by LP Lovell
A hidden speaker in the corner of the room crackles through the silence. “Shoot someone in the room, or I will kill everyone except you, Ella.” Three’s— no— Sawyer’s voice fills the room.
This time it’s not a game of semantics or a question of which choice is morally more wrong. Killing her would be murder. Black and white. No room for confusion. Tobias and Preston, on the other hand, are not innocent. They do terrible things, albeit to terrible people, but I can’t kill them either. They serve as a balance, and I love him—I love them both in a way. I glance at the gun. Who do I shoot? “Please don't make me do this,” I beg.
Tobias sighs. “You have no choice. You've been here before, little lamb. Begging does no good.”
The room seems to shrink in on me. This is an impossible decision. One I refuse to make. “I want out,” I say.
Tobias shakes his head. “It's too late.”
“It's not. I quit. You win!” My voice echoes around the room, mixing with Lily’s soft cries. I shove the gun to Tobias’s chest, but he doesn’t make a move to take it. “I don't want your money!”
“It’s too late in the game.” Preston steps beside Tobias, a grim frown on his face. “There’s only one way out.
Death? Is that what he means?
Tobias tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “It’s one or all of us now, little lamb. Save two or kill us all.”
Lily pleads for her life under her breath. The hopelessness in her voice sends anger bubbling in my chest. She shouldn’t be here. I shouldn't be here. There is no purpose to this insane game outside of morbid entertainment for rich men. For Tobias. He is the game master, the orchestrator of all this. I choke back a sob as I lift the gun. I don’t want to kill him, and that’s half the problem. But he made me kill Reginald because Reginald was a bad person. In this room, Tobias is the bad person.
My chest goes tight. I can’t imagine pulling this trigger and watching his brains splatter the ground, but still, I place the barrel to his temple.
A sly smirk works over his lips. “Am I the chosen one then, my little lamb? Killed by the only woman to ever pierce this blackened heart.” He touches his hand to his chest on a laugh. “Oh, the irony.”
My pathetic, twisted heart wants to believe that I am the only woman he’s ever cared about, but I know it must simply be another manipulation. Maybe they want to see how stupid I am to believe he could love me. “You lie, Tobias.”
“I may be many things, but I would not lie to you about that.”
Preston’s hand lands on my shoulder, and I jump from the sudden contact. God, my finger could have slipped on the trigger… “Point it at Lily,” Preston whispers in my ear, sweet and soft and loving. “Just a small slip of the finger, sweet Ella, and you win.”
“Shoot me, Ella.” Tobias places his hand on the barrel, forcing it harder against his skull. “Pull the trigger.”
This is fucked up. I close my eyes, fighting to find resolve. This is the right decision. If I shoot no one, they all die. If I shoot him…Can I shoot a man that now owns my soul?
“Bang. Bang,” Preston whispers.
Opening my eyes, I frown. “You love him, Preston.” He does, I know he does. I see it in the way he looks at Tobias sometimes. It's the same way I look at him.
“Love is a perception, sweet Ella. It comes and goes like all other emotions. All we really have is the here and now, the adrenaline of the moment.” He grins, spreading his arms wide. “And don't you feel so alive?”
“I...I...” I feel everything at this moment. Fear and anxiety, dread. I’m so on edge my skin is hyperaware. So torn with emotions, I feel drunk, and worst of all, I feel the heavy weight of a decision I do not want to make.
Tobias smiles. “Tell me why you can't, Ella.”
I glance at Lily, then at Preston, and when my gaze drifts back to Tobias, dark and strong, so confident that not even death seems to scare him, the gun threatens to fall from my sweat-slicked palms. “I just…”
“Tick, tock, little lamb,” Tobias says.
And I can’t. I can’t kill him. I step back and shove the gun beneath my chin. This is the only solution.
Tobias shakes his head. “Do that, and he’ll still kill us.”
