Indecent Games Duet - Boxed Set

by Clarissa Wild

  Because honestly … I’d love nothing more than to see him rot in hell.

  I place my hand on Max’s table and say, “I’ll do it. But if you want me to keep my mouth shut, then help me ruin him.”

  One of his eyebrows rises, and a small smile appears on his face. “What do you want me to do? Kill him? Do you honestly think that causing more bodies will help my case? No.” He laughs. “I’m not meddling in your affairs. You’re on your own.”

  “You’ve got to help me. After all those games, it’s the least you could do,” I plead on his good will.

  He purses his lips, thinking about it for a second. “Divorce him. I’ll provide a lawyer. Once that’s done, I can settle things with him on a personal level.”

  “He’ll never agree to a divorce. I’m sure of it.”

  “Then I can’t help you. I’m sorry. If you’d come to me sooner, before you were married, maybe then I could’ve given him a different girl, but now that you already married him … I just can’t. It’s too risky. Too much exposure on my part and I’d like to keep things under the radar on my end.”

  I take a deep breath and turn around, feeling the tears already stinging my eyes, but I won’t let them go free. Not here. Not now. None of these men deserves my tears.

  “I’m sorry,” he adds.

  “Your sorry won’t help me when I’m dead,” I answer, and I leave without giving him the chance to look me in the eye a final time. Maybe he’ll regret his choice once he looks down at me from above at the cemetery where they’ll bury my body.

  11.

  Accompanying Song: “Daydream” by Ruelle

  Hyun

  With a glass of wine in one hand and the crumpled picture of my husband in my other hand, I stare at the fireplace in front of me. It’s cozy and warm, but in my heart, it feels like it’s freezing cold. The longer I sit here and think about it, the more I want to scream and break stuff.

  It’s not how I am. How I ever was.

  I’m the curious, shy type—the one who’s always eager to learn new things. The one who’s content with her small life and just wants to make do.

  I’m not the girl who wants to go out there and punch people even though that’s the only thing I can think about right now. Punching Greg in the face. Twisting his nuts until he screams and begs. Shooting him with my gun.

  It scares me. Something’s changing inside me, and I’m not sure I’ll like the person I’ll become if I do any of the things I fantasize about daily. But it feels like I’m already too late to stop it.

  With a scowl on my face, I tear apart the picture and throw it into the fire, watching it burn.

  I wish I could watch his face burn.

  To say I have deep-seated resentment is an understatement. I’ve never wanted a man to die, but I’ll gladly make an exception for Greg. He’s the devil himself.

  I force myself to remember all the things he’s done to me.

  Made me out to be a whore, a liar, a bitch, and every other nasty word in the dictionary.

  Laughed at my bad English, made fun of my thin physique, my posture. Told me that no man would ever want me and I’d be alone forever.

  All those months … he pulled me, hit me … used me in every way possible … dehumanized me.

  I’m done. Through with it all.

  It’s time to turn a new page in my life.

  I get up and march to the kitchen, taking a large pair of scissors from the drawer. Then I go to the bathroom where I stand in front of the mirror, grab the bottom part of my hair, and cut it all off. The hair falls to the floor, like a burden finally lifting from my shoulders. The short bob that remains is a stark reminder of what I’ve been through … that I’m a survivor instead of a victim, and I choose to open a new chapter.

  ***

  A few days later

  “There will be a test next week, so make sure you study hard. Any last-minute questions?” the English teacher asks the class. No one raises his or her hand, so the teacher quickly adds, “Well, have a wonderful day, and I’ll see you all next week.”

  Everyone gets up, and I pack my bags and quickly walk toward him. “I just wanted to say thank you. Your classes have helped me a lot.”

  “Oh, it’s my pleasure, Hyun. Your English is great. You’re a fast learner.”

  “Thank you,” I say with a smile. “You’re a great teacher.”

  He smiles and gently places an arm on my shoulder. “Make sure you study hard next week. I’ll expect you to ace this test too.”

  I nod as he winks and leaves the classroom.

  I sigh and look down at some of the books I’m still carrying in my arms. I wish I could study even quicker so no one would even notice I’m not speaking my native language. Then again, I have to be grateful for what I’ve achieved so far. I’ve come a long way from not being able to speak full sentences. And look at me now, thriving on my own, completely without help.

  I’m proud of myself.

  With a broad smile, I strut out of class and make my way back home. This time, I didn’t drive the car because I really felt like walking out my worries. Besides, it’s good for my health. I don’t want to become a couch potato even if I’m not safe outside like this. I’ll take the risk. It’s a safe neighborhood. What could happen?

  ***

  Accompanying Song: “Game Of Survival” by Ruelle

  As I traipse down the sidewalk and pass some bushes, something catches me off guard.

  Or rather … someone.

