Page 37 of Bleeding Hearts (Pine Valley College #3)
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
W e knew it was coming, but I think we were both hoping we would have more time before the next game. Alice needs to rest, but honestly, this game means so much more now since I made my decision and got the ball rolling.
It’s more dangerous than ever, and I suppose I wanted to live in our little bubble of happiness for a bit longer, but one flash of our phones and I know we can’t.
I eye the address before tossing my phone down and reclining back on my bed, my eyes on the ceiling.
“We don’t have to go,” she says nervously.
“Yes, we do. At least I do.” Leaning up, I eye her. “Stay here?—”
“Not a chance. Where you go, I go,” she snaps.
“Alice, you almost died,” I protest. I’ve practiced this argument in my head a thousand times since I made my decision, but I should have known better.
“And I survived. I’m not leaving you. If you go, I go,” she states.
“Don’t do this,” I beg. “Don’t put this on me.”
“I’m not.” She cups my face. “I’m just telling you how it is. We’ll do this together and watch each other’s back.” Alice kisses me softly, and I lose my train of thought. “We better get ready.”
She slips from my embrace, and I know I’m doing the right thing. I have to end this.
The address tonight is surprising. It’s not a rooftop or in the middle of nowhere.
It’s a mansion on the side of the river.
The rest of the street appears to be empty.
I don’t even see any cars or signs of life, but the house at the very end shines like a beacon, letting us know that’s exactly where we need to be.
I already knew whoever is behind this has power, connections, and money. It’s the only way they could get away with what they have so far, but this just reaffirms it. They are loaded and powerful. It makes me second-guess my plan. I’m nobody, a nothing. Who am I to go against them?
I know I have to though—not just for us, but for every person who has died so far in this stupid fucking game.
Maybe it’s my guilt for doing nothing before, but I’m more determined than ever to stop this. Quitting wouldn’t have stopped anyone or prevented their deaths, but it doesn’t ease that horrible feeling inside me when I think back.
“I have a bad feeling,” Alice murmurs as we wander down the silent road. Even the streetlights are off, the perfect manicured lawns barren until we step through the wrought-iron gates. Lights line the walkway, leading right up to open front doors.
My eyes catch on two figures huddled in the dark to the side. I think their names are Teresa and Poppy. I watch their stolen moment. Everyone always says they are best friends, but the look they are sharing says they are anything but.
“It isn’t too late to go back,” I say, pleading with Alice.
Ignoring me, she walks forward, and I sigh. My girl is stubborn, but I wish she would listen to me. I can’t stop her, I can’t take her choices from her, so I take her hand before we step into the lit foyer of the mansion together.
Paintings adorn the walls that are probably worth more than I could ever earn in five lifetimes. There’s a huge wooden staircase covered with a godawful red and gold carpet, and before that, standing on a marble floor, is a matching dark wood table with a card on it.
As I step closer, I see the Risk logo, and my gut clenches. In the middle is a drawing of a gun.
Turning to Alice, I grab her shoulders. “Get out of here now.”
“Lally—”
We both freeze as that mocking, distorted voice comes from somewhere deeper in the house.
“The last contestants have arrived. We will now prepare the game.” There’s a loud clunk, and we spin as metal shutters come down over the doorway, blocking our exit. My eyes widen in horror as I hurry to the room on the right in time to see the windows close too.
“There must be another way out for you,” I say, panicked.
“Lals.” She grabs my hand, her demeanor surprisingly calm. “It’s too late.”
“All players must proceed to the parlor. Failure to step into the game room will result in consequences,” the voice announces.
“We need to go,” she whispers. Despite her bravado, she looks scared, and I hate it. I hate every single fucking part of it.
I let her lead me down the lit corridor, following it to whatever awaits us.
Glancing down when Alice isn’t looking, I rearrange my shirt before focusing on my steps, and when we reach a huge room at the end, we freeze.
It’s more like a ballroom with multiple tables spread out.
Chairs are pushed out, as if waiting for their occupants, and others are against the paneled red walls.
Rain splashes against the huge windows as a storm rolls in.
I search for what we will face, but I find nothing, and Alice drags me farther inside the room. Everyone is quiet tonight, as if they are sensing it’s different, and that’s when I realize there is no audience.
