by LP Lovell
Footsteps echo down the hallway, pausing, it seems, right outside my door. My breath catches. My pulse stills. And then whoever it is outside that door walks off.
Did he kill her? How could he just let her go? What is wrong with them and what the fuck is wrong with me? I want the money—no I desperately need that money, but something about this game, whatever it is, is sinister, twisted, and wrong. My pulse picks up, sweat pricks its way over my body. How far will they push me? Day two my choices were fuck the woman my boyfriend left me for, or kill her. Murder my dignity, or murder her. What if next time there is no choice?
If I leave, will they find me? If I stay, does it make me just as horrible as they are?
And then I remember Tobias saying: They never last past day three...
7
Tobias
I lean over the balcony, the metal cool against my skin as I look down over the city. The cars look like ants crawling along the congested streets. The wind howls around the corner of the building, drowning out the noise of the traffic. The sound of the patio door sliding open catches my attention and I throw a passing glance over my shoulder as Preston steps out. He pulls a cigarette from his pocket, sticks it to his lips, and lights it, the glow from the orange flame flicking over his face.
He steps beside me and lets the smoke roll from his lips as he leans over the balcony. “She’s screaming.”
I shrug. “She’ll give it up.”
“She’ll lose it tomorrow.”
I laugh. “Don’t they all?”
“She handled tonight well.”
“She did.”
He takes another deep drag, tapping his finger over the railing. “She is perfect, you know that though, don’t you?”
I grit my jaw as I push back from the balcony. Clearing my throat, I close my eyes and all I can see is her. Her pale skin, blonde hair and blue eyes…how innocent they looked as she glared up at me, my cock in her mouth, Preston’s in her hand. “She’s just a woman…” I say.
A deep chuckle rumbles from Preston’s throat before he tosses his butt to the ground. I watch the red glow of the embers fade with each foot it falls. Preston turns to go back inside, stopping to pat my shoulder. “Don’t get attached, Tobias.” He smirks before opening the door and stepping back inside.
I watch him through the window as he walks through the living room to the kitchen to get a glass of water and then he disappears down the hall. I want to say my little lamb is perfect, but that will all depend on how day three goes. It is, after all, the turning point of this game.
As if on cue, my phone rings. I pull it from my pocket and press it to my ear. “Yeah…”
“She’s still there, I see.”
“For now.”
Silence falls over the line. I can hear the flint of a lighter catch before he pulls in a long breath. “Everything is in place for tomorrow.”
“Very well.”
“Let’s hope she doesn’t throw herself from the Brooklyn Bridge like the last one.”
And with that, the line goes dead. Sighing, I slip my phone into my pocket and stare out over the horizon, my gaze focusing on the glittering lights of the Brooklyn Bridge.
Three Players
Find out what Tobias and Preston have in store for Ella next. Pre-order the next book in the series, Three Players, releasing March 24th 2017.
Pre-order here.
