The Kiss Game: Dark New Adult Bully Romance (Twisted Games Book 1)

by Esme Devlin

  Not after a day.

  “Fuck would you do that?”

  She looks me in the eye before she opens her mouth. “I’m not scared of you.”

  Really? She fucking should be.

  “You know I’ll do it,” I tell her.

  She shrugs. “Then do it. What is it you think I’m so afraid of? My mum’s business? We had nothing before your dad and we only have a little more than nothing now. My mum can start over. In fact, we’ll start over together. And as for you promising not to fuck me? I believe what you told me last night, about the CPR. You’re not a rapist Malachy, and if you choose to be, it’ll only be to prove the world right. I have news for you — the world doesn’t give a fuck.”

  What started off as a shrug ended in a fiery whisper and honestly? I didn’t know she had that inside her.

  And I’m mildly impressed.

  Also somewhat amused.

  She’s been standing up to me since day one, but I thought it was just bravado. I didn’t think she actually had the balls big enough to go up against me.

  I chuckle under my breath. “So that’s it then? Over before we even had the chance to begin?”

  “It wasn’t real.”

  “Really? Funny because last night in my bed I could have sworn I felt you tremble real enough.”

  She shakes her head in the shadows and crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m not a fucking saint. I’m assuming every other woman falls at your feet, I mean look at you. Just because I kissed you back, doesn’t mean it was real.”

  I smile at her. The way we’re sitting, I can see her expression damn near perfectly but she won’t get a hint of mine. “But there is a chance that it could be.”

  “I didn’t say that,” she snaps back.

  “You didn’t have to, darlin.”

  Chapter 21

  Grace

  He throws the key and my phone down on the bed and gets up, glancing back at me once before he heads out of the room.

  I barely even hear him on the stairs or leaving the house, but I’m pretty sure he is gone. And now my heart has settled down slightly I lie back down in bed.

  I bluffed the fuck out of that.

  If I’d told him the reason I was breaking the deal was because the deal my mum made with her own devil was due to expire next month, he would have just thought of something else to threaten me with.

  At least this way, he gets to walk away knowing he couldn’t break me, and he shouldn’t have tried to. I believe him. Maybe that’s not enough for him, maybe he wants everyone to believe him.

  But that won’t happen.

  And I don’t really blame them.

  He’s turned into the very thing people accused him of. He’s bitter and twisted. He tells the world to fuck itself so loudly and then takes pleasure from it telling him to fuck himself right back.

  There’s a darkness inside him, and I can’t deny that it’s almost alluring, almost makes you want to get lost in there with him.

  But I can’t do that.

  He doesn’t like me; he never did. He’s so caught up in his forest that he can’t see the wood from the trees. He blames me. He blames Scott. He blames Jamie. I was supposed to ask him why… but honestly? I think I’m done caring.

  Asking him why and trying to understand would only get me deeper into that forest. And I’m terrified of woods and trees.

  Now I have my phone back, I’ll message Lucia in the morning and tell her that I can’t finish her order unless she’s willing to come to the shop.

  And then I truly will stay away from him. Jamie was right, he is fucked up — although not in the way Jamie thought he was. And Kate was right, you can’t fix someone who wants to be broken.

  I tried to build a bridge with him that very first day in my shop and he made it clear that was never an option. I was naïve to think it ever could have been.

  Things start going back to normal. Lucia agrees to come to the shop for fittings. It’s been over a week and I’ve seen Malachy three times at most. He’s not said anything to me, and I’ve not engaged with him.

  One of the times was in the canteen. He was sitting behind me and although I couldn’t see his face, I could feel his eyes burning into me. The next day I sat at the opposite side of the table, so I could see him, but he never showed up.

  The second time I could see him, but he sat with his back to me and didn’t pay me any attention.

  The third time, we faced each other. He made it obvious he was staring, so I stared right back at him. Until Jamie put his arm around me. He smiled briefly and then stood up and walked out of the building.

  That was Friday last week. I haven’t seen him since, and it’s Friday again.

  “Are you working tonight?”

  I’m dunking my tea bag in and out of the horrible canteen polystyrene cup, wondering where Malachy is and why he’s not been back at college, when Kate pulls me right out of my thoughts.

  “Yes. Well, for a little while. Lucia’s popping over to collect the last of the dresses, but I can’t see me staying later than 7pm-ish. How comes?”

  “The boys are going to this new Thai place that just opened. I really fancy it?”

  I’ve not been out since the… ‘game’. Not because I’m scared, or because it affected me in any way. I’ve just been busy working and to be honest, I’ve never much been one for going out anyway. My mum worries and texts me all night unless I’m with Scott — and being with Scott means being with Jamie. And I’m pretty sure one of these days he’s going to pluck up the courage and ask me out.

  “Maybe,” I tell her. “I’ll see how I feel. I’ve been super tired lately, and I wanted to get up early tomorrow to go car shopping.”

  “You’ve been working a lot,” she agrees. “But I think it would do you good to get out. Get over Grim good and proper.”

