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All this time, I thought that there was something wrong, broken in me. But it washer.
And now she’d hurt him—my dad.
Enough was e-fucking-nough.
I knew Hiram. He’d come to the house a few times for barbecues with his kids when I was little—his eldest son, Dylan, was a bit of a womanizing prick, but that would only make him easy to manipulate.
Hurting me, that was one thing.
But no one made my dad feel like he wasn’t good enough.
Better watch out, Hiram. I’m coming for you.
Kohl
You really going to be shy now, kitten?
“I’m gonna kill them,” Vic hissed.
“Who?” I asked, leaning to brush our sides together. “Not like you’re gonna storm into whatever stuffy boardroom they discuss this shit in and start cutting throats.”
We were dirty. Blood sticking to our clothes. Exhaustion weighed me down, but still… I couldn't help but love how close we were. Just being by her side was enough.
I was pissed about what happened, angry. I wanted to get revenge for her. But most importantly, I wanted her safe. I wanted her to be happy.
And I was fucking relieved that we both made it out of the games alive.
“Watch me,” she growled under her breath, her hand finding mine to twine our fingers together.
We—along with the remaining players—stood in the waiting area, our eyes trained on the large screens. Just a few hours ago, this place had been packed so close it was hard to breathe while brushing up against someone, but after the games were over, there was more than enough space for the remaining players.
I caught Yellow and Pink easily, both of them staying as far away from us as possible. They had scored pretty well on the leaderboards, but nothing to brag about.
Pink looked our way, their eyes turning into slits as they glared. Yellow nudged him causing him to look forward.
We weren’t allowed to kill each pther now, but I could give them a reminder if they so much as threatened to invade Vic and I’s little bubble.
It was a little disheartening that out of five hundred Ghosts, only thirty-seven made it out alive—even fewer unscathed. It wasn’t always like this, with so few of the players remaining, but this year had been especially brutal.
Even the Seekers had taken a major hit. We stood tall, our colorful masks lighting the early morning. But not without serious damage.
Clothes were torn. Some were still bleeding. Others looked like they had bathed in a pool of blood.
Horrific sight.
We’d survived the night, but at what cost? All the lives we took meant nothing to The Company, but would weigh on us foryears.
I glanced at Vic, taking in her blood-streaked face and deep scowl.
“They tanked our fucking rank, Kohl.”
I glance at the big screen, slightly obscured by the orangish sky. Three pictures appeared, two Seekers and a Ghost, with their usernames in big font along with their scores. The rest of us who had survived the night had our names scrolling along the side of the screen, much smaller than the others.
Who cares that you lived if you didn’t win?
“This is bullshit,” Vic grumbled as the winners moved to take the podium. “We should be up there!”
She was right, of course. Viewership made up a lot of your final score, and since the mirror maze, we’d been sitting comfortably in spots one and two.
