The Games We Play

37. Thirty-Six - Tess

Thirty-Six - Tess

I wipe the tears in my eyes and slam the car into drive. Inside the paper X gave, with an address scribbled on it, were the keys to his car.

His .

Him.

My brain can’t even make sense of what I saw, like it refuses to believe the truth. But how can I deny it?

It makes sense why Roxy never felt threatened. She was excited to see him that first night he showed up.

Because. She. Knew. Him.

Mr. Collins is X.

Ryan’s dad. All this time at his house, the lake house… I’ve been fucking my best friend’s dad and didn’t even know it.

Holy fucking shit. The tires squeal once I reach the blacktop, and I toss the address X gave me into the passenger seat. I have to make sure Ryan is safe. If Dad makes good on his threat, that’s the first place he’ll go. If he knows who X is, he knows about him. He fucking knew all along. I pull off on the edge of the road and put my best friend’s address in the GPS. I have no idea where I am. The location shows it’s an hour away, and I waste no time stomping on the gas.

My mind spins as I drive down the curvy back roads until, finally, I reach a straight highway. Tears stream down my cheeks at the truth of everything that’s happened. Dad is a monster who was raised by monsters. X—Mr. Collins—is a different breed of monster, and I assume the woman he attacked is someone he worked with or worked for? There are so many questions and things that aren’t adding up.

The overwhelming sense that I just lost X and I’ll never see him has me sobbing. I swerve through the traffic, using the emergency lane more than the normal lanes. A horrible choking sound curls up my tightening throat. I allow myself to feel every emotion I’ve stuffed down since finding Dad at my house. Every slap, every drug, every touch, and every curse word thrown my way twists my insides until it’s ugly and unrecognizable.

Monsters raise monsters, and I’m going to follow in my father’s footsteps.

I drop open X’s glove box and smile when I find a pistol and holster. I place it in the seat and lift the center console to find another pistol plus a knife.

First, I’m going to get Ryan, then Roxy. Last, I’m going to find my father, learn who the bitch was that shot X, and make them both pay for what they’ve turned me into. The driveway outside of Ryan’s is empty. I grab the pistols and rush up to his front door.

“Ryan!” I shout, banging on the door. I glance back at the street. It’s nearly midnight, and everyone else seems asleep. “Ryan! It’s me. Open the door! ”

The lock clicks, and the door swings open, revealing Ryan in nothing but his boxers and squinting at me with tousled hair. “Tess? What the hell are you doing?”

Shoving past him, I slam the door closed and lock it back. “I need you to get dressed. We have to go now. Before my dad shows up.” I walk through the lower level of his house and pull all the blinds closed.

“What? Your dad? It’s fucking midnight, Tess. What the hell is wrong with you? Why do you have a gun? What are you wearing? What happened to your face?”

I flick the deadbolt of the back door closed and huff. “We don’t have the time to dive into any of that. Please go get dressed, and I’ll explain everything.”

He crosses his arms instead of listening to me and stands there. “I’m not going anywhere until you explain what is going on. Are you off your meds? On a bad trip?”

I roll my eyes and shove him back. “No, you fucker! I just—” I can’t cry. Not now. I left all that on the highway. “Please, Ryan. I can’t lose you too.”

His stance softens, and he takes my hand without the gun. “You’re not losing me, Tess. What is this all about? Is it Katie? Tell me. I can help you.”

Those words have me shattering all over again. Here, with Ryan, I’m not the Serial Killer of Whispering Pines or the fiery person whom X brings out. I’m just Tess. Vulnerable and broken.

X—Ryan’s dad.

“I have to tell you something,” I say, my voice cracking. “Your dad—”

There’s a knock at the door, and Ryan stands straight, angling his body toward it .

“No, don’t,” I say, grabbing his arm.

“I’m going to see who is at the door, Tess. Why don’t you go get a glass of water?”

Yanking him back, I aim the gun at the door.

“What are you doing? Are you crazy?”

I don’t waiver from my position. “They’re here to kill you and me. I don’t have time to explain, but whoever is on the other side of that door isn’t friendly.”

There’s another knock. “Ryan? Tess?”

There’s no way .

“It’s just Dad. Give me that so you don’t scare him.” Ryan takes the gun and places it on the table. I stare after him in disbelief. I heard the gunshot as he fell. He’s—Ryan pulls the door open, and Mr. Collins stands there, blood staining his button-down, and his face is pale. My heart stutters in my chest, and I choke out a sigh of relief.

“You’re alive,” I whisper, but Ryan’s shouting overshadows it. “What the hell is going on? Is that blood?”

Mr. Collins leans on the doorway, looking beyond exhausted, and Ryan rushes forward to lift his dad’s arm around his neck.

“Tess! Call 911! Hurry!” Terror fills Ryan’s tone, but I can’t take my eyes off Mr. Collins. It’s like I’m seeing him for the first time. Instead of the mask staring back at me in my fantasy, it’s his face. His hunter, dark green eyes were watching me all those times in my room from the cameras. He was this man who I fought to find in the Haunted Nights. Those lips that I’ve kissed a hundred times. His hands have explored every inch of my body and mine his.