I’m tired of these twisted plays, this back and forth. Sickened by how easily these monsters have manipulated me into love. I steady my hand.
Tobias’s gaze locks with mine, his jaw ticking. “Ella…” He’s not happy with me, and I take a glimmer of satisfaction from that. But shouldn’t he be happy? I didn’t choose him. Maybe he’s just mad that I’m about to take his little lamb away.
My stomach churns. Tears wet my face. I love them and she’s innocent, and this is the only way to make the game end... I pull back on the trigger— Click—but the pain, the empty void I expect never comes. Nothing does.
When I open my eyes, I’m met with a cold smirk playing over Tobias’s lips. “I love you, too, little lamb.” He kisses my forehead and I drop the gun to the ground. “Even if it means you lost.”
I lost? “What—”
“It was only blanks.”
The door swings open and Sawyer strides in, clapping like he’s just watched the best performance of his life. “Seven days! Is that all it takes to make you choose them over yourself?” He glances at Tobias and Preston. “Seven days of your fuckery and she loves you? Unbelievable.” He stops behind Lily and works at untying her. “You'll find the money in your account in the morning.”
I can’t help but wonder what kind of contract she must have signed. I wonder if this is where her game ends, or where it simply begins.
The rope falls to the floor and she nearly trips on her way out of the chair. She reaches the door before Sawyer stops her. “And remember, if you speak of this to anyone, I will have you killed.” The door slams closed and his attention is back on me. “And, as for you, you lost. You fell in love and hence, broke a rule. Strike four, Ella. So sad after all you've been through.” I
lost. I lost? After all I’ve done.
“Lucky for you though…” He turns to Tobias with a pleased grin. “Tobias and I struck another deal. One where I come up with the game.”
I’m not playing another fucking game with them! Anger rises within me until Preston steps out of the shadows. The wounded expression on his face stops me. Did he not know? “What deal did you make, Tobias?”
Sawyer rounds me, trailing his fingers over my shoulder. “Well, you see, Preston, she’s had such an effect on Tobias that he felt guilty when I was going to fuck her unconscious body. So, I agreed not to fuck her if I could change the end game.” Sawyer practically beams. “And Tobias agreed that he and I could play. For her.”
Preston’s jaw sets as his narrowing gaze pings between Tobias and me.
Sawyer’s face lights up. It’s evident he’s thrilled with this, and when he goes to cup my cheek, I yank away. “Ella, you either come with me, forcing him to lose the only woman who has been able to tame the brutal beast, or you kill Preston.”
There is no decision here. Not a moment of hesitation. “I won't kill him.”
“Really, so quick to make a decision?” A sick smile settles on Sawyer’s face. “What took you so long a few minutes ago?”
Anger and shame mix in my veins, separating like oil and water. It should have been this easy moments ago. It should have, but it wasn’t. “Suicide for your entertainment wasn’t a two-second decision.”
Sawyer smirks as he pinches a strand of my hair between his fingers. “If you’re going to be the sacrificial lamb, Ella, I'll be sure to make you bleed.”
31
Sawyer drives through the city in silence, eventually pulling up to the same house on the edge of town where the masquerade party was held. “Home sweet home,” he says, putting the car in park.
Is this how the game ends? Trapped into playing house with the man I once loved, knowing he’s a monster. I stare at the front entrance while endless questions mount in my head.
The open street calls to me. An escape route if only I would run and save myself, but there is no running now. Nowhere they couldn’t find me, where he wouldn’t find me. So I follow him inside the foyer. The door closes behind me, sealing me into what feels like my tomb, and then he leans in like he’s going to kiss me, but stops. “I can still smell him on you.” A slight snarl curls his lip. “Go upstairs and change, then show yourself to the kitchen.”
