Page 35 of The Game

“You didn’t win,” I choked through my terror.

“I should have. That bastard cheated me,” the man roared.

Every person who signed up for the game had to respect the outcome, but telling him that would do nothing. He was insane. Properly crazy.

I inflated my lungs to scream again, but he snapped out a hand and clamped it over my lips and nose, cutting off my air supply altogether.

Wild, I fought to breathe, using up precious oxygen as I kicked and bucked to get away. But just like in the warehouse basement, I was powerless. The madman carried me under his arm as if I were a child, back across the car park and towards the shadows.

Fear built in a crescendo. I had no chance if he got me into a car. I had to do something, except my strength was nothing compared to his.

Another awful thought crept in. Why hadn’t I told Malachi exactly what I wanted earlier? Why hadn’t I said yes and told him I needed more? If I didn’t show tonight, he might think I’d got cold feet and left him ahead of our deadline.

Would he even come looking for me?

If he didn’t, I might never escape the madman again.

“Hey! Let her go.”

My vision dimmed, but I craned my neck to find the source of the shout.

A slight figure with a blonde braid sprinted across the forecourt. Maisie? No! Against the insane contestant’s sweaty palm, I silently screamed.

Malachi’s daughter put on a burst of speed. “Put her down. Now.”

“Fuck off, kid.”

On the verge of blacking out, I willed Maisie to back away, but the fourteen-year-old clearly didn’t understand my panicked stare. She rounded us to cut off the man’s flight.

Then she took a breath, positioned her leg back, ducked her weight, and threw a punch in a split second.

It connected with my attacker’s throat.

He stumbled and dropped me.

I hit the ground and sucked in air, consciousness mine once more.

“Quick!” Maisie yelped. “We need to get inside. I knocked my dad out?—”

“You did what?”

“Just move!”

Snatching my hand, she dragged me to my feet. I stumbled but ran with her, back to the gym, with the madman choking and coughing behind us. I didn’t dare peek around to see how near he was, but I sensed his grip almost closing in on me.

Right as we reached the door, Malachi burst out, one hand to his head and his features twisted in panic. He spotted us, and relief crinkled his brow.

Malachi embraced me. I half fell on him.

It was short-lived.

Maisie jabbed a finger. “That fucking asshole had Emmeline. Get him. I’ll call the police.”

He hugged me to his broad body, one hand to his daughter’s shoulder, then he released us both and stalked the way we’d come.

I almost didn’t want to see. Not at the contestant who about-turned and ran. Not as Malachi put on a burst of speed, so obviously on a course to catch him.

I didn’t have to. Maisie guided me inside.

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