Page 7 of The Game

Which gave me just enough time to put my thoughts to rest. There were too many people here for this kind of conversation, so I snuck outside and took a walk down the busy city street outside the hospital.

My call was answered on the first ring.

It was a Scottish voice, the man who’d interviewed me whose name was Shade. Or his gang name, more likely.

“Ms Watts. I’m glad to hear from ye.”

“Thanks for taking my call, Mr Shade. There were a couple of things I wanted to ask.” I stifled my nerves. “The last part of the game… We didn’t get to the end of the rules.”

“Aye, we didn’t. Ye know how it starts. Once a man has chosen his lass, he fights off all others to claim her.”

“What does that mean exactly? The claiming part.”

His tone took on an amused edge. “Excuse the vulgar language, but ye aren’t in Kansas anymore if you’re in our basement. The man fucks the woman on the floor. He makes his claim in the most basic way possible and in front of anyone else left conscious.”

My breath left me in a rush. I should be horrified. Should be hanging up the phone. Instead, I held it tighter to my ear. “And in front of the cameras?”

He clucked his tongue. “I know that could be a conflict of interest for someone in a position like yours, but bear in mind that many of our candidates have reputations to uphold. Some are public figures. The cameras stream to rented bedrooms in our warehouse and to our sex club. In other words, other people fuck to the action. But it’s never recorded, and all phones are confiscated so there’s no visible record. That doesn’t mean that ye won’t be recognised, and if ye want, we’ll supply a mask like the one I wore when we met. Just be aware it might be torn off ye along with the rest of your clothes. Most lasses end up naked. The men, too.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, a pulse throbbing between my legs that was entirely inappropriate in a public street.

“That’s fine,” I squeaked out.

If a patient saw me, then they’d never believe their eyes. If a colleague or someone more senior than me witnessed it, they’d be as culpable as I was. After all, they were the one in the sex club or rented bedroom doing dirty things to the show. Strangely, I found that I didn’t care about the exhibitionism part.

It excited me. Every bit of it. But that was all to do with the man I imagined claiming me.

I’d beenrightabout Malachi Hunan. The hint he’d dropped in that interview wasn’t a random comment about chasing someone. He’d been talking about the game. I was almost certain.

It might be the same one as me if I just said yes.

“Will Mr Hunan be in the same game?” I blurted then pressed my shaking fingers to my mouth. What had possessed me to voice that?

Shade snorted. “I cannae confirm details about another contestant. Not for blood nor money. Though I’ve got to say it’s funny that question came at me in reverse.”

Without giving me a second to linger on the implications of his last sentence, he continued. “After the claiming has taken place, your man will carry ye from the building and into your waiting transport. Ye go home together. Then for thirty days, he’s yours and you’re his. Ye live together. Ye fuck daily. Ye don’t leave each other’s side for more than a couple of hours in the first week then a little longer for the rest of the time. By the end of the month, you’ll commit or quit. But just so ye know, every other couple has stayed together. We haven’t had a single breakup in all the times of running this.”

It all sounded so perfect. Exactly what I wanted. Except my heart had sunk down to my surgeon’s Crocs. “A whole month? I don’t think I can commit to it. At least not right now.”

In fact, I knew I couldn’t. The two weeks’ leave I’d already arranged had been a stretch that would almost certainly be cut into with emergencies. Normally I wouldn’t mind. Healing people was my calling. Just this once, I needed time for myself.

My interviewer paused. “I understand your workload as a doctor must be fierce, but it’s a requirement I can’t change. Ye have to clear the space in your diary.”

I was gutted. Like someone had sliced into my belly and all my brand-new hopes spilled out. “Isn’t there another way? Surely not every couple has done this?”

“I guarantee they have. If there’s an urgent need during the thirty days, they go to work together, and from what I’ve heard, usually end up fucking on desks once the business is done. We have CEOs and business owners. Specialists in all kinds of fields. But most take the whole month off. It’s a fast track to a committed relationship like no other and a big part of the draw for busy people.”

I got that completely. I understood. A deep sense of longing had burned through me. The claiming was one thing. The violence, the blood, the fights. But the long-term goal was that commitment forged in those extreme circumstances and which would endure because of it.

“I know this is a lot,” he said. “I don’t mean to play hardball, but ye left it some time to call me back. I need to know if you’re in or out. I was about to offer the place to the next lass on my list, but if ye want it, say now.”

I did. So badly. But I couldn’t make it work.

The game was running on Friday night. There was no way I could manage to get a whole month off by then. It was unthinkable. Nor could Malachi come into surgery with me when I had to work. In my head, of course only he would win me.

Except it just couldn’t be.

“I’m so sorry for wasting your time. I can’t make it work.”

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