I ball my fists, fighting the rage that my forced submission has tamped down for the last week. Sawyer knows I’m in love with Tobias. He knows I don’t want to be here. If I’m to get out of here, I must appear compliant and willing. Worse, I must be the girl I was before I ever played this game. The girl he loved. And then, when he least expects it, I will become exactly what they made me: Dark, without morals...a killer. That is the only reason I do as I’m told and go upstairs. The bedroom closet is filled with clothes—my clothes. How did Sawyer manage this? How many people do they have working behind the scenes to tidy their messes and play into their delusions? It’s an answer I’d probably rather not know.
I change into a pair of jeans and a tank top before I go back downstairs like the good little whore I’ve become.
Sawyer stands at the massive kitchen island, pouring two glasses of wine. This must be his house. His real house. And it’s the kind of home we used to “daydream” of owning. The thought provokes a mixture of rage and regret.
He places the wine bottle beside a vase on the counter and looks up at me with a smug grin. He seems utterly pleased with himself. Pleased that he won. Pleased that he fucked me when I thought it was another man—One he handed me over to for some messed up reason. The more the thoughts whirl through my mind, the more my anger grows until it’s a billowing cloud of hate. I used to love this man—picture my life with him and now all I can picture is what it would be like to kill him. And what if I did? I could grab the vase from the end of this counter and smash it over his head then use one of the shards to slice open his jugular.
He slides a glass toward me, then casually loosens the collar of his dress shirt. “The game is over, Ella. You can ask questions now.”
Now I can ask questions. I catch sight of the label on the wine bottle. Chateau Ste. Michelle. The wine I always picked up on my way home from work. I don’t touch the glass. “Can I leave?”
“In game four you made a choice if you recall. Jump or remain with us forever—”
“With Tobias and Preston.” I agreed to stay with them. Not Sawyer or Three or whoever the hell he is.
“You knew there were three players at that point. You shouldn't assume.”
I knew there were three players, but only Tobias and Preston mattered. I was too blinded by them to think something so warped would have come from that agreement. That, and my only other option was to jump. “It was never really a choice, was it?”
He rounds the counter with a wicked grin. “Ah, death is easy, Ella. It's the living that's hard. You chose the hard path, and you chose to play a game that you had no idea how to win. Some would say you'd already jumped the second you signed that contract.”
The contract he knew about. The game he put into play by tearing my life apart bit by bit. I grip the edge of the counter, trying to keep myself from slapping him. “Why?”
He softly takes my chin in his hand and forces me to look up at him. It’s so hard to believe this is who he is. So impossible to think someone so twisted and sick could play the part of normal so well. “Because I loved you, and I hoped you could become everything I ever wanted. Now you have...”
I jerk away from his hold. He didn’t love me. That isn’t love. “So you threw me into a game where I might jump off a bridge, where I was forced to kill, made to think I was crazy?” I smile, a mocking smile that Tobias would be proud of. “I can tell you one part of your plan that backfired, letting me get fucked by two other men. You’ll never be what they are.”
Anger builds behind his eyes. I guess his arrogance never allowed him to think I may enjoy them more than I ever could him. “It was a necessary evil. I had a version of you. Now though…” He curls a piece of my hair around his finger. “Now you're perfect. Tobias is very good at what he does.”
Tobias is very good at what he does, he says that as though he were a trainer for his dog, as though what happened between us was nothing more than a lesson. “I hate you,” I whisper, fighting the storm of emotions battering my insides.
“That may be, but you’re mine now, Ella. You lost. Accept it.”
“Or what?”
“Or your life will be particularly unpleasant. “The sick smile shifts to a stern frown. “You will love me again, Ella. We will be perfect.”
Bullshit. “I love Tobias.”
His hand meets my cheek so fast; I barely have time to register the blow. A part of me loves that he so easily snapped, and it’s this part of me that is beginning to understand Tobias’s love of control and manipulation.
“He doesn’t love you. You’re just a game to him. But I knew, from the second I met you, that you were special, Ella. That I wanted you in the game. I imagined what it would be like to watch them fuck you. To watch you blossom into something untouchable. Something perfect.” He’s insane. Tobias and Preston are undoubtedly psychopathic, but this is something else entirely. Obsession? The lengths he’s gone to orchestrate this. Our entire relationship… None of it makes any sense. He didn’t even want me when he had me. He had an affair.
