Page 1 of The Game

Chapter 1

Emmeline

“I overheard a conversation this morning. Two colleagues were talking about,” I paused, trying to frame my sentence, “an interesting dating experience.”

In the upmarket bar along the street from my hospital, the air was filled with gentle conversation, and the décor was pretty autumn leaves in orange and red tones. Not the vibe for the violent and depraved act I had been thinking about all day.

Perched on a velvet bar stool beside me, Annie, my best friend, sipped her cocktail. “Like speed dating?”

“Not exactly. It’s…how do I put this, a little more brutal than that. At least, I believe so.”

This gained her full attention. “Brutal? How?”

My pulse quickened. “I was in the doctor’s lounge midway through my shift. Two guys from orthopaedics were at the coffee machine, discussing a patient who’d suffered a badly broken arm. He’d been in a fight over a woman, but it was no casual brawl. They described a kind of contest, right here in this city. It’s physical. There’s chasing involved. The men hunting the women.”

Annie uttered a tinkling laugh. “I know the dating scene is rough, but that’s ridiculous. Why would you run from the man trying to impress you?”

I tried to condense what I’d learned from my eavesdropping and dropped my voice to a whisper. “It’s an event, according to what the patient told my colleagues. Twenty men and five women are locked in a warehouse basement together. The men are caged, and the women barefoot. A siren sounds, and they let the men out. You run. They chase you and fight to keep you.”

Annie’s mouth fell open. “I’m sorry, what?”

“The men compete for the women, and the last man standing gets to take home the prize of the willing woman he beat the others to a pulp over.”

She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “That’s horrible.”

Guilt pricked my skin. She was right. Wasn’t she? Except the concept had captured my thoughts and wouldn’t let go. “It’s certainly unique.”

“And the patient who described it was injured during it?” She gave a dismissive snort. “Sounds like a court case waiting to happen and an excuse for men to be awful. Honestly, the things people come up with.”

I took a gulp of my cocktail, draining the glass, but didn’t reply.

Annie’s eyes narrowed. “Wait. Please don’t tell me this interests you?”

I signalled the bartender with my raised glass to indicate I wanted another and eyed my friend. “One more?”

“I shouldn’t. Josh doesn’t like me to get sloppy drunk.”

“You’ve had one raspberry daiquiri.” The bar’s special as the colour matched their seasonal aesthetic.

She pulled a face. “We’re spending the weekend with his parents. I need to be firing on all cylinders if I’m to survive the bombardment of criticism over why Samuel isn’t top of his class again this year, if Mathilda will need a nose job, or whether I should be looking at extra tutoring for Demi.”

“Your youngest is three.”

Annie rolled her shoulders then turned to the waiting bartender. “Just a pink lemonade for me, thanks.”

My bestie had married straight after graduation from medical school where we’d been housemates, and where we’d propped each other up after gruelling tests and never enough sleep. But where I’d started a career, she’d done the opposite and became a trophy wife. Smart, beautiful, and dutifully popping out kids for her politician husband.

From living a shared experience, our lives had diverged completely.

We were thirty-five now, and I was at the point where I could potentially be made consultant within a few years. I’d worked so hard for the chance. It would mean an overwhelming change to my working life where twelve-hour shifts were typical and overtime a regular occurrence. I’d keep office hours instead.

I’d have space to breathe.

Maybe even to find someone after years of failed short-term relationships where I was never able to give a fair share of my time to any boyfriend. If I had to admit it, I was lonely. I loved my job, but I wanted a person to come home to after a busy shift. Someone who cared and who was waiting for me. A big man whose arms I could fall into.

Hot sex against the wall of my apartment wouldn’t go astray either.

That was probably why the dating game appealed so much. A polite relationship didn’t interest me. It would take too long to develop. I wanted something different. Everything about my life was so orderly and well-planned. Just the idea of experiencing lust and sex outside of that was heady and addictive.

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