Page 21 of The Killing Game

Smug little shit.

“You’ve got that look on your face. What?” I ask.

Sam shrugs, schooling her face back to a cooled expression, then begins picking up the candles in front of her. She starts making her way towards the living room before responding.

“I knew it. I just wanted to hear you say it,” she throws back over her shoulder.

I scramble off my stool to follow her.

“What the hell do you mean, ‘you knew?’” I ask.

Sam starts placing candles around the room in quick succession. I’m standing in the middle of the living room, following her in a circle.

“I mean, I know. It’s clear there’s something between the two of you. It’s been obvious for years. I just knew you put the health of your friendship before your love life. That’s why you go on those sexcapades while on your book tours. It’s safer for you than expressing your true feelings.”

I gape at her, speechless. Did she really just psychoanalyze me like Dr. Phil?

“That’s…that’s ridiculous. Jason might be conventionally attractive, and have a great body, and maybe his dick is the best boyfriend dick I’ve seen, but that doesn’t mean I’ve always had a thing for him,” I argue, crossing my arms and biting my lip.

Sam turns around, pointing a manicured nail at my pose.

“That, right there, proves you’re lying,” she says.

I drop my arms immediately. I look everywhere else except at her, avoiding the reality of this discussion. Sam comes over and grabs my hands. She squeezes them in her warm grasp. Her slender fingers pull my chin to turn my face towards her own. Her smile is soft and reassuring as she holds my gaze.

“If it’s the truth, it’s okay. I’ll still love you like a sister. I’ll support whatever crazy decision you make. I only want you to be honest with yourself,” she says, squeezing my hand in hers.

I take a few deep breaths, standing there with her, hand in hand. I can never express how grateful I am for her friendship. She truly is the beautiful sunshine in my dark, little world and I love her for it.

I close my eyes and take a steady inhale.

“Fine. Yes, there’s something between us. I just don’t know what,” I say breathlessly.

Sam drops my hands, jumping up and down in front of me.

“I knew it!” She laughs, wrapping me in a hug. “I’ve been waiting for this day to happen. Finally.”

I grimace at her assumption, but hug her back. Laughing along with her, I shake my head at her cute, little dramatics. She’s so adorable when she gets excited about happy things.

“You don’t look happy, though,” she observes, holding me at arm’s length.

“Because Jason thinks he can bully me into submission. You know damn well that’s not how my relationships usually go,” I say.

Sam shrugs before wandering off to finish finding new homes for her candles.

“I’m not saying that you don’t deserve to be put in your place. You’ve always given him shit. However, if you want to be on top,” she turns back to give me a wicked grin, “then you need to beat him at his own game. Stop being Ashe, the friend and be Ashe, the horror goddess.”

TWELVE

9:11 P.M.

Within the hour, the main room of the cabin is glowing like the set of The Elvira Show. Candles littered the room, the innocent flames flickering shadows across the walls. If there wasn’t the looming danger of death, it would be quite beautiful.

Both boys are still absent, working on their designated tasks for the evening.

So much for, “I’ll be back in less than five minutes.”

With nothing else to occupy our racing thoughts, Sam and I decide it’s time to start a fire. One by one, we place the logs into the hearth until a crude box is formed. I find some old newspapers in the kitchen to use for kindling. Retrieving her lighter from the deck, Sam lights the yellowed paper until every inch is covered by the orange warmth.