Page 52 of The Player
“Shut up!” I screeched. “Just fucking SHUT UP!” I was shaking with unbridled fury. I wanted to rip the speakers off the walls so she didn’t have to hear his fucking voice. I’d annihilate him for this. I’d make sure his payback would be more brutal than anything he’d made us do. There was a special place reserved in hell for this motherfucker, and I couldn’t wait to send him there.
The room fell silent as I panted furiously, not wanting to contain the rage boiling inside me. I held her close; the echo of her painful cries piercing me sharper than any knife. But thenhecarried on taunting us, and every nerve and fibre of my being sparked to life, desperate to charge forward and claw my way through this room to get to the Taskmaster and have my revenge.
“To me,” he announced. “He’ll always be the monkey. Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil.”
“I can’t.” Bryony shook her head as I clung to her. “We need to leave,” she begged, grabbing my arms to make me listen and force me to act.
But as soon as she’d spoken, the door that led back to our cell closed, locking us in, and I cursed, “Motherfucker.”
He’d heard her, and he was making sure we didn’t escape. He was going to make us see this through to the bitter end. There was no way out of this.
All that separated us from Bryony’s father in that chair was a glass partition and a door leading into the room he was being held in, which was currently shut.
This sick motherfucker was enjoying every second of her misery, but he’d be the one screaming when I got my hands on him.
“We’re not playing your FUCKING GAMES ANYMORE!” I shouted, anger pouring out of me as I screamed. “Your freak show is over. I’m coming for you, you bastard.”
I gritted my teeth, lifting my head to peer at Bryony’s father, wishing the masked fucker was lying there in his place.
“You won’t leave,” he stated plainly, an amused calmness in his voice. “And you will do as I say. Because if you don’t, all three of you will die today.”
That wasn’t going to happen. I wouldn’t let it.
Bryony’s breathing was erratic, and I grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look at me. She was all that mattered to me right now.
“Breathe,” I told her, trying to get her to breathe along with me, but it was useless. She was terrified, and whatever we had to do to survive today was on my shoulders. But I could take it. I’d do whatever I could to get her out of here, and I would, there was no doubt about that.
I stood up, fire burning inside of me as I put my arms up and shouted, “What do you want, huh? Do you wanna give us knives and watch us carve pieces off ourselves to satisfy you, you sick, twisted fuck?”
The sound of his voice cackling with laughter over the speakers made the dull screeching in my ears amplify, and my muscles tensed, ready to fight.
“You stole one of my game ideas,” he replied with a twisted sense of pride in his tone. “But I’ll forgive you. The flesh carving comes in a few weeks.”
There wouldn’t be any more weeks, or days, or hours for that matter. This ended today. She was getting out of here.
I could hear Bryony whimpering beside me, but I had to stay strong. The baton of survival had passed to me. It was my responsibility to get us through this.
“Don’t feel guilty,” he carried on. “Everyone who’s been in my task room, every one of your victims has deserved it.”
I didn’t like that he said ‘your’ victims. These weren’t ours; they were his. All of this was his fucking legacy, and I’d spend the rest of my life making sure he’d suffer for what he’d done to us.
“For years,” he went on. “He’s turned a blind eye to it all. He could’ve stopped it, but he didn’t. Yourfatherisn’t the man you thought he was,Bryony.”
Hearing him use her name, I snapped.
“You don’t fucking talk to her! If you want to say anything, you say it to me! Leave her out of this!” I bellowed, my chest aching as I screamed, but my body was taut and ready to face him.
“You’d better come through then,” he replied, and the door into the task room opened.
“Please, Will. Please don’t do this.” Bryony reached out her hand to me, her eyes pleading for me to stop and stay with her. I knelt in front of her, taking her face in my hands.
“I want you to turn away from the glass. I mean it, Bryony.” She started to cry harder, but I stayed firm, holding her face and stroking away her tears. “Turn your back. Don’t listen. Don’t look. Promise me.” She didn’t respond, but I kept on. “Whatever happens, I will get us out of here. But I need you to cover your ears, close your eyes, do whatever you have to do to block it out.”
She was breaking my heart, but when she nodded, I wanted to cut myself open right there in front of her,forher. I didn’t deserve this amazing, strong woman. But if, after today, she was still mine, I’d spend every minute of every day making sure I did. I’d do anything for her.
“That’s my girl,” I said, kissing her forehead, and then, as she slowly turned, sitting on the floor, facing away from the window to the task room, I stood up. “It’s gonna be okay, Bee. Trust me.”
I hated leaving her, but I had to end this.