This is the man who taught me how to live.

“No cops,” he says with a wince.

Ryan lays him back on the couch. “What do you mean, no cops? What is going on?”

“I was wondering the same thing.”

That voice. I grab the gun off the nightstand, and I whirl toward the doorway. Dad stands with his gun raised, aimed at my best friend, but his eyes stare at the man propped up on the couch.

“You were supposed to be dead. I watched you die. How is this possible?” Dad says in disbelief.

“The same way I watched you die,” Mr. Collins says with effort as he pushes up to his feet. I have no idea how he's standing.

“Mr. Wallace? What are you—?” Ryan asks, glancing between his dad and mine.

“Doesn’t matter, now,” Dad says, talking over Ryan. “It’s over.” His eyes leave Mr. Collins and land on Ryan. He’s too far away. Ryan doesn’t know who the man staring at him will kill him. And it’s all my fucking fault.

“No!” I scream. Time slows. Everything is frozen as memories of Ryan flash across my mind. His goofy smile. He’s always smiling. I lunge for him. I can’t lose him.

It’s like I’m on the bottom of the ocean, running against the current and sinking in the sand. I have to get to him—I have to save him.

The gun fires, and Ryan’s body jerks at the impact, and he’s falling.

I wasn’t fast enough. I catch him before his head hits the carpeted floor, blood pouring from a wound in the center of his chest.

“No, no, no,” I repeat over and over, pressing my hands to his skin, willing the blood to stop flowing. “Ryan, please, don’t leave me. I can’t—you’re my best friend. ”

Mr. Collins drops to his knees beside me, wraps an arm around my shoulder, and places his other on his son’s cheek.

Ryan’s lips move, but words don’t come out. His eyes bounce around the room until they finally land on me.

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re going to be okay. Just keep your eyes open. I’m right here.” My hand trembles as I push his hair back from his eyes.

Everything is in slow motion as a woman screams, and I look up the stairs at a girl standing in one of Ryan’s T-shirts.

Katie.

Her gaze is locked on Ryan in my arms, and she takes a step forward, but her body flies back, and she lands on the stairs and doesn’t move again.

I turn my head to Dad with his gun aimed at the stairway.

Ryan makes a gargled noise, and I drop my gaze back to my best friend. The sparkle he held for me in his blue eyes all those years is gone. He stares into nothingness. His chest doesn’t rise, and the blood has slowed until it’s barely a trickle down his bare chest. My tears splash on his chest, and I drop my chin.

“I’m so sorry. You always deserved so much better than me.” I trace my fingers from his eyebrows to his cheeks and close his eyes, gently laying his head on the floor. Mr. Collins lets out a shaky breath and slumps against me. The warmth of his blood seeps into my dress, spreading across my side.

So much blood.

So much death.

So much that my father has to pay for.

“To think that could have been avoided if you’d only done what you were told,” Dad states with no emotion .

My hand slides to the floor, and my fingertips brush against the cold metal steel of the pistol. I raise it quickly and aim it right for my father.

Mr. Collins tenses and tries maneuvering me behind him, but he’s too weak.

“It’s me you want, Darius. Let her go. She’s your daughter, for fuck’s sake. Doesn’t that mean anything?” His speech is labored with raspy breaths, but I don’t dare take my eyes away from Dad. He isn’t taking anyone else from me.

“Mom chose death over living one more minute knowing about you. What makes you think I’d be any different?” I snap, shaking with adrenaline and rage.

“And you killed her. My daughter, my flesh and blood, showed her true self at such a young age. You have so much potential, Theresa.” He steps forward.

“No!” I shout, shoving the gun in his direction. “I’m nothing like you! I’d never stand by like you did while those girls were put through hell. I did my mother a kindness because I freed her from you.”

His eyes harden, and his free hand fists at his side. I place my finger over the trigger and take a steadying breath.

This is for Ryan.

For me.

For Mom and Mr. Collins. And poor Katie on the stairs. Love gets you killed—it makes you blind and fucks you over. This is for every woman who was forced to do those things against her will tonight. I will rid the world of this monster and bring his empire to the ground.

Glass shatters behind me, and I squeeze the trigger. Mr. Collins wraps his arms around me and shoves me to the floor, his body covering mine as more gunshots ring out. For a moment, all I hear is my breathing as my cheek presses into the cold tile. Ryan lies beside me, his head rolled to the side, and for a second, I can pretend he’s asleep, and this is all a terrible dream.

But reality crashes around me as a canister bounces across the floor, and Mr. Collins pulls me to my feet, ushering me out the door and to his car.

“You have to drive,” he says as he lets me go to get in the passenger seat.

It’s like my body moves on autopilot as I back out of the driveway of a house I used to sleep over at on the weekends and have pizza and movie nights while snuggling on the couch. In a haze, Ryan waves bye from the porch as I put the car in drive, and the tires squeal as I leave everything I’ve ever known behind.