Page 21 of Dangerous Games

Wiz kills the guys ahead of us, leaving us alone in a stone room to figure out how to get out. There’s always a puzzle somewhere that opens a secret door.

“Shit, for real?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

I hate that my dad’s stuff still bothers me as a grown adult. No matter how hard you try, some stuff never leaves you.

“Sorry about it, babe.”

“It’s not your fault. Let’s finish this quest.”

I spent the next few hours playing online with Wiz. He didn’t ask about my dad again, and I didn’t offer up anything more. It felt nice to tune out the outside world and get lost in my fantasy world. What I wouldn’t give to live in it right now.

My life likes to do this funny thing where it never allows me to enjoy the wins, no matter how big or small, for very long. Something always happens that sets me back, and this time…I don’t think I would have been able to recover without the hush money I’m getting. I know the strings that come along with the money will catch up with me eventually, but well, one problem at a time.

By the time I sign off for the night, the sun is rising.

“This is going to be such a long day,” I groan as I lean back on the couch and rub my temples. I can already feel a low-grade migraine starting. That always pairs well when you work in customer service.

I could try to get a few hours of sleep before I need to be up to open the store, but I have a feeling that’s just going to make my migraine worse.

I need food.

The kind that I don’t have to make.

After showering and putting on a light layer of makeup to attempt to conceal the sleep-deprived bags under my eyes, I grab my bag and head out the door. I tuck an earbud into each ear on my walk to The Drip. Hello Operator by The White Stripes sounds in my ear, immediately getting me out of my head and my mind back in its wandering state. The best way to dissociate from your life when video games aren’t an option is to think of a scenario or scene and plant yourself in it as if that’s your real life and not the one you’re currently living. Some might call me a dreamer, while others call me a fucking weirdo. I think it’s an innovative way of handling things.

Once inside The Drip, I order my usual cold brew and a breakfast sandwich before finding a table in the corner to hide at while I wait for my order to be delivered.

I people-watch through the window, zoning out as I watch the world pass by.

“Is this seat taken?” A smooth, deep voice startles me from my thoughts and pulls my attention away from the street. Before I can answer, his hand is already pulling out the seat across from me.

I look at him, a little shocked at how forward he’s being and assuming I would say yes.

“What if I told you I’m waiting for my boyfriend to join me?” I ask as I take the earbud out and meet his gaze for the first time, and my breath catches in my throat.

His eyes are a deep brown, but not the kind you get lost in like Gio’s. No, these are the kind you know trouble follows.

“If a man calls himself a man at all, he wouldn’t leave a beautiful woman like yourself alone. Especially when she has that look on her face,” he says as he takes a seat, settling in.

“What kind of look?” I ask as I tilt my head, confused.

“The kind that looks like you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

My head moves back as I study him, doing everything I can not to show how his words affected me.

Who is this guy?

“I don’t have the weight of the world on my shoulders,” I mutter, looking anywhere but at him now. I feel as if he’s stripped me and now I’m splayed wide open for everyone to watch, and I hate it.

Where is my order?

I look around the coffee shop, hoping to see my order on its way to me or to focus on anything but him.

“I would beg to differ, but that’s an argument for another day,” he retorts.

His chair creaks, drawing my attention back to him. He’s now relaxed back with his arms crossed, staring at me with an easy smirk covering his lips. He’s dressed in a tailored suit, much like one Gio would wear, except this one doesn’t hold a candle to his. His hair is slicked with gel into a side part with a swoosh like all the models you see do. On paper, he looks like a normal guy. There’s something about him I can’t shake, though. Call it a woman’s intuition or whatever you want, but pair those eyes with that smirk and it feels like he knows something that I don’t. Which is crazy because I’ve never laid eyes on this man before in my entire life.