Page 73 of Lucky 14

The room is silent. What is there to say?

I wait for Oakley to start twitching or fall asleep, but with how willingly he ate the food, I know that’s not going to happen.

My body grows heavy, but there’s still that sick ache. Eyeing the meds on the bed, I know I need to take them, but I’m afraid. Of what, I’m not sure. Of needing something from Oakley? Of feeling better and falling asleep?

“I loved blue ICEEs.”

I startle, glancing up at the man on the floor. He’s staring up at the ceiling.

“You asked me about my childhood. Blue ICEEs were my favorite. I’d get one every day before playing my games. I loved gaming.”

I stare at Oakley as his chest rises and falls. “And I lied earlier. I didn’t have friends. You were right.” His face twists, and silence fills the room.

Discomfort itches in my chest. His cheeks are pink, and he’s frowning, not looking at me. It feels like he’s telling the truth. Finally.

Oakley’s voice drops soft. “I’m a shit person, but I won’t hurt you, Holli.” Then the silence stretches on again for so long that I think he’s done talking. Then, so faintly I think I might be making it up, I hear, “Not anymore.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

Day 5

Holland fucking Weathersfield.

“No, hold steady—” I’m cut off by a torrent of cold water that rushes over my body. Larry, the maintenance guy helping me, looks over at me with a ring of white around his eyes.

This prick. I want to snarl at him, but instead I grip the tree limb that has ripped through the roof and steady it. Larry bumped it, hailing pieces of wood, roofing, and some water down with it. We need to keep it stable so it doesn’t take the whole roof down.

I stare up at the sky visible through the roof, blood boiling. Wisely, Larry scuttles off.

Someone should pay. Someone should fucking pay.

The hatred curls up in hot energy, and I heave my leg up, dropping it down on the branch with a thunk. The branch doesn’t crack, which just pisses me off more.

I can’t stop seeing Holland’s face, and not the smiling one I found on her social media. The angry one she leveled at me right before she jumped into the creek, full of fire and hatred and desperation. It’s triggered this weird energy in my veins.

Fucking why? I’ve watched men take their last fucking breath while they beg me for mercy. What the hell is wrong with me?

My chest goes cold, and I stomp the log again. This time, my foot slips, and I have to catch my balance.

I know what the hell is wrong with me. I like it when women defy me. I like it a little too much.

I have to focus. Players who shouldn’t be here are here, and people are lighting my forest on fire. Someone is trying to sabotage me from the inside. And somehow it’s fucking working?

I’ve been fishing around with the employees, and they’ve been acting…odd. Giving me hesitant looks and walking on eggshells, which sets my teeth on edge. Why do I feel like the enemy in my own game? Despite that, Larry eventually told me that it was a player who started the fire. Unfortunately, that player is dead, so I can’t ask him who helped him. But someone did.

I kick at a smaller branch, sending it flying across the room. Somehow, I still feel just as angry.

I haven’t even been able to keep track of where my players are on the map since I haven’t been able to find my tracking device. The amount of shit I’ve let fall through the cracks in this game… I’m going to have to go to the small house to check my computer.

Storming out onto the patio, I lock gazes with someone smoking a cigarette on the back porch. It’s Riley.

She winks at me. “Hey, boss.”

The careless way she’s holding the smoke and the cocky smile she flashes at me make a tingling heat wash over me. It’s like she can see how fucked up everything is, and she enjoys it. In fact, I wonder if she’s a part of all this shit.

Stalking up to her, I snatch the cigarette from her hands. “Don’t burn my map down.” I try to ignore the way my dick hardens in my pants.

Riley raises a lazy eyebrow. “Heaven forbid a woman catches a breather after fucking her woman in the woods.”