I run to Nico, grabbing fistfuls of his jacket and dragging him upward, but holyshit,he’s heavy. Blood streams down his face from a gash on his forehead, but his eyes are open. He tries to get his feet under him, but he’s too dazed.
I get low, hook my shoulder under his arm, and lift with my legs.
“Come on,” I grit out, my voice sounding harsh and commanding in a way that doesn’t sound like me at all. “Get your ass in the fuckingcar.”
He gets to his feet, and I throw him toward the passenger door, one hand already reaching for the handle.
A fist clenches my hair and jerks me backward. I try to scream, but a hand clamps over my mouth before any sound can escape.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he snarls, spitting into my ear.
My feet leave the ground as I’m dragged away from Nico. I try to get free, but an arm loops around my throat and pulls. Pain explodes behind my eyes. I hear Nico screaming my name, but his voice is getting farther away. I will make myself stay conscious. Once I’m gone, I’m gone forever, and Bob will be alone, and… Nico…
CHAPTER 37
“The question isn’t whether love fails. The question is how much pain it takes to get there.”
—Interview with Alan Morrow, conducted by Special Agent Donald Dellman, 2001
My head pounds like Ray’s guys are jackhammering inside my skull, and there’s a taste in my mouth like I’ve been licking pennies. I force my eyes open, but all I see is darkness so complete that I’m scared I’ve gone blind. Then I remember.
No.
I tear at the hood over my head, fingers clumsy as I yank it off and throw it on the ground. I blink hard, trying to focus on the massive space that comes into view around me. It’s a huge room in another abandoned building, so big I can’t see all the walls through the shadows pooling around me. The only light comes from a single bulb attached to a wire hanging from the ceiling, casting a faint spotlight over me. The floors are made of white and gray tiles like those used in hospitals, but many are peeling up or gone, and the remaining ones are covered in rubble.
There’s an electronic crackle, followed by a low hum, before a tinny voice comes over the speakers.
“You’d been watching me, then I began watching you,” the voice says. “Are you ready for your first trial to begin?”
The sound echoes in the huge space, amplified by what sounds like a cheap PA system. My body locks up. My brain unplugs.
“I must say, I’ve been looking forward tothisone,” the Game Master continues. “It’s not every day I get to play with such interesting liars. I’ve spent years testing the lie you people tell yourselves about love conquering all. I’ll tell you right now: love does not conquer all. Given enough pressure, it always breaks.”
Okay, so not only did this asshole kidnap me, but he’s also going to make me sit through a TED Talk about the futility of human connection?Fuckthis guy.
“This is not the typical connection I study, but there’s something far more interesting here that I couldn’t pass up,” the Game Master says. “The psychology of it fascinates me. Can someone like Nicholas ever change? Or will his true nature always win in the end?”
Oh.
No… no… no. NO.
Fabric rustles behind me. I twist around and there he is—Nico slumped in a chair with his back to me, a foot away, with a canvas bag covering his head like he’s waiting for his beheading.
I spring up from my chair and sprint toward the wall because there has to be a door or window. Some way we can get out of here. I find a door, but the handle doesn’t budge. I move on to the next one. And another one, but obviously they’re all locked because this psychopath isn’t a moron. Panic wants to take over, make me scream and pound on the metal until my hands bleed.
“Return to your seat,” the Game Master orders, sounding almost bored, like I’m wasting his time.
I catch a red light blinking in the corner near the ceiling. The Game Master is watching this from some safe room somewhere else in the building, getting his rocks off. He wants me to panic. I need to keep my wits about me.
I return to my chair, perching on the edge so I can run if I need to.
“Nico?” I whisper. “Are you awake?”
He says nothing. I’d think he was asleep if his back weren’t so straight, and his knuckles weren’t white from gripping the armrests.
I want to say something to him, want some reassurance that I’m not alone in this, but the speakers crackle before I can get any words out.
“Let’s get some things out of the way,” the Game Master says. “Your little troupe is not coming to find you. Your phones have been destroyed, your handy-dandy gadgets have been removed from your person, and we have crossed state lines. Participate in my trials, and one of you will leave alive.”
