Page 6 of The Games We Play

“Not yet,” I say aloud to the dead of night. If I were smart, I would’ve started this game when I had time to do exactly what I wanted. But my puppet will have plenty of time to think about what is coming from us. And when I get back…I’ll show her just how hellish I can be.

Stuffing the mask in my pocket and pulling my hood over my head, I hide my identity from anyone who might drive by.

Our little games are really going to fuck with my sleep schedule, but I can’t wait until I’m standing back outside her house and see those pretty little lips of her part with a gasp.

Then I’ll pull a moan from deep in her core and claim what is mine, what I’m owed.

For months, I’ve waited…debated on what I was going to do under the circumstances I was given. Tonight, with one look in her fiery eyes, the decision was made.

And I’ll be the thing that damns her soul to hell.

Four - Tess

“What the fuck happened?”I groan and roll over to my side. Daylight pours through my bedroom window, and I squint, glancing around my room.

My room.

Did I do something stronger than my usual last night? My head feels like a fucking bowling ball is bouncing off my skull. Roxy jumps up into my bed, unaware of what a hangover feels like, and licks me in the face.

“Weird fucking dream…” I fall back into my pillow and place my forearm over my eyes. I drank way too much and must have passed out. I’m surprised I got myself to bed. Whipping the covers back, I notice I’m wearing a silk tank and matching shorts.

Okay?Drunk me, got myself to bed, and changed my clothes?

Roxy barks at me, and I groan. “Rox, not so loud.” She whines once, then jumps down, waiting for me to follow. I reach for my nightstand, for my phone, but my hand lands on a piece of paper atop the empty charging plate.

I’ll be watching you,Puppet.

I bring the paper closer and read it over ten times. My breaths quicken, and I glance around my room for any other sign that last night wasn’t a dream and was actually very real. I jump from my bed and quickly pick my feet up at the odd sensation under them. Sitting on the bed, I cross my legs and inspect the bandages on each arch. Patches of blood have soaked through, and I cringe at the memory of stepping on something sharp in the woods.

I was running…from him. And he got into my house. He found me.

I rush to the basement door and jiggle the handle, making sure the key is where it belongs. My fingers graze the metal atop the frame, and the knob is locked like it always is. Everything is as it should be.

The last thing I remember was hiding from him. Did he find me? Change my clothes? Did I pass out?

I try to convince myself that drunk me also wrote a fucking note that, at the time, I thought would be a funny joke. I know better, though.

Roxy barks again, and I hiss at her to hush. My muddled brain tries to make sense of everything that happened—or may not have happened. I carefully check the rest of the house. The television is on but muted. I find my phone on the couch and have five missed calls from Ryan.

I feel like it was an out-of-body experiment. I could have smoked something laced and had a really, really bad trip. A knock sounds on the door, and I jump, grabbing the lamp nearest to me and pulling the plug from the wall. Roxy whines and scratches at the door, and I hold the handle.

One, Two, I rip the door back and lift the lamp over my head.

“What the hell?” Ryan stumbles back, raising his arm in defense of his perfect jawline. I lower the lamp and scan the yard for anyone else thatcould be lurking. His note said he’d be watching me, and I don’t doubt it. “Tess?” He steps into my view and pulls the lamp from my hold. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah…the uh, bulb blew, and I was going to change it.”

He arches his brow and glances at the lamp. “You needed the whole lamp to change a bulb?”

“Yup,” I pop thePand grab Roxy’s leash off the hook. “I need to take Roxy out.” I’m aware of Ryan watching me, but he’s not the cause of my hair standing on end.

I constantly scan the streets and other houses for a lurking masked fiend. Ryan wouldn’t believe me if I told him. Or he’d say I asked for it with the way I’ve been acting and just tell me for the hundredth time that therapy could really help.

Well, excuse me if I don’t want to sit and tell someone about my feelings and all the ways I know I’m fucked up. Roxy is quick to do her business and I find Ryan plugging my lamp back in and turning it on.

“Your bulb seems fine. Could be a loose wire,” he offers with a shrug.

“Oh. Great.” I stand with my arms folded and shifting my weight.

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