Bad Games: Hellbent - A Dark Psychological Thriller (Bad Games)

by Menapace, Jeff

  So as Dad burned and Mom watched (her hair gone, burned away, her skin charred, lips blackened strips, making the teeth appear too big—the whole image that of a red and black skull that was, by some inexplicable way, still alive), Monica and Kelly smoked and laughed (a hearty guffaw exploding from both women when Kelly nearly singed both eyebrows trying unsuccessfully to light a cigarette off her burning father) until Kelly decided the time was right and granted Mom her final match so she could watch both her parents burn to death.

  ***

  After putting out the fire, Kelly and Monica stood among the blackened corpses of Conrad and Joanna Blaine and had one more cigarette.

  “Thank you,” Kelly said to Monica. “This was amazing.”

  Monica took a deep drag of her cigarette and just smiled.

  Chapter 27

  When Domino saw who was calling, he answered his cell immediately.

  “Russ,” he said.

  “Hey, Dom. You sitting down?”

  Domino was standing but said, “Yeah.”

  “You’re in the clear.”

  “Huh?”

  “They dropped the charges. It’s all over. You’re free and clear.”

  “How can that be?”

  “Don’t know. All I do know is that I just got off the phone with their attorney, and she told me all three decided not to press charges. Apparently they admitted they were in the wrong and didn’t want to pursue the matter any further.” Domino heard Russ chuckle. “Their attorney sounded like she couldn’t believe it herself.”

  Now Domino did sit down. He sat on the edge of the hotel bed and began wringing his brow. It didn’t make sense. “How could—why would they just drop everything?”

  “Are you kidding me, Dom? This is like winning the lottery. Why do you seem distraught over it?”

  Domino shook his head into his cell. “I’m not, I just…I wasn’t expecting this.”

  “I wasn’t expecting it either. But it is what it is. Go get a drink. Relax. Just don’t get drunk and put three more guys in the hospital.”

  Domino gave a fake chuckle. “Thanks, Russ. Take it easy.”

  “You too.”

  They hung up.

  Domino called Amy.

  “Hey, Batman,” she answered.

  “They’re not pressing charges,” he said immediately.

  “What?”

  “I just got off the phone with my attorney. The three guys decided not to press charges. They had a change of heart and admitted they were wrong.”

  “Well that’s great, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah…”

  “You sound confused.”

  “Wouldn’t you be?”

  “I guess I would. But still, never look a gift horse in the mouth, right?”

  “Haven’t heard that one in awhile.”

  “It was one of Patrick’s favorites. You know he had a jillion of them.”

  “Yes he did.”

  “So should we celebrate? Do you want to come by for dinner? The kids and I are ordering pizz—Carrie, I said no!”

  Domino laughed.

  “Sorry,” Amy said.

  “Is my girl acting up again?”

  “Is water wet? Anyway, we’re ordering a pizza. I can order five more for your big ass if you want.”

  Domino laughed again. “That sounds nice. But I don’t think we should be celebrating anything. I got lucky. Let’s leave it at that.”

  “Okay. See you in what? An hour?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “See you then.”

  Domino clicked off his phone, cheeks puffing as he let out a long breath. Something still didn’t feel right.

  Chapter 28

  Earlier

  Monica and Kelly had checked into a hotel in Princeton, New Jersey shortly after burning Kelly’s parents to death.

  This morning as they dined on room service, Kelly at a table eating eggs and toast, Monica on the bed with coffee, flipping through her smart phone for any recent updates on the shooting in Bucks County, or if the death of Conrad and Joanna Blaine had yet to be discovered, something exceptionally significant caught Monica’s eye.

  “Hel-lo,” she said.

  Kelly looked up from her eggs. “What?”

  Monica didn’t answer; she was too busy reading.

  “Everything okay?” Kelly asked.

  “Seems my buddy Domino was a bad boy last week.”

