The Death Games Page 19

“Poor little cockslut,” Statue-Lea crooned wickedly. “Too weak to fight, too pathetic to win. You’re the most despicable, disgusting creature I’ve ever set eyes on. So beg, snivel, and grovel like the—”

  Oh, fuck this bitch!

  With an enraged roar, I tackled the stone sculpture, my body aching at the collision like I’d hugged a brick wall. We landed hard, and I retrieved the Glock from my boot and pointed it at his marble forehead. “I am not weak! I’m a whiny bitch, I know! I complain and I deflect because I’m terrified of what people will see when they actually see me.”

  Gasping and sobbing, I glowered at the statue that was supposed to me, my horrible qualities, my own worst enemy. “I hurt people and push them away, but I protect the ones I love. I defend my family and look out for my sister. I help those who need it because that’s what decent people do. My parents loved me, even when I was a fucking pain. And Megan was my best friend. I’m not perfect. But I am not weak!”

  And just as suddenly as the statue had animated, it solidified to lifeless stone. It shuddered and cracked and exploded into dust. I sat on the pebbled ground, gun forgotten at my side.

  Grant stood beside me, his face pinched with trauma, and I wiped my nose with the back of my hand as I staggered to my feet. He glared at the offending fountain, a different statue now gracing the marble art. A blindfolded woman stood tall and proud, a set of scales in one hand and a sword in the other. Water bubbled over the edges of the scales, splashing into the pool at the sculpture’s feet, and I swallowed thickly as I banished the vision of Statue-Lea’s glittering eyes.

  “What the fuck was that?” Grant arrested my attention, his dark stare glassy.

  “I think…” I sniffled, swiping angrily at my stubborn tears. “I think that was us, our deepest fears, our regrets. I think we had to face ourselves.”

  He nodded. “I think you’re right.”

  A slight breeze blew through the courtyard, and the foliage parted to reveal a narrow trail

  “Did we… did we make it?”

  The boyish grin spread his lips, and my heart lurched as he reached for me. “Yeah, I think we did.”

  As I stretched to take his hand, a path opened into the courtyard from the maze, and someone stumbled into our midst. Chuka, bald head shining, skidded to a stop as he noticed us, but his surprise gave way to a vicious sneer. Snarling like an animal, he shoved me to the ground before decking Grant so hard, he fell with a heavy thud. He groaned but didn’t rise.

  “Grant!” I crawled toward him, but Chuka had other ideas. He kicked me in the gut, and I doubled over as agony roared through my body. I barely had a chance to scream before he punched me in the face and twisted his fingers into my curls. Dragging me toward the circular pool, he muttered to himself under his breath as my head swam.

  As he heaved me over the lip of the fountain, my body revolted as understanding sunk in. “No!”

  Chuka cut off my cry of alarm with a husked apology, shoving my face beneath the surface. I choked on the icy water, my body flailing in panic as I tried to upset his firm grip. I wasn’t strong enough, and my lungs rebelled against my will, sucking in water.

  Choking, drowning, I struggled to no avail. Logic and thought flew out the window as I surrendered to the overwhelming hysteria. I was going to drown. I was going to die. Again.

  My lungs burned and my blood screamed for oxygen, but Chuka’s grasp was unrelenting. The moment my vision dimmed and my body started to shut down, his grip evaporated. I rolled out of the water, hacking. Purging the water from my lungs, I struggled to breathe as Chuka and Grant tangled on the ground. They spat curses and swapped punches, and I flopped on the ground like a fish out of water as I forced my unresponsive limbs to move.

  Light gleamed off metal, and a cracked cry of alarm scraped my broken throat as Chuka wielded a weapon aimed at Grant’s chest. In a desperate attempt to save himself, Grant executed a swift self-defense motion, unarming Chuka and spinning the blade. Chuka’s momentum was unstoppable, and the razor-sharp metal sunk into his gut as he crashed into Grant’s body.

  With a wet choke, Chuka fell to the side, the knife embedded to the hilt in his stomach, and Grant crab-walked away from the dying man. His wide, horrified eyes gaped as Chuka shuddered a final breath and then went still. Grant whimpered, a sound I never knew he was capable of uttering.

