would be here and her father was merely making empty threats.

Roxy barks from the basement, and I step over the body and take the key from the top of the door frame. The moment I swing it open, she leaps out in a frenzy of anxiety and terror .

“Hey, hey. Easy, girl.” I crouch to the floor. “Shh, you’re okay, Roxy. I got you.” She leaps up and plants her paws on my shoulders, her tongue licking up the side of my cheek. Her whimpers turn into excited yaps, and I run a hand down her body. “I’m going to get you out of here, then I’m going to find our girl. Okay?”

She prances in place, then sniffs the air. Her attention lands on the man a few feet away with blood staining the floor around his neck, and she lets out a low menacing growl. I know how she feels. Their death isn’t enough to fulfill the need for revenge for what they’ve done to Puppet.

Roxy’s ear perks, and she races up the steps, barking as she goes.

“Roxy,” I shout, but she ignores me. I chase after her and find her lying on Puppet’s bed, whining as her big brown eyes look up at me. “She’s not here,” I tell her, with defeat in my voice.

I’m shocked at how much that hurts me to say. I’ve never let myself hope, not for anything. But I had hoped—more than hoped—I prayed she would be here when I arrived. I would’ve deserted the mission and taken her away where nobody would find us.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Roxy crawls closer and lays her head on my lap.

I glance at her nightstand and slowly pull the top drawer out, remembering the piece of paper Puppet always pulled out when I watched her fingers trail across her clit.

It’s the note I left her after our first night.

I’ll be watching you , Puppet .

I smile and turn it over, bringing it closer to see the words she’s added to it.

Always .

I inhale deeply once more, imagining her touching this after she’s touched herself. Her soft moans and the way she said my name like it was her salvation.

Turns out I’m her damnation.

My fingers curl around the paper, and it crumples. When I’m done tonight, there won’t be anyone left.

“Come on,” I order Roxy, and she hops off the bed as I stand. “I have to fix this, and I’m going to take you somewhere safe.”