These Vicious Games (Seattle Undeground)

Chapter 31

“And when her halo broke, she carved the two halves into horns.”

-Jordan Sarah Weatherhead

My head tilts as two guards- that Atticus points out that are paid to not be seen when I asked who they are- roughly push a giant wooden box. “What’s in there?”

If the devil had a smile it would belong to my dark angel himself. “Revenge.”

The guards walk away as I take a step closer to the box, running my finger over the wood and lightly tapping it. It groans, no, someone groans. I jump back, my eyes going to his. “My surprise is a person.”

“Hmmm. Why don’t you go get dressed and meet me in the living room.”

It wasn't a request, a demand. So, I kissed his cheek, walking to the house. Unnaturally giddy with the thought of who is in there.

Dressed in my vintage white dress and nothing more, I meet Atticus in the living room. His eyes light up and he licks his lips, appraising my look before nodding his head for me to follow. He leads me into a room I have never ventured in. And as I peek down the dark hallway before entering, I notice it looks strangely like the dungeon.

And when I turn and look into the room Atticus has led me into, I pause. A sense of shock and horror morphing my face. There are weapons of all varieties. Knives, guns, and honestly, some look out of a horror film. I don’t even know what they’re called.

Katanas. That’s where my eyes land and stay.

“Although katanas are fun, you’ll need a little something for close combat. Like…” he looks around, stopping and grabbing a butterfly knife. “This.” He twists and turns it in his hand.

“Okay…” I take it, giving it a flip and immediately falling in love with it.

Atticus grabs his bow, strapping it to his strong back. Grabbing a knife, he tucks it into one of the pockets of his cargo pants.

I didn't think cargo pants could be hot, but the way they squeeze his ass and thighs makes me a little woozy.

“If you’re done checking me out,” my eyes flash up, and I flush. “We have a hunt to get to.”

He holds his hand out, all big and calloused. I smile, taking his hand in mine and I swear I see a hint of a grin trying to appear on his broody face.

Atticus tugs me through the forest by hand. I’m giddy with nerves as we walk quietly. The only noise is the waves from the ocean and the birds lightly singing as the sun sets. It’s chilly out, making me wish I brought a sweater.

I think back to the first time he made me hunt when I didn't even want to live, how I was ready to give up. How he grounded me, even if it was a little twisted. I feel those emotions now. That feeling that makes me feel alive. As if I’ve come out of the light to play in the dark and I’m excited about it.

Atticus stops, releasing my hand and firing off an arrow before I can blink. I hear a male grunt, followed by a woman's scream.

But something about that scream…

I advance, peeking around the tree and finding a trail of blood, leading off to thick brush. A hand grips mine, pulling me back until I collide with his hard chest. “You stay with me, got that?”

I nod, allowing him to pull me along again. We follow the blood path, the trail of brush that's folded over on itself until I spot them.

Them.

I freeze when I lock eyes with my mom and then slide them over to Atticus’ dad.

“Atticus?”

“Surprise, Little Bird.”

I grip his hand harder, shrinking behind him.

“Look at them, they’re fucking weak. And as long as you're with me, no one will ever hurt you again.”

My eyes sink into the dead ones of Atticus’ dad’s.

Past

“You have a lot of kids, no one will notice if one’s gone.” He says to my mom as I hide behind the couch. Atticus told me to stay put, but I had to go to the bathroom and then they came out of their room and this was the closest place I could hide.

“She’s young.” My mom complains, coughing from one too many cigarettes.

“She’s ripe. Perfect for what this woman wants. She’s offering millions.”

“Millions?” My mom questions. “For her?”

“Yes. Now let’s go to bed. Discuss it in the morning.”

I let out a sigh of relief as I heard their door shut. I begin to stand when a hand grabs me by a fist full of my hair. “Being nosey will get you in trouble girl,” he barks, throwing me on the couch and pinning me to it with his heavy weight.

His knife gleams in the light as he traces it up my arm. “We may lose a few hundred but I think popping your cherry might be worth it, what do you think?”

I squirm, trying to fight him off me but he’s so big and heavy. Tears blur my eyes as he reaches for the hem of my shirt.

I want to scream, but it’s as if fear paralyzed me and all I can do is plead in my head. Looking over his shoulder, I spot my mother, glaring at me in hatred. “Mom,” I whisper, “Help. Me.”

But she doesn't, she watches as he tears my shirt from my body, and as a last ditch effort, I raise my knee, hitting him where it counts.

“You fucking bitch!” he roars, his hand slipping and stabbing the knife into my palm but I don't even feel it as I escape, running to my room and locking the door. I curl up into a ball in my closet. Crying until I fall asleep.

Present

The memories hit me hard, playing in a loop. Every look, every unwanted touch and my fingernails dig into Atticus’ hand as I shake. He looks down, eyes narrowing. “Something you want to share?”

“He…He...” but I can't get it out.

“Shhh. Come on. Let’s end this.”