  “Grant.” My voice broke, and I crawled on hands to knees to him, swallowing past the burning pain in my throat. “Grant.”

  “I didn’t mean to,” he whispered, almost to himself, as I reached him.

  “I know, I know. Come here.”

  He hauled me into his sweaty body and clung to me as I soaked his clothes with fountain water. My fingers tangled in his messy hair, and he released an agonized moan, burying his face in my neck.

  “Are you okay?” He repeated the question three times before I managed to answer.

  “Yes. You saved me. I’m okay.”

  We held each other for several minutes before Grant loosened his grasp. He blinked rapidly, dispelling tears that shamed him. My fingers flitted over the swollen lump on his cheekbone. Chuka’s punch had been powerful; I was shocked Grant was conscious at all.

  “Hey, you okay?” I rubbed his shoulder, turning his face away from Chuka’s body. “Don’t look. It’s okay, just don’t look.”

  “I killed him.”

  For the first time since I met him, he looked entirely demolished, his shoulders curling inward as his hands trembled. Scared. Weak. Tired. I suppressed my own fear and gripped his chin firmly. “Look at me!” His bloodshot eyes rose to meet mine, and I softened my expression marginally. “You did what you had to do. You saved my life. If not for your actions, I’d be dead.”

  I pecked his sweaty brow, then brushed our noses together, whispering urgently. “I know this is awful, but we’re running out of time. We have to go, Grant. We have to go.”

  Shaken from his trance, he nodded and staggered to his feet, pulling me with him. With a parting glance at Chuka, he faced the exit trail and tugged me into him. He hugged me, burying his face in my drenched hair.

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  I withdrew from the embrace and smiled wanly. “Thank you for stopping him. You could have just let him…” My voice broke, and I cleared my throat. “You didn’t have to do that. Thank you.”

  “I told you at the start that we would finish together. I meant what I said, Lea.” His forehead met mine. “We’re in this together. Right?”

  “Right.”

  Cradling my face in his hands, in the middle of the third task that determined our fate, with an unknown audience watching, he smiled, then kissed me. I tasted the copper tang of his blood and the salt of his sweat, the bitterness of his sorrow and sweetness of his hope. And I kissed him back; I gave him everything.

  When we parted, he smiled sweetly, and I nuzzled his nose. He sighed and looked toward the new path with fresh resolve, but his contented expression morphed to one of horror as he shoved me to the ground with a panicked roar.

  A gunshot rang through the air, and I screamed as Grant jerked, his eyes widening like saucers. Blood bloomed over his shirt, staining his torso, and he coughed, the sound thick and moist. Scarlet leaked from the corner of his lips as he gasped my name, and then he collapsed, like a puppet with its strings cut, as my heart ripped in two.

  “Grant!” A cold, numb horror washed over me as Grant struggled for breath, staring into the sky. “No, no, no. Grant!”

  I crawled to his side, scanning the area for threats and spotted Natalia. Her cool mask was engaged, but I swore I saw a flash of regret pass over her sharp features as she lowered her gun. Without a word, she turned and ran down the final path, disappearing into the fog, leaving me to fret over Grant’s bleeding torso. The bullet hole in his chest gaped like an open maw, blood pouring from the wound and painting the ground beneath my knees.

  “Grant, stay with me.” My mouth formed words of comfort as my hands moved to stop the gus
hing crimson, but my mind knew there was no hope. I’d seen enough wounded animals to know when the pool of blood grew this big this quickly, there was nothing to do but put them out of their misery.

  I recoiled from the thought, every fiber of my being shrieking at the undeniable truth, and I ripped my shirt from my body, using it as a sponge. It was drenched within seconds. Guiding his hands, I pressed them to my shirt over his wound.

  “Keep pressure on,” I said, but his hands fell away, limp. “Grant, you have to keep pressure on it!”

  “It’s okay, green.” His thin voice was a mere whisper on the wind, and tears blurred my vision. “I think, uh, this is the end of the line for me.”

  I captured his face in my bloodied hands, burning anger searing my blood. “Don’t you fucking say that! We stay together. We make it out together. You promised.” My lower lip trembled as the tears spilled down my cheeks. “You promised.”

  Utilizing whatever strength he had, he trailed a single finger over my jaw, his dark eyes devouring my features. “I know. I lied.”

