Page 8 of Wicked Games

Silence hangs in the air as the boy considers my words. Finally, he sighs, defeat clear in his voice. “Do what you have to do. But remember, I won’t be the one to forgive you.”

I’ll make his death as painless as I can, not just for my sake, but for the girl who will have my children, my brother’s children, and make our house a home. I step toward him and turn him back to face the river. “It’ll burn an I’m sorry for dat.” I drop him to his knees and plunge his head under the water. The boy thrashes back and forth, the water bubbling from his screams. His nails claw at my hands to break my hold and release him. I hold all my weight over him and after a few minutes, he goes limp under me.

I release my grip on the boy’s lifeless body and stand up, taking a moment to catch my breath. The rushin’ waters of the waterfall drown out the sounds of my heavy breathing, creating an eerie backdrop to the gruesome scene before me.

At least I didn’t make him suffer. Not like his father and not like Wilder did his stepmother. What I did was the kinder way to go.

I bend down and pick up the boy’s body. I can’t help but feel a mix of relief and guilt. Relief that I’ve done what needed to be done, that I’ve ensured the girl is now ours, but guilt that I have probably killed the one person she cared for most. Deep down, I know she’ll never forgive me for this.

I make my way back towards the campsite, where Wilder has the girl and the other bodies waiting for me. I hope that in time, she will find solace and happiness with us, despite us taking her this way.Time heals everything, right?

My watch reads just past midnight as I get closer to the campsite. I can smell the smoke from the fire. Wilder must have fed it when he got back. A blood-curdling scream pierces the air, and I break into a sprint. The boy’s body flops in my arms. As I approach, I see da girl lying on her side near the edge of the fire, her eyes filled with fear. I scan the area and see the bodies of her father and stepmom in a heap. Her eyes look up to me and she cries.

“Ethan! No…Why! Why’d you have to kill him? I said I’d do whatever you wanted. Not my baby brother.” Her wailing hits the deepest parts of my black soul.

I gently lay the boy down on a blanket and reach out to her, my hand trembling slightly, and she jerks away. “I’m sorry for everyting you’ve been t’rough tonight,” I say, my voice filled with genuine remorse. “But I promise you, my brother an I’ll take good care of you. I made dat promise ta your brother before he drowned.”

She looks at me for a moment, searching my eyes for any sign of deceit. “You better keep that promise. Or I’ll kill you myself,” she whispers, her voice dripped with disdain.

I nod, understanding the weight of her words. “I will,” I assure her, my voice firm with determination. “You’ll be our woman and have our kids. If you do da simple tings we ask of you, we won’ have no reason to hurt ya.”

The girl’s eyes narrow as she stares at me, her gaze filled with anger and fear. I can see the fire burning within her, a determination to protect herself. I like that kind of fire in a woman. Her skepticism of the promise I’ve made, I understand completely. But deep down, I know that I have no choice but to keep my word.

I take a step closer to her, my voice softening as I try to convey sincerity. “I know it’s hard ta trust me right now, given the circumstances,” I say, my voice laced with genuine remorse. “But I swear ta you, my brother and I will do everyting in our power ta take care of you. We wanna create a home, a family where you’ll be safe an loved.”

Wilder walks over from the tents. “Who we are an who we need to be to survive are two very different tings, chére. We kill because that’s jus who we are. Da way God made us. But we need you ta survive. It ain’t right for a man ta be lonely.” He kicks at the dirt at the edge of the fire pit, hands in his pockets.

Her silence speaks volumes, her eyes betraying her lingering suspicion. More hesitantly this time, my trembling hand reaches out once again. With a tender gesture, I sweep her dark brown hair away from her face, allowing me to gaze into her warm brown eyes. “I can’ change what we done, and I can’ bring your brother back,” I continue, my voice filled with sadness. “But I promise you, we’ll bury him in da family cemetery and you can visit him as often as you like.”

Her gaze softens slightly, but the pain is still evident in her eyes. She takes a deep breath, her voice trembling with vulnerability and determination. “I don’t know if I can trust you,” she whispers, her voice wavering.

I nod, understanding the weight of her words and the importance of gaining her trust. “We’ll show you,” I reply, my voice filled with conviction. “Actions speak louder den words, and we’ll prove ta you we can create a safe and loving home for ya and our future children.”

“We gon make ya fall in love wid us, chére.” Wilder’s eyes crinkle at the edges. The damn idiot got a big ass grin under his mask.

She hesitates for a moment; her gaze searching mine once again. “Okay,” she says, her voice soft. “But remember, if you break your promise, I’ll fight back.”

I nod, acknowledging the gravity of her words. “I understand,” I say, my voice filled with sincerity. This girl is young and impressionable. It’s not gonna take much to mold her into what we need her to be.

“Can I see your faces?” She asks as I bend down to untie her legs so she can walk.

I hesitate to answer. She’s gonna have to see our faces at some point. “When we get home, chére. Let us get cleaned up and you. Then you can see us.”

“Wild, you wanna take 'er back and get 'er situated and I’ll deal wid all dis?” I motion to the bodies and camp gear.

“Mmm hmm. We’ll see you at home.”

Chapter 7

Marlowe

Wild stays beside me as the other man dismantles the tents. “What about my stuff? Clothes, those kinds of things. I’m gonna have nothing.” I look up at the man before me and take him in. Wild, if that’s even his name, has bleached blond hair, and hazel eyes that look more green in the firelight. He looks strong, and at least six feet tall. And he’s a murderer.

My eyes drift back over to my father and stepmother dead bodies. My heart hurts for losing my father…not so much my stepmother. Then, turning my head, I look at Ethan. My lower lip quivers as I take in his face. He’s not bloody like our parents. The man looks over his shoulder to where my eyes stay focused. He takes a deep breath before speaking.

“We may be killer’s chére, but we ain’t liars.”

Wild helps me regain my balance as I try to steady myself. The events of the past few hours swirl in my mind, making it hard to focus. I take a deep breath, trying to collect my thoughts.

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