  “Domino? The guy you—”

  “Yes,” Monica said, fiddling with her phone some more. The information she’d gleamed from the online source was lacking in the details she’d hoped for. She tried a few more sources, but all of them produced nearly identical stories, the information equally vague when it came to the three victims, equally juicy when it came to the lethal and very drunk soldier and security specialist Domino Taylor. “Fuck,” she said.

  “What?” Kelly asked again.

  Monica ignored her. She knew who to call next. She started to dial, but stopped, considered Kelly. Monica didn’t want her in the room when she made this call, have her listening to the information she’d be divulging in order to code in.

  “Sorry,” Monica eventually said, looking up. “It’s nothing major. Can you go get me cigarettes?” She went into her bag and came out with a twenty. “Parliament Lights. Get whatever you want too.” She tossed the twenty on the bed.

  Kelly stood and took the bill, but looked hesitant. “Should I be moving around?”

  “You’ll be fine. From what I can see—” She held up her phone “—no one’s found your parents yet. Just keep your head down and grab some smokes around the corner. You’ll be fine. When you get back, we’ll do your makeover, okay?”

  Kelly shrugged. “I guess.”

  “You’ll look hot, trust me.” She flicked her chin towards the door. “Parliament Lights.”

  Kelly nodded and left.

  Monica started dialing. “I can’t have you in jail, Mr. Taylor—it’ll ruin my big surprise.”

  A female voice answered on the third ring. “Code in.”

  “Neco. 8122765.”

  “Waiting for voice authentication…clear.”

  “I need the identities and whereabouts of three men.”

  Chapter 29

  The Intel Monica had originally gathered on Domino Taylor had confirmed most of her suspicions. His security business had been officially placed on indefinite hiatus for the past year, and he’d been subletting his place in New York City for the same duration.

  This suggested two things to Monica: Domino was still too shaken over the loss of Patrick to go back to work, something she’d been counting on. And Domino was likely spending the majority of his time watching over Amy and her kids, assuredly due to the extreme guilt he’d held on to now that the Lambert kids no longer had their father, and Amy no longer had her husband—again, something she’d been counting on. Monica may not be a physical match for Domino, and perhaps he was just as clever as she was, but she had an edge: a guilt-laden weevil that, properly placed, would burrow into his head and mind-fuck him into oblivion.

  But that would be the final act. Before that, she intended on having her fun. All she had to do was get him to the Pines—and she had a damn good plan for that too.

  Monica felt her choices in locating Domino courted her previous assumptions: the Lamberts new home in Paoli, or a nearby hotel or motel where Domino would frequent on the nights he wasn’t with Amy and the kids. Maybe a rented home. She doubted Domino and Amy were shacking up together; Monica felt Domino’s hard-wired code of honor would have frowned on such a thing.

  Finding the hotel, motel, or rented home would be tricky—there were at least a dozen hotels and motels in a 20 mile radius of Amy’s new place. Possible rented homes in the hundreds. The easiest course of action would be to stakeout the new Lambert home and hope Domino was there, and if he was, hope he wasn’t crashing there for the night so she could follow him home.

  She had no plans to confront Domino
tonight, likely not for days. After all, she didn’t hold her ace yet. That was all up to Kelly.

  For now, Monica merely wanted to know all possible residences for her target. Any half-competent asset would be doing the same. And supposedly dead or not, Monica knew she could not hover around the Lambert home anytime she needed to find Domino; the paranoia Monica and her family had assuredly left in their wake was an extra pair of eyes.

  So now, on the way to Amy Lambert’s new home, Monica filed locating Domino’s temporary residence away as a sure thing, and began looking towards the future. Towards the ace she intended on holding after utilizing Kelly Blaine’s help. This prompted Monica to speak up.

  “Are you a virgin?” she asked Kelly.

  “What?”

  “Virgin. Are you a—?”

  “I know what a virgin is.”

  “And?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  Monica lit a cigarette, cracked the window and said, “’Cause you’re going to have to fuck somebody.”

  “I what?”

  “You are going to have to have intercourse with someone, Kelly.”

