Page 65 of The Games We Play

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.”

Thirty-Three - Tess

Dad sits next tome in the backseat of his car, filled with men who have more guns than I can count concealed on their persons. They regard him with an air of royalty. Like anything my dad says, is the end all be all and equivalent to the gospel.

He is their messiah, and it’s scary as hell to watch how they don’t second guess an order.

If he told them to shoot me in the head at this very second, they would. And I’d be dead.

I always end up dead.

No matter how many scenarios I play through.

I. End. Up. Dead.

He’s after X tonight. I don’t know why or how he knows him at all.

It wasn’t until blood poured from my split lip by Victor that Dad realized I didn’t have the answers he wanted and finally believed me when I saidI didn’t know who he was.

My lip is still tender, and that wastwo days ago.

Five days of being trapped in my house with Roxy at my dad’s mercy. Scott didn’t return after I bit out a chunk of his ear. He sits across from me now, studying me with a chilling calm. His ear is bandaged still, but his long, shaggy hair almost hides it.

My body feels heavy. With all the sedatives Dad has been feeding me, I can barely hold my eyes open and focus. Dad’s knee bounces beside me, and he checks his watch periodically. He seems…on edge. Which is so far from the controlled man I’ve been around this week.

This morning, he barged into my room and told me we were going to a party, and I needed to look the part. He laid a dress on my bed, complete with what I can only describe as a collar and leash.

Now in the car, Victor holds the end of my leash in one hand while a white, diamond-studded collar sits around my neck.

Whoever this man is isn’t my dad, and I’m long past trying to plead with the monster. Maybe he never was, and I was too young and naïve to see it before.

When the timing is right, he’s going to learn that I’m not the daughter he thought I was. The image of his blood painting the floors and walls keeps me going.

The car rolls to a stop. Dad and his men adorn their features with masks, and he slips one over my face as well. It’s black, topped with lace, and covers from my nose and down the right side, conveniently hiding the bruises my makeup couldn’t.

Dad’s men get out of the car first without a word. Victor tugs on the leather strap attached to my throat, and I’m forced out of the car.

A long, form-fitted red dress hugs every curve of my body and dips to my naval. X’s mark is on full display with the strapless ensemble. Dad was delighted when he found it and connected the dots.

“Remember, you don’t want anything to happen to Roxy or Ryan,” Dad whispers in my ear as he buttons his suit jacket.

Clenching my jaw, I nod as Dad takes my leash, and we walk up the carpeted stairs to the biggest house I’ve ever seen.

---