  “I can’t do this without you.” I rested our foreheads together as my tears dripped over his cheeks like raindrops. “Please.”

  “When you make it out, call my dad. Tell him I’m sorry.”

  I shook my head, hiding my face in his shoulder. “You’ll do it yourself. I’ll fix you.”

  “Look at me, Lea.” Refusing to obey, I squeezed my eyes shut, and he convulsed beneath me. “Lea? Lea…”

  “Yeah?” I murmured, but he didn’t respond. With a sob, I opened my eyes and lifted my head, blinking through blurry moisture as my voice played like a broken record. “Yeah?”

  Once again, he didn’t answer. And he never would. His chest was still beneath me, his eyes open and empty, staring into eternity.

  “Boston?” I shook him, but he didn’t blink. “Grant? Grant!”

  Something inside me splintered, and I wailed, burrowing into his cooling neck as my body wracked with sobs. I wept for the man I barely knew, yet to a certain extent, loved. I mourned the loss of his boyish grin, his irritatingly charming accent, and the heat of his body spooning mine. I cried until I was a gutted, empty husk.

  Only then, with nothing left to give, did I pull away. With fingers stained in his blood, I slid his eyes closed and stood. Detached, I loaded my shotgun and confirmed the Glock still in my boot. I faced the only path left with newfound determination, Natalia my new target.

  “Goodbye, Boston.” I bid my farewell as I left his body behind, unable to take him with me. “I’ll tell your dad. I promise.”

  And with that, I charged down the trail, a frigid fury enveloping every nerve ending until I vibrated with potent rage. I tasted metal and ash, and I pushed my legs faster. Despite her significant lead, I was going to catch Natalia, even if it killed me.

  The final path was paved in cobblestone and blanketed by thick fog; it curved and serpentined like a snake. Simple boobytraps lay triggered in Natalia’s wake, and hope sparked in my chest. If she had to move slowly to dismantle the traps, I had a better chance of catching up. I prayed to whatever Afterlife gods existed, begging for favor as my feet sprouted wings.

  When I staggered around the final corner, I blinked in the light of a golden archway in the distance. The metal gleamed in the dusk, practically blinding me as my eyes adjusted, but my focus zeroed in on the figure currently racing toward it, her dirty blond hair falling out of her severe bun. Natalia.

  I sprinted after her, stubbornness and wrath the only fuel remaining in my weak limbs. “Natalia!”

  She was too far ahead for me to catch her before she crossed the finish line, and despair threatened to drag me to the ground. But I couldn’t give up. I promised Grant I would deliver his message. I promised myself to avenge his death. It couldn’t end like this!

  Slinging my shotgun over my shoulder, I retrieved my Glock and pointed it skyward, squeezing the trigger. It would be the only warning she received. The ring of the gunshot must have startled her because she tripped, almost falling to the ground, and I sped my weary legs.

  “Stop!” I shrieked, tucking my Glock away and leveling my shotgun at her back as she righted herself, yards away but close enough I could hit her. “One more step and you’ll get buckshot to the back.”

  Surprisingly, she heeded my threat. Her chest heaved as she cautiously spun to face me, wisps of flaxen hair sticking to her dirt-smeared cheeks. My finger twitched on the trigger as dull light gleamed off metal in her hand—her gun. It rested idly at her side as she watched me, her expression placid.

  She didn’t appear afraid, and that, in and of itself, incensed me. Fury and grief ruled all logical thought as I tightened my grip on my gun, aiming at her emotionless face. If she so much as sneezed, I was going to kill her.

  “Why? Why did you—”

  “Why?” Her brow raised incredulously. “This is a competition. What did you expect?”

  I shook my head, unable to accept it. “You could have just left us. You already made it past the fountain. You had no reason to—”

  With an impatient scoff, she shook her head. “It wasn’t personal.”

  “It was personal to me!” I choked on a sob, and her mask cracked. For a moment, sympathy flickered through her eyes.

  “You’re not going to kill me, Lea.” Her voice softened as she read my inner turmoil and grasped the barrel of my gun. “You’re not a killer.”

  I hated the truth in her words. Even now, as my hatred raged through my blood, my resolve weakened. I wanted to blow her brains out with my shotgun, yet my finger refused to clench the trigger. I had never shot a human being before. Could I really kill one in cold blood?