  “Where the hell is this coming from?”

  “Relax—I already checked the kid out. He’s cute.” This was a lie. The kid wasn’t ugly, but he was no stud either.

  “What?”

  “You’re like a fucked up owl. Instead of who, you keep saying what.”

  “Monica, please tell me—wait, is this the ‘boy’ you mentioned the other day?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Is this why you’re making me over?”

  “Well, you’re half-right on that one. I figured it best you didn’t walk around looking like you did when you left Stratton Grove, don’t you?”

  “And the other half?”

  Monica shrugged as if to imply it was all common sense. “We have to turn your natural beauty into slut-beauty. Natural beauty is only admired by endangered men. Slut-beauty is admired by the sadly plentiful rest. We don’t know if this kid is one of the endangered, so we play the odds. The good news is that even the endangered have a hard time saying no to slut-beauty.” Monica offered Kelly a cigarette. Kelly ignored the offer, her eyes stuck on Monica’s profile.

  “You’re not making sense,” Kelly said. “You’re being vague again.”

  “Answer my question first, then I’ll tell you.”

  “Am I a virgin?”

  “Correct.”

  “No—I’m not.”

  Monica was only a little surprised. She had her suspicions. “You’ve been at Stratton Grove since you were eleven. Let me guess—there are a few male employees of the prestigious Stratton Grove who could be brought in on statutory charges?”

  Kelly said nothing. Monica smiled.

  “It helped you keep your run of the place, didn’t it? When was the first time?”

  Kelly remained quiet.

  “I’m not judging, Kelly. I’d have done the same damn thing. People like you and me? Sex is a tool. A valuable tool. You need to start thinking of it that way. Men are a joke. Even the wiliest can be manipulated by good pussy. Hell, the promise of good pussy.”

  Now Kelly reached for the pack of cigarettes. Monica handed over her lighter. Kelly lit up and said, “Fourteen.”

  “How old was he?”

  “I don’t know. In his thirties.”

  “Dirty fucker. Wish you’d told me back at Stratton Grove. We could have piled him on top of Mrs. Sands.”

  Kelly laughed a little.

  “Why’d you let him?” Monica asked.

  “He bought me things. Things we weren’t allowed to have.”

  “You had a sugar daddy, huh?”

  Another little laugh.

  “Other times?” Monica asked.

  “Same deal. I’d spread my legs or get on my knees, and I’d get what I wanted.”

  Monica gave Kelly a casual glance. “Ever enjoy it?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “I don’t understand sex. I get it if you want to make a baby. But for fun, it’s…flesh being slammed into flesh. What’s the point?”

  Monica smiled inside. Yes, she and Kelly Blaine were more similar than she first thought. “So it was like a job to you…to get what you wanted…”

  Now it was Kelly who shrugged as if to imply common sense. “Yeah.”

  “Then you won’t have a problem helping me.”

  Kelly sighed.

  “It’s no different than being back at Stratton Grove, Kelly.”

  “What am I getting out of it?”

  “Need we do a reality check? You’re sounding like every entitled kid in America.”

  Kelly took a final drag of her cigarette then flicked it out the window.

  “We’re almost there,” Monica said. “We’ll talk about it after. But we had fun in the park didn’t we?”

  Kelly gave a slight nod.

  “We definitely had fun at your parents’, didn’t we?”

  Kelly gave a more definitive nod.

  “Ever been to The Hamptons?”

  Kelly paused, then said, “Isn’t that a place where all the rich people go?”

  Monica smiled. “Yes. My family has a house there. You know who else does?”

  Kelly shrugged.

  Still smiling, Monica said: “Your new boyfriend.”

  Chapter 30

  “Again,” Domino said.

  Amy slammed the heel of her palm into the rubber mannequin’s face.

  “Again.”

  Amy hammered home another palm.

  “Three more in rapid succession.”

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  “Faster. Harder.”

  “That’s what she said.”