All the other people who came to watch the other rounds aren’t here tonight. It’s just players, and everyone looks nervous about what that means.
Bars slam into place on the parlor door, locking us inside, and I swallow hard as I turn to see the whole room.
“Players, welcome to your next game,” the voice says as masked wranglers step through another door and line up at the front of the room. They each hold a box in their hands.
“Tonight, we have no audience. This game is just for us and you. Players, you will face the ultimate risk—death. Your bravery will be tested. Other games have been held in the dark, obscuring your actions and fears, but tonight, you will face them in bright light. Everything will be exposed. Please take a seat and await further instructions.”
I hesitate before leading Alice to a table near the door just in case. When she sits, I force myself into another seat. My back is to the door so I can see the entire room.
Teresa and Poppy sit with us, as well as four others.
Alice’s hand covers my thigh under the table, so I curl mine around it and offer her a strained smile, trying my best to calm her nerves, but it isn’t easy when my own are making my heart pound in my chest like a caged animal. My skin is hot, and I can barely sit still as I wait.
Once the last person takes a seat, several masked men break off and head to a table with the box, and then in unison, they slide their boxes across the tables to the middle and step back. There’s a click, and they pop open.
I already know what’s going to be inside ours, but when the lid falls back and reveals a silver and black revolver, I close my eyes for a moment. There are gasps around the room, and someone pushes to their feet, and we all turn to look at them.
“Fuck this!” he shouts. “I’m out.”
The wrangler at his table pushes him into his chair, and the voice comes again.
“Tonight will be different than other nights. By stepping into the parlor, you signed away your rights to quit. The only way out of this game is to win or lose. If you try to leave, you will be punished.”
The implication is there—they will kill you.
“Tonight’s game is commonly known as Russian roulette. The rules are simple. Just pull the trigger with the gun aimed at your head and then pass it on. There will be three rounds. Whoever is left at the end will be the winner and free to leave.”
My eyes go to Alice. She watches me with her own terrified gaze. We know we might not make it out of here alive. Everything we fought so hard for, everything we did to survive, it could end here in a stupid game, and it’s all my fault.
Leaning in, I press my forehead to hers, uncaring who is watching. “I’m scared,” she whispers.
“I know, baby, me too. Just focus on me, okay?” I murmur.
She nods, her eyes locked on mine as the wrangler steps up to her side. “You first,” he commands. “Pick up the gun and pull the trigger.”
Swallowing hard, Alice leans back and grabs the gun with a shaking hand. She never looks away from me as she lifts it and hesitates.
“Aim at your head,” the wrangler demands. “Five seconds.”
Her eyes close for a moment as she presses the cold barrel to her forehead. “I love you,” she tells me softly as her fingertip presses against the trigger.
My heart stops for a moment as the trigger clicks, but nothing happens, and she slumps, placing the gun back into the box with shaking hands as the wrangler steps up to my side. Alice straightens, fear in her gaze.
Smiling despite my terror, I reach for the weapon, not looking away from her as I press it against my temple. Fear makes my hand shake, and I worry this will be it—a bitter ending to my sad life—but if it is, then at least I got to have her, and that’s enough for me.
I pull the trigger.
It clicks, and I carefully replace the gun. The wrangler moves on, and Alice leans into my arms. Rubbing her back, I kiss her head as I watch the guy next to me pull the trigger. He’s sobbing, and when nothing happens, he presses his face to the table and cries harder.
My eyes sweep around the room, seeing everyone is either feeling shock, overconfidence, or just plain terror.
Teresa is next, and we all know there is a bullet in that chamber somewhere. She takes the gun and looks at Poppy. Both of them say everything with their eyes before she pulls the trigger. Nothing happens, and Poppy picks up the gun, terror etched on her features.
I know why. It has to be in that one, right? But when she pulls the trigger, she’s safe, and they collapse together just like Alice and I did. The guy after them looks at the gun and then us. “It’s me, right? Fuck this. Fuck this!” He slams his hands into the table, and Alice sobs into my side.
All of us know he has the bullet.
He wipes at his tears as he looks up at the ceiling.
“It might not be,” Poppy whispers. “It might all be a trick to make sure we’re willing to do it.”
He looks at her and purses his lips, and for a moment, I think he’s going to run, but then he grabs the gun and presses it against his head. “Fuck this game, and fuck all of you.”