  I start laughing because this is the first time she’s even mentioned me needing to get over him. The day after he broke in, I just told her I took her advice and changed my mind.

  “I don’t need to get over him,” I say through a giggle. “I was never under him to begin with. He’s an arsehole.”

  She laughs herself. “Exactly — they’re always the worst ones to get over!”

  Since it’s late and Scott and Jamie are out tonight, my mum drops me off at the shop on her way up to the hospital.

  The rain is lashing down hard on the pavements, making me think our street will probably flood overnight if it doesn’t let up. It happens almost every autumn and is exactly why I keep pestering Mum to help me keep the house clear and in order.

  She doesn’t listen.

  But I’ll worry about that when I get home. For now, I focus on pressing the dress and getting it ready. With that completed, I give the place a quick tidy up and vacuum.

  And that’s exactly why I don’t hear the little bell ring when he walks through the door.

  By the time I clock sight of him he’s already standing in the middle of the room watching me. I cut the vacuum cleaner, and he flicks his eyebrows.

  “Alright, Cinderella?”

  My hand goes to my hip and I regard him. He looks good, again. Black slim fit jeans and a plain black t-shirt. “What are you doing here?”

  “Lucia doesn’t deal well with the rain. Something about her hair,” he points to his head and gives me a look that’s daring me to accuse him of lying.

  I don’t bite. I just go and get the dress for him.

  It’s in a garment bag with a hanger, and when I hand it out for him he doesn’t make a move to take it, he just looks at me.

  “You look good.”

  He says it like we’re a divorced couple who haven’t seen each other for years, but now we’re forty and thriving and back on Tinder.

  “Are you for real?”

  He shrugs. “Surprised you never text me is all.”

  “Really? I deleted your number.”

  “I very much doubt that, princess,” he says through a smirk.

&
nbsp; Okay so that was a lie, I didn’t actually delete it. I should have though.

  “We’re having a party tonight and you’re invited.”

  I look at him like he’s just spouted two heads, because of all the things that could have come out of his mouth I did not expect it to be that.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I tell him.

  “Really? I thought you said you’d forgiven me?”

  His stare is making me feel uncomfortable and added to that — he still hasn’t taken the dress off me. I cross the room while I reply, intending to put the dress back on the counter while he enjoys this little dance. “That was before you threatened me into pretending to be your girlfriend.”

  He chuckles. “Was it really that bad? I only threatened you with things we both knew were going to happen anyway.”

  “You made me sleep naked next to you. You took my phone off me. You sneaked into my room after stealing my key. Do you want me to continue?”

  He starts walking over to the counter and rests his hands down on the other side, eyeing the room as he goes. “You bit me. You were rude to me, more than once. Let’s not also forget about that time when you ruined my life. I’d say we’re both due a clean slate, wouldn’t you?”

  I’m tempted. I let myself admit that for a second. I’ve thought about him every night, and each time it’s always ended up in the same place. Should I have let him fuck me, just that one time, just to see what it felt like?

  And every time I let myself get carried away thinking about it, the fantasy fades from my mind just as quickly as the orgasm does.

  “It’s not a good idea,” I tell him.

  “They’re always how the best ones start,” he replies.

  “Take the dress, Malachy.” My voice is firmer this time. I’m almost convincing myself.

  He holds his hands up in defeat and takes a step back from the counter, nodding. “Alright. I get it. You’re not ready. But make no mistake — me and you are going to happen, and it would do you good to get to know me better before it does.”

  I smile at his audacity and high estimations of himself.

  “Goodnight Malachy.”

  “Goodnight Princess,” he says.

  Chapter 22

  Malachy

  I leave but I don’t leave. She thinks she’s going home. She thinks wrong.

  My car is parked across the street and with the rain so heavy I can barely see the shop. But that means she’ll barely see my black car.

  Hidden in plain sight.

  She’s all I’ve thought about for the whole two weeks since I last seen her.

  Am I obsessed?

  Maybe a little bit.

  I get like that over things though. It’s like I discover something good and I can’t get enough of it. My work, there’s an example right there. I could do that for hours, uninterrupted, not even noticing the passing of time. Grace will be like that, eventually. I’ve been patient. I feel like I’ve waited for as long as I can remember. Up until now, I’d been waiting for her to get what she deserved.

  I was waiting for the universe to give it to her.

  But now I’ve realized, well and truly, that what she deserves is me.

  It’s perfect. Everyone fucking wins. And by wins, I mean they get what they deserve. Scott gets to fall asleep every night knowing I’m fucking the brains out of his baby sister. Jamie gets to lie awake every night knowing I’m exactly where he wishes he could be. Grace gets to suffer every day for the rest of her life, although she’ll enjoy it. She gets to live with the monster she created. And when she knows me, really fucking knows me, she’ll know what she did.

  She’ll feel it herself because she loves me.

  And me? I’m the biggest winner of them all. Because she’ll be everything I want. She already is, she just needs a push so she can understand that. And tonight I’m going to push her off the edge of a cliff so high that even an angel couldn’t claw their way back up from it.

