Page 16 of The Games We Play

After checking the shower, I glance around and note the only space left is the small closet near the entrance of the room. I brace my back on the wall and push it open a crack. The dim lighting is enough to show the target’s body strategically poised with ropes tied to the hanging rack.

Like a puppet master holding his hand up, one in a waving position, the other on top of his head.

Rage courses through my system. Someone knew about our target. Someone else didmyjob. I snap a picture of his face and send the message, letting the boss know someone beat us to the punch.

Not only that, but they took my pay and cost me on this trip.

It’s not uncommon for a person to hire two different services to solve a problem. In the end, someone loses. It simply doesn’t happen tous.

I take my time checking the hotel for any clues about who was here, not risking staying too long and having someone stumble upon me.

Talk about the wrong place, wrong time.

Whoever did the job was efficient. There’s not a blood trail to show where the target was killed or a sign of struggle. Likely poison.

I close the door behind me, the mechanic keypad whirring locked, and step back into my room before getting noticed.

An uneasy feeling coats my skin as I strip out of the uniform and pull on my clothes. The other person got close to me, too close.

My phone rings, and I answer without looking at the number.

“Confirm the target was compromised,” it says in a robotic tone.

“Confirm,” I respond and am met with a click of the line disconnecting. That one word is like acid on my tongue because I didn’t get paid for this kill, and I will find out who overstepped on my hunt.

Nine - Tess

Something startles me awake.I peel my cheek from the open textbook. I fell asleep reading in my bed. I check my phone to see it’s barely four in the morning. It’s been a week since Seth showed up here. The cops asked questions around campus. Apparently, they found a note claiming he left to explore his options in life. His parents clearly don’t believe it, but the cops seem inclined to when no further information comes about.

Professor Brady waived the whole test debacle. Claiming he just couldn’t imagine putting a student through something with no evidence it was true.

It was odd, but I wasn’t about to question it.

Rolling over, I place my phone on its charger and close my books and laptop, setting them on the floor. I grab my blanket and pull it up to my face, but it’s ripped from my hands. I scream, flashes of every horror movie playing in my head. A deep chuckle comes from the foot of my bed, and I make out the figure ofhim.

He’s wearing the same dark black mask that covers his entire face.

“Who are you? How did you get into my house?” I removed my spare key after he left, punishing me bychoosingto stay away.

With a click, his mask lights up. Neon blue Xs are the eyes, and a smiling mouth with what poses as stitching as if it’s sewn shut is all I can see. I wait for a response, but I don’t get one. The mask blinds me from anything else in the room, like a spotlight shining directly on me. He grabs my ankles and yanks me toward him. I try to kick free, grabbing at the bed to pull myself away.

“Are you going to fight me tonight, Puppet? After you were so willing to get fucked at the party. I didn’t expect you to care who you spread these beautiful legs for.”

I freeze. He was at the party? He saw everything between Ryan, Seth, and me? Did I look at him and not even realize who he was? His words land a punch to my stomach, and my hackles rise to fight back.

“You know nothing about me,” I spit and reach up to grab the mask. His hands tighten around my ankles until it’s painful, and I fall back into the bed, trying to find relief.

“I know with one touch, you’ll be soaking wet for me.” He clasps his hands under my knees and pulls me down until my legs spread around him, my ass flush with the edge of the bed. His jeans scratch the inside of my thighs, his belt digging into my thin cotton shorts against my center. He’s not wrong. My body responds to his touch, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s right.

“You left. What makes you think I want anything to do with you?” I growl, clawing at the slightest bit of repulsion for this man to cling to.

I dig my nails into his forearms until I draw blood. He hovers over my body, his mask inches from me. I don’t back down; the blue linespermanently brand into my vision when he moves his attention to my breasts spilling out of my tank top.

“Hmmm,” he hums, and my nipples pebble. My entire body betrays me. “You’re my slut now. I’m the only man you’ll be spreading these legs for or baring your pussy too, understand?”

“Fuck you,” I snap. Totally losing all sense of self-preservation. This man is here to kill me. Why else would you be sneaking into my house and stalking me? It’s all a game of fascination, and when he’s over it, my life will end… just like he killed Seth. He did it with such ease. I bet there is a list of names he’s taken attached to his damned soul.

He chuckles, and there’s madness in it that flips my stomach. Leaning back, he runs a finger along the inside of my leg, avoiding my center and tracing down the other one. My toes curl in anticipation of him touching me, and I bite the inside of my cheek to stave the craving.

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