  Domino frowned. “Focus, girl! Would you joke around if that was Monica standing there?”

  Amy shot Domino a look. He stared back but said nothing. Amy turned back to the mannequin and hit it as hard as she could. And again. And again after that. She pummeled the freestanding equipment across the room with continuous shots—palms, elbows, punches—until it collided with the wall. She then started to gouge and bite into the rubber material, screaming wildly as she did so.

  Domino stepped in to stop her, and she turned and slammed a palm into his face. Domino stumbled back, tucked and turned. Amy immediately attended to him.

  “Oh my God, Domino, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

  Domino, still tucked over and turned away, started to chuckle. “Damn, girl—you pack a wallop.”

  Amy shoved him. “Well you deserved it. Why did you say that?”

  Domino stood upright. “Got you fired up, didn’t it?”

  Amy looked annoyed. “I’m not training to be in the UFC, Domino. I’m a suburban mom for Christ’s sake.”

  “A suburban mom that can hit.”

  “Don’t ever do that again.”

  “Nothing wrong with tapping deep in order for you to train your hardest.”

  Amy started walking away. “The bitch is dead. I don’t need you tapping into my fucking nightmares thank you.”

  “Amy, wait.”

  She stopped and turned, breathing heavy, still looking annoyed.

  “Don’t be angry. I was just trying to get you to perform your best.”

  “I know you were. But there are ways to do things and there are ways you don’t. That was a don’t.”

  Domino nodded. “Crystal.”

  Amy went upstairs.

  Chapter 31

  They had kept watch on Amy’s new home last night unobserved. Certainly far away enough to arouse no suspicion from Amy, and far away enough to fly under Domino’s radar when he’d made his expected visit.

  Monica had watched them through her Fujinons, picking the majority of the silent show up, the only breaks in the action when one of the four—Amy, Domino, Carrie, and Caleb—had briefly ventured into a different room.

  They’d been eating pizza and watching television. Occasionally they’d laugh. T
hey’d seemed happy.

  This was not okay.

  Monica had already sworn off Amy and her brood. She felt leaving them without Patrick was worse than death. She still felt that way.

  But to see them smile. It flooded her veins with hate and tested her resolve. She had to keep reminding herself it was about Domino. All about Domino. Avenging her father’s death.

  But to see them smile.

  What did you expect? she’d immediately asked herself. To see them crying? Huddled around some extravagant altar constructed for the dearly departed Patrick? Weeping? Constantly weeping, day and night?

  No. But not smiling. Not happy.

  You don’t know they’re happy. Besides, all that matters is Domino. And you know he’s not happy. Drinking. Fighting. Taking leave from work. He reeks of guilt.

  So why is he smiling too? Why is he laughing every time Carrie and Caleb open their mouths?

  He’s happy when he’s with them.

  So take them away from him. Who cares if you think you and Amy are square? You can change the rules whenever you damn well please. Take them away from him. Let him fail once again. Then torture him. Then kill him.

  But that would mean deviating from the plan. You’d lose all your bargaining strength. Your ace. You’d never get him alone after that. Never get him back to the Pines. He’d come looking for you.

  You’d lose control.

  It’s always, always about control.

  Stick to the plan. Use Kelly to get that ace. Then use that ace to get him back to the Pines. Destroy him emotionally and physically.

  Stick to the plan and don’t lose control. Keep watching, and then follow Domino back to wherever the hell he came from.

  Before she’d handed the Fujinons over to Kelly so the girl could have a look, Monica thought: But they’re smiling. They’re fucking smiling.

  ***

  The kids had gone to bed. Domino hadn’t left yet. Monica was getting irritated, Kelly bored.

  Kelly posed the possibility that Domino was planning on staying the night at Amy’s, was not heading back to his temporary residence. Monica ignored the comment. To suggest that such a possibility had not occurred to Monica only added to her irritation. She thought about hitting Kelly, but chose not to; she’d brought the girl too many steps forward only to knock her back a few for something as menial as frustration.