“So why did you fuck Maria?”
“All part of the game. I never wanted her. I only fucked her to hurt you. It was necessary.”
Necessary? He ripped out my heart and left me with nothing. Had this past week not happened, I would walk out the door right now. I’m not bound, I’m not being held at gunpoint… What I am is all too aware of the dark side of humanity. My agreement that night on the bridge wasn’t legally binding, but with men like this, legality is nothing more than a pretty formality. I agreed to stay and, unknowingly, that agreement included Sawyer. I can’t run. I can’t leave because there will be consequences, the likes of which would be terrible and gruesome, I’m sure. All I can do is bide my time.
“I must say.” He takes a sip of wine. “I was bitterly disappointed. I’d hoped that you would have been so jealous that you would have killed Maria when you had the chance.”
What does he expect here? For me to declare my undying love? Is he so far gone that he can’t see that will never happen? He’s a monster, but maybe that’s what gives him hope. After all, Tobias is a monster.
My gaze darts to the knife block within arm’s reach just as he grabs the wine bottle from the counter. And when he turns, placing it in the fridge, I snatch a paring knife and tuck it into the waistband of my jeans.
The fridge closes and Sawyer’s gaze lands on me. I wait for it to stray to the empty spot on the knife block, for him to notice the slight sweat I feel breaking out on my forehead, but instead, he moves past me. “Let me show you the house.”
The knife feels like a brand against my back as he leads me out of the kitchen. I can’t help but wonder if it’s a trap. If he knows I have it.
He doesn't show me the house, instead, he takes me upstairs to a gigantic master bedroom.
The door closes with a click, and I know what happens next. He’ll take what he wants whether I’m willing or not. I should pretend to be willing because it’s the only way I can take this knife and ram it in his jugular. He’s too strong, I know that from having spent years with him. To overpower him, I’ll have to take him by surprise, make him weak for me. Just like Tobias would... This is why, instead of shoving him away when he stops in front of me, I press my lips to his.
“Oh, Ella,” he mumbles. “I�
�ve missed this.”
Disgust crawls over me at the feel of his hands on my hips, but I swallow that down and slowly back him toward the bed. Our eyes meet as I reach for his belt and yank it free. His pants go next, then his boxers, and soon enough he's lying on the bed next to me, naked and vulnerable. Ripe for the picking.
I sweep my hand over his chest, thinking of all the places I could stab him, all the organs I could damage. When did I become this cold, callous person? On day three or four? Day five…
I straddle him, wondering if I should slit his throat mid-fuck or right after he comes.
Something in the room shifts, and I know Tobias is standing behind me before I even glance over my shoulder. His anger and dominance fill the space like a living, breathing creature, and I wonder if it’s because he’s seeing me like this, straddling a man that isn’t him or Preston. I want to tell him I’m only pretending to want the man I hate, but I can’t.
“Don’t be upset, Ella. This was the agreement.” Sawyer’s fingers wind around my throat like a collar, a satisfied smirk playing over his lips. He’s loving this. “You lose and Tobias has to fuck us. No Preston. Just me and you and him.”
He grabs my shirt and pulls it over my head, pinching my nipple as he glares over my shoulder. “Does it bother you that I have your favorite little toy now, Tobias?”
That anger swells, sucking oxygen from the room. “As I said, you may take her body, but you'll never take her soul. That's mine.”
His possession falls over me like a rogue wave, consuming me, and I have to fight the smile threatening my lips.
“Seven days, Tobias.” Sawyer sits up, imprisoning me against him as he kisses my neck. I hate the way it feels. “It's nothing more than a lustful form of Stockholm Syndrome. Nothing more than a drug, absolutely addictive but not something anyone needs…”