  Out of nowhere, a person jumps out of the bushes, pushing me so hard I fall down.

  A loud bang makes me close my eyes. Another one follows.

  The weight on my back makes it feel like something hit me. My ears ring, and my head feels dizzy. The only thing going through my mind right now is whether I’m dead.

  A mind-numbing buzz rolls over me as my body is completely covered … the smell of musky cologne entering my nose.

  After a few seconds, the weight lifts and I can breathe again. I cough and look up … only to find him crawling up from the ground.

  The man who watches me … over and over again … sends me secret, provocative notes that make my heart beat in my throat. And now, he’s grabbing me, twisting me around in his arms, his hands all over me, his eyes scanning my face.

  “Are you okay?” he asks. His thumb softly brushes the sore bruise on my face.

  The words barely register, but I manage to nod anyway.

  “Where did you …” I mutter.

  He licks his lips, his face stern, and his voice darker than before. “I always watch you …”

  It doesn’t sound like a threat.

  And for some reason … it makes me feel warm inside.

  He holds out his hand, but I stare at it for a few seconds, wondering if I can trust him. Why did he jump on me out of nowhere? And what was that sound? Did he try to hurt me?

  When I look into his blue eyes, the only answer I find is his incredible devotion toward me. With just a look, he manages to persuade me to grab his hand.

  He lifts me up from the ground and holds me close to his chest, forcing me to smell that same musky scent that exhilarates me. His muscles flex, and I can feel every inch of his skin through the thin dark blue shirt he’s wearing underneath the brown jacket.

  I look up at his beautiful eyes, which scan the area looking for others, while I feel like I could drown in his. Suddenly, they point at me, and I’m at a loss for words. I can’t believe he’s actually here … that I’m holding him … and he has his hands on my body.

  “Are you hurt?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”

  A woman on the other side of the street stares at us in shock, her hand on her mouth as she quickly dials something on her phone and starts to call.

  “She heard it too …” he murmurs.

  A witness.

  He grabs my hand and pulls me with him into a deserted alley. “You can’t go walking on the street like that, Hyu
n.”

  My name … coming from his mouth.

  It sounds so sexy …

  My mind is going haywire right now.

  “You were almost shot,” he adds, grasping my full attention, as well as my arms as if to instill fear into me. “You have to be careful.”

  I nod, my lips parted, but I don’t know what to say to that.

  I came so close to death. It’s unbelievable, and I’m still in shock.

  Someone would shoot me?

  Yes … yes, they would.

  ***

  Drake

  Minutes before

  She’s safe.

  I whisper to myself as I inch closer to his house.

  She’s in her English class. I saw her enter the building. I followed her there every step of the way.

  I look at the watch on my wrist. In ten minutes, the class will be over, and then she’ll come walking out again. I still have enough time.

  I put on my gloves and go up to the living room window behind the bushes. Hiding as well as I can, I peek through the curtains. When I spot him, my blood begins to boil.

  Her husband.

  I want to strangle him to death, but doing so would mean implicating myself, and I’m not going to jail. No fucking way.

  Instead, I settle for watching him as he yells into his phone.

  “Fuck, I hate her,” he growls, smoking a cigarette.

  I turn my back against the wall and listen through the small gap in the open window as he comes walking toward me and stares out the window for a second. My heart is racing, and I catch myself holding my breath.

  When I hear his footsteps disappear, I glance inside again, staying long enough to hear him say, “I wish she was already dead.”

  Of course, he does, sick bastard. After fucking her over, he doesn’t even want her to live without him.

  I grab a pen from my pocket and a small notepad, and I scribble down literally everything he says.

  “What do you want me to do? I’m not fucking divorcing her. She’s mine, and if I can’t have her, no one can! I’d rather die than let her win.”

  I didn’t know he fucking cared so much about her that he’d want her to walk over his corpse before she’s free—but I will make it happen if that’s what he wants.

  “I don’t care what you think. Just get it done today!” he spits, and then he throws his phone at the wall.

  Get it done today.

  If that means what I think it means, I have no time.

  She’s the perfect victim.

  My feet skid on the pavement as I rush to catch up.

  She’s in danger.

  I have to get to her.

  Before it’s too late.

  But what if he gets there before me?

  I can’t let her die.

  I run across the street, barely dodging a truck, which blares the horn loudly as I keep running. There’s no time to stop. No time to think. What if he’s already there waiting for her to come outside?

  Two, three, four blocks.

  My heart is pounding in my chest, and my lungs expand to suck in as much air as I can while I keep running, my legs barely able to keep up the pace. But I’m not stopping. Not until I see her strolling on the sidewalk, staring at her cell phone, while a man across the street rummages in his pocket and takes out a gun.

  I run as fast as I can across the grass. Through the bushes. Right into her.

  ***

  Now

  She’s here. She’s safe. She’s right where she belongs.

