Page 73 of The Game
“Yeah, Tristan, a part of me loves him and always will. He fought to get me back to you, but you’re so fucking stubborn all you want to see is something so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. We all could’ve died. Get the fuck over it. You’re not the only one in pain here.”
My eyes swish to hers. She’s…new, but not, and I cannot decide how it makes me feel. She must see that notion reflected in my gaze, for her face softens slightly before she wipes at her tears.
“I’m not the same person. You have to accept that,” she whispers.
Brows furrowing, I continue to study her. No matter what, Alice would’ve changed, whether through college, her career, any number of things. This transition was just…too quick to wrap my mind around, and I’ve always been the more emotional of the two.
“Then let me get to know who you are now without pushing me away,” I say, voice gravelly with my emotion. Chewing her cheek, she considers this but eventually nods softly. My chest tightens at the sight, my mind and heart unable to determine where they want to land on the spectrum of emotions. Peace seems to want to prevail right now; I am exhausted, as is she.
Little does she know, I’ve been hunting lately.
And I know how to find this Teddy.
* * *
Three days later
Alice is jittery beside me in the car. I refused to divulge where we were going, and when she’d given Jameson that look as though she wanted him to come along, I’d also refused. This needs to be between her and I, this part of her healing journey. I’m still fucking pissed, but I am trying to better understand her, and if this is what I have to do…so be it.
As soon as I turn off the highway, my skin prickles. It’s uncharacteristically sunny today, but it is deceptive; it’s barely thirty-five degrees. The woods are painted golden where the low winter sun permeates the canopy, and the forest floor below is bursting in hues of yellow rot. Alice shifts again in her seat, and I have to wonder if she recognizes this road, or at the very least, the foreboding feel of it.
I’ve never been one to put stock in ghost stories, but have to admit, there is something in the air, a chilled warning that the dead are keen to push on the living. They seek peace, and I cannot blame them, especially as the façade of the building looms into view at the end of this dirt road. Looking it up online didn’t do it justice; it is fucking terrifying in person.
Alice’s face whips to me, her slim brows warring in confusion as I put my car in park and lean back, frowning at her.
“Will you be warm enough?” I ask softly, though the gravelly note still tinges my voice. I hate that I am willingly doing this, but I just fucking want her back, and at this point I’d give anything to have her.
Even if it means tearing out my own heart.
“For what?” she whispers, voice trembling with her nerves. Her fear is endearing, brings her back to that littlebabochkaI fell in love with, and it makes me smirk.
“I thought New Alice was afraid of nothing.”
“I never said that!” she huffs. Shrugging, I recline my chair and lean back some more.
“Fine. Don’t take the risk because you’re scared. Just let me know when you want to go home.”
The thought of lingering here in this evil place makes my skin crawl. How many hopeless and destitute walked through those hanging double doors and never walked out? How many screams paint the walls? How many souls haunt the bones of this building?
I can feel her glare peeling away layers of my skin, and I fight my smile. She’s still just as easy to push—if not more so, and her reactions are far more intense. I find I am enjoying it.
With an aggravated huff, she exits and slams my door, tugging her puffy jacket tighter around her shoulders as her breath puffs out in miniature clouds and disappears. She doesn’t look back, and in that I see her new iron-strength. She doesn’t need us, and that notion hits me square in the gut. She stays because part of her still wants us.
And as her slender form slips daintily between the wrought iron gates to hell itself, a pair of sinister, teal eyes watch me from above.
CHAPTER 36
Alice
Even with the sunlight filtering through the trees in golden beams, this place is haunting. My head snaps from left to right, my brain still conjuring up images of ghostly beings, although today it’s more than likely birds or squirrels. But the fear is there, and in that fear, I feel alive for the first time since I awoke from my coma.
To be out for a week battling something that killed my child and should’ve killed me is something I’ve not quite been able to wrap my mind around yet. Tristan and Jameson were there, both of them turned into these new, apprehensive versions of themselves. The change was so drastic it frightened me. And then Jameson had held my hand and told me everything, voice monotonous and robotic, and I’d rolled over and sealed myself off from the world.
The only thing I’ve wanted this entire time has been Teddy. Although Jameson kept his cool, as soon as he’d begun telling me about the baby and subsequent loss of my right ovary, Tristan had stood up and stormed out. I suppose the rest of my interactions with them have been born of my trauma, past and more recent. To not bring up anything too heavy is how I’ve been coping, saving all of us from heartache, but now it’s imploding, and I need an outlet. Seeing Ellie definitely helped, and getting angry with Tristan shocked both of us, I think. If I can tell myself to just take one step at a time, both in reality and metaphorically, then maybe this will become easier to bear.
The gaping doorway leads into smothering darkness, but through the broken windows, some light seeps in and paints the debris-strewn floor in more soft golden hues. Smiling softly, I close my eyes and breathe in the familiar scent of rot and decay, something Teddy forced me to find comfort in.
How odd, that after all I’ve been through now, I’d rather seek this darkness than run and hide from it. My fear is still there, more out of instinct and self-preservation now, but…when I stare into that depthless void, I don’t imagine the things staring back to be evil—just misunderstood.