  I try to watch her through the glass but the rain is so heavy, she’s just a dark figure moving across the bright window. When the lights finally switch off, I’m out of the car like a shot, intending to snatch her while she locks up.

  Crossing the street quickly, I put both hands over her eyes and she freezes. I bend down and whisper in her ear. “Good night, princess?”

  She tries to blink and her lashes flutter in the palm of my hand, tickling me. I drop the bullshit and spin her around, pushing her up against the wet glass in the pouring rain.

  “Missed your face,” I tell her.

  “It’s been twenty minutes,” she says.

  “Well I was thinking about how you were gonna get home since I didn’t see a car outside?”

  “The taxi’s around the corner.”

  I smile at her. “Cancel it. You’re not paying for a taxi when I’m here anyway. I’ll drop you home.”

  She narrows her eyes at me. “I thought you were going to a party?”

  “I’m still hoping you’ll come with me.”

  “Why? Why are you so interested?”

  I shrug. “I like you. And that’s saying something because I don’t fucking like anyone.”

  “Again, why? All we do is bicker.”

  I laugh at her because it’s true. “You do bicker a lot right enough, but you bite too — and that’s been on my hot list since the day I created it.”

  My laugh must be infectious because she smiles at that one. “Where’s the party?”

  “My house.”

  “I’m not going back there,” she tells me.

  “Was it really that awful?”

  “Uhhh… yes.”

  “Will you come if I promise I’m not going to try anything?”

  She searches my face, looking for some sign that I’m lying. I’m not lying. I’m not going to fuck her, she’s not ready yet.

  “I’d come if I believe’d your promises.”

  I flash her a smile. “I’ve kept my end of the deal this far, even when you broke it.”

  She’s thinking about it. Such a good fucking girl.

  I take her hand. “Come on, we’re getting wet.”

  “I need to cancel the taxi.”

  “Fuck the taxi.”

  Chapter 23

  Grace

  If someone had told me twenty minutes ago that I’d be sitting in Malachy Hunter’s big flashy Mercedes, on the way to a party in his big flashy castle, I’d have rammed them in the knee.

  Or more likely bit them in the arm.

  But here I am, sitting in Malachy’s car on the way to his house.

  There is something about him and I don’t know what the fuck it is. I don’t particularly like him, but I like being around him. I like looking at him. He’s like a painting you could stare at all day, beautiful in such a haunting way. But it’s not just his looks. I like sparring with him. I like his jibes. I like bringing him down a notch and waiting for him to bring me down with him.

  I like the excitement of wondering who will win.

  Him showing up tonight reminded me of that.

  Maybe I’m just romanticizing it in my head because I’ve been away from him for nearly two weeks. I know he’s dangerous. I know this is a bad idea. But I can’t help myself.

  And what is the worst that could happen? He fucks me? At least I’d know what that felt like. At least I could live for an hour or two without being wrapped up in cotton wool, without being treated like I’m about to break at any second.

  The trees of the woods surrounding the house rise up over my head and this time I’m not as anxious as I was the first time. I don’t know if it’s because of what he did by forcing me to face my demons, or if it’s because he proved it wasn’t ever really the woods in the first place — but either way my palms aren’t sweating and I’m not getting heart palpitations.

  Still wouldn’t want to get in there again though.

  He pulls the car up at the side of the house and as soon as he comes around and opens the do
or, I hear the dull thud of music.

  So he wasn’t lying; there actually is a party.

  I almost feel a rush of relief at the thought of it, which is strange for me, considering I’ve never been one to go to parties. Even if I’d wanted to I probably wouldn’t have been allowed. But he wasn’t lying, he wasn’t luring me here under false pretenses at least, and that’s a start.

  He takes my hand and we head inside. I glance in the big mirror in the hallway and suddenly feel conscious about my appearance. I look like a drowned rat. My hair is soaking and stuck to my head. The light jacket I had on is soaked right through. Under it, I’m wearing a plain white top and an old pair of jeans.

  I’m not dressed for a party.

  But fuck it. I’ve got nothing to prove.

  He leads me up the stairs to the same place Lucia told me was the pool room, and bursts through the door. He still has my hand held tightly, banishing any thoughts I had of hesitating.

  “Oh you’re back? Thought you’d fucking drowned, from the time you were taking,” a boy, clearly his friend, shouts over the music to him.

  “They fucking look like they’ve drowned,” Craig shouts from the bar.

  “Grace, this is Josh.” He nods his head to the guy who shouted first. “And that’s Ross,” he says, nodding to someone who’s taking a shot with the pool cue. He bends down and whispers in my ear. “The rest of the cunts don’t matter.”

  I nod and give him a smile. There are other guys here. And girls. Girls that are nothing like me. They’ve actually dressed for a party, for starters. But considering Malachy doesn’t even ask for or remember other girls names, I don’t feel as intimidated as I thought I would.

  One of them comes sauntering over, wearing a tight red bandage dress that leaves very little to the imagination. “I’m Dani,” she says, looking between me and Malachy and finally landing on me.