  “You’re in pain, and in another world, I would pity that. But I need to go home. I need to go back to my daughter, and there is no room for empathy.” She swallowed and squeezed her eyes shut. “You’re not a parent. You could never understand the extent I’m willing to go to for her.

  “The people I worked for are the kind of scum that would give innocent boys like you nightmares. And when they realize I died, that I failed, they will take my daughter.” Her eyes opened, and the tears swimming her dark depths shocked me. “The things they will do to her to pay for my sins would turn your blood to ice. No one deserves such a fate. My little girl—”

  Unable to continue, she turned away as if embarrassed by her emotion. My gun wavered, the barrel dropping slowly as she fought for control.

  “I will do anything for my daughter, Lea Anderson. I would destroy the world and watch it turn to ash if it meant protecting her.” Her cool determination returned, and she straightened her shoulders. “So, take a moment and make your decision. Because if you try to keep me from my child, I will kill you.”

  Her threat should have forced me to action, yet I hesitated. My thirst for revenge quieted in light of her story, and my will cracked. She had something worth fighting for, but what did I have? Grant? Killing her wouldn’t bring him back. He was lost to me forever, either way. And my family, though I loved and missed them, would grieve but then find a way to move on. And I… I would figure out my own journey.

  Did I want to live, knowing it was my finger on the trigger that condemned not one life, but two to destruction? How could I live with myself? The ghosts of Natalia and the daughter I would never know would haunt me for eternity.

  Maybe Death had more in store for me. If nothing else, perhaps my death could make a difference. Not for me. But for Natalia and her daughter.

  “You didn’t compromise. I admired that…” Grant’s words filtered through my mind, and I swallowed the lump of sand in my throat. I couldn’t do this. Lea, the Lea I was before all this, would never condemn an innocent girl to a terrible fate.

  Natalia could be lying, playing on my emotions, but I had to act on the chance she wasn’t. Because the alternative was unthinkable. But could I really sacrifice what was needed?

  With an unsteady hand, I released my gun, and it clattered to cobblesto
ne. “Make it quick. I-I don’t want it to hurt.”

  I didn’t want to be a coward, not in this moment, but I trembled as Natalia’s eyes widened before dropping to the gun in her hand. No one was ever ready to die, but I wanted to be courageous, for once in my life.

  “It’s okay, Lea.” Natalia reached for my arm and squeezed it, gentler than I expected. “There’s honor in sacrifice. It will be over quickly.”

  Everything would be okay. Maybe, if I was lucky, I’d see Grant again. Maybe we’d have one more day to watch the sunset, one more day to waste away under cotton sheets. I would give anything for one more day.

  “Do it. Just do it fast.”

  Tears fell against my will, and my body quivered. I wanted to be strong, strong like Grant. But I was scared. I didn’t want to die again, but maybe Natalia was right. Perhaps there was honor in this. I’d done nothing worthy of respect during my life, but my death could mean something. This could be my redemption.

  Natalia raised her gun, the barrel cold against my forehead, and I whimpered. “What’s her name? Your daughter?”

  The slightest smile graced her lips. “Eva.”

  “Eva.” The gun cocked. “That’s a beautiful name.”

  I closed my eyes, envisioning the warmth of Grant’s naked body beside mine as he smiled down at me, twirling one of my curls around his index finger. He smiled, the action transforming his features into a boyish softness. He was so beautiful.

  What I wouldn’t give for one more—

  She pulled the trigger.

  Chapter 18

  Maybe Death Isn’t So Bad After All

  Death was not what I expected. Or, I supposed, dying again wasn’t.

  Blinking multiple times to dispel the dryness of my eyes, I sat from my crumpled position on the stony ground. My body ached, stiff and bruised, but I was dead. I knew it as surely as I knew Bill was the feline Antichrist incarnate.

  It didn’t take me long to remember where I was, but it confused me why I was still in the maze. The golden finish line glowed in the distance, but leafy vines had grown over the arches to construct a barrier of ivy. I couldn’t cross, but that was okay. Something told me I didn’t want to, anyway. Following the strangest urge in my gut, I returned to the courtyard.