  In my arms.

  I’m touching her.

  My hands are on her back … her arms … her ass.

  And the more I feel her press against me, the more protective—no, possessive—I feel.

  Dangerously possessive.

  Like I’m addicted to the very thought of her clutching me.

  And the closer she is, the more I want to smash my lips on hers and never let her go.

  I can already imagine my hands all over her naked skin, our bodies twisting and turning as we make sweet, fucking love.

  But it’s so, so fucking wrong.

  She’s not mine.

  She still belongs to him.

  The man who hates her guts.

  The man who doesn’t deserve her.

  But do I deserve her?

  I invaded her space. Rushed over and bumped into her, making her fall to the ground. I gave her that bruise. And now, I’m touching her in places I shouldn’t be. Places she didn’t ask for. Something she probably can’t even think about because I saved her.

  But just because I kept her from dying doesn’t mean I can put my hands all over her.

  I feel bad, so I unlatch her from my body and pull her hands down, making her release me.

  “I should go,” I say as I look down at her. “Go home. Stay safe. Use your car.”

  Then I turn around and march off, determined not to let my cock take over my mind.

  I should follow the guy who almost shot her instead.

  I only briefly saw him, but I know which direction he went.

  It’s a good excuse to separate myself from her before I do something I can’t take back.

  Keep walking. Don’t look back.

  The last thing I hear is her voice, pleading with me. “Wait.”

  It only makes me walk faster.

  12.

  Accompanying Song: “Hungry like The Wolf” by Snow Hill

  Hyun

  Evening

  Listening to the television, I sit and drink my tea, but I don’t hear a word of what they’re saying. I’m lost in my mind, repeating the scene of what happened today over and over in my head.

  I almost got shot.

  I almost died.

  The words don’t feel real, but they are.

  I keep telling myself I’m still alive. I’m still breathing, and I’m safely in my home.

  Thanks to him.

  Somehow, someway … he saved me.

  Suddenly, I hear something shuffle underneath my door. I immediately grasp my gun and hold it tight as I sit back and watch the door. For a few seconds, nothing happens. So I get up and look closely. That’s when I notice the small piece of paper tucked underneath the door.

  I put down my gun and walk toward it. Slowly, I pick it up, making sure to check no one’s there, but I don’t see any feet in the small gap.

  I quickly step away from the door and open the note, reading what’s written inside.

  I want to know if you’re okay.

  I can’t stop myself. I need to be near you. Especially after I almost lost you.

  Did you know your husband wants you dead?

  Burn this note.

  Drake

  This one is handwritten, and it doesn’t look like he took much time to write it. Sucking in a breath, I check the back, but there’s nothing else on it.

  Drake …

  The name alone warms my heart.

  An impulse drives me to the cabinet, and I grab a pen and a notebook, tearing out a page to write something down.

  I’m okay. For now.

  You saved me. I want to thank you.

  I know you’re here, watching me … I’m not afraid.

  Hyun

  I tuck the pen back into the drawer and carefully slip the note underneath the door until it’s outside on the steps. Then I wait.

  It takes a while, but I hear footsteps, and a shadow appears in the narrow gap. I hold my breath. The note is picked up. The shadow disappears and doesn’t return.

  I step away and smile.

  I don’t know why I smile.

  It’s insane.

  I’m insane for even replying.

  But it’s too late to take it back now. I’m sure he’s reading it as we speak.

  I turn off the television and throw his note into the fire. Then I sit down at my table and stare at the door while listening to the clock, which produces the only sound in this room. Not long after, a new note slides under my door.

/>   In a frenzy, I immediately reach for it and read.

  All you have to do is let me in … tonight.

  I swallow and step away from the door, looking at it as if he could magically appear through it. But nothing happens. Not unless I want it to. That’s the point of all these notes … permission.

  But the thing is I think I already made my mind up long ago.

  When I saw him watching … and never told him to stop.

  So I smile to myself and hold the note close.

  A few hours later, when it’s time to go to bed, I open the window in my bedroom wide. Then I turn off the light, lie down on the bed, and close my eyes, waiting until it happens.

  But the more I lie here, the more at peace I feel.

  The warmth of my blanket envelops me in a cocoon of drowsiness, and soon, I fall asleep.

  I don’t know how much time passes before a creaking noise makes my eyelids flutter open. In the dark of night, I can barely see … but I can make out a shadowy figure standing in the corner of my room, staring at me.

  ***

  Accompanying Song: “Obsession” by Golden State (Animotion Cover)

  Drake

  When I couldn’t find the man who tried to shoot her, I went back to my own place. Still, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I had to know if she was safe.

  And now I’m here … again.

  In her home. Invading her space.

  My breathing is shallow, ragged, as I silently watch her look up at me with those doe-like eyes. She’s magnificent, so innocent … so ripe for the taking.