Page 66 of Deceptive Games

I scrambled back when he removed the safety, panic filling me.

What the fuck was he doing?

He shoved the door shut and locked it before Rory could stop him, advancing on me as I cowered like a fucking idiot on the floor as Rory pounded on the door.

“Well? I’ll make it quicker than slitting your fucking wrists,” he said flatly, squatting in front of me and pressing the barrel to my forehead.

“Don’t,” I choked out, making him tilt his head slightly.

“Don’t what? Kill you? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Please, Skeet. Don’t,” I repeated, relief filling me when he pulled the gun away and placed his arms on his knees.

“There’s the fucking answer to whatever you were chasing. You don’t want to die. Can’t change your mind when you slit a vein or hang yourself, remember that.” He stood, taking my bloodied hand and hauling me to my feet. “That girl out there loves you for some stupid reason. If you’re tired of fighting for yourself, tell her and she’ll fight for you.”

“I’m weak. She deserves better,” I forced out, wincing as he grabbed my throat and leaned down to speak quietly.

“You’re not weak, you just had a weak moment. I don’t care how, just get some help. And move out of this fucking house before I have to burn it down to get you out. I don’t want Rory lying awake at night wondering if you’re still breathing,” he warned, waiting for me to nod before he turned to the door that was still rattling from Rory trying to get in, and she almost fell in when he unlocked it and yanked it open.

Her fist met his cheek on her way towards me, and I sank into her hold as she glared back at him.

“I asked you to come here for help, not to finish him off.”

“I did fucking help. He’s cured and wants to live. You’re welcome,” he grunted, grabbing the medical kit in one hand and fisting her hair in his other, tugging her back from me. “Hit me again, I dare you.”

Defiance shone in her eyes, and I would’ve bet money on her taking him up on it if I didn’t interrupt.

“Can you two not fight?” I demanded, reaching for the medical bag, but Skeeter swatted my hand away.

“Don’t tell me what to do, you little shit. Sit on the counter.”

I sighed and lifted myself onto the edge, holding my arm out for him to clean properly, and thankfully, most only needed bandaging.

One definitely needed a few stitches though, and my eyes widened when Skeeter grabbed the needle and thread.

“Uh, what about pain relief?”

“Feel free to curse at me or something if it helps. I’ll allow it,” he deadpanned, but Rory moved to stand beside me and took my hand.

“If you want anesthetic, you need the hospital,” she said with a cringe.

“I can’t. Mom?—”

“Fuck your mother. If you need a hospital, you go to one. I can fix it, but it won’t be perfect, and it’s going to fucking hurt,” Skeeter scowled, holding up the needle. “I’ll be fast and you don’t need many, but you need to stay still. Can you man up and deal with it or am I wasting my time?”

He was giving me an out but I couldn’t take it. I had to deal with it, or I’d have to deal with much worse when the hospital called Mom.

“I can handle it,” I answered, a weird sense of respect flashing in his eyes as he nodded.

“Alright. Stay still.”

Nothing prepared me for that fucking needle piercing my skin.

I gritted my teeth, a pained grunt leaving me as I fought the urge to pull away. It was only a few stitches, but it felt like a million by the time he was done. Sweat coated my skin, my jaw hurting from how tightly I’d been clenching it, and I felt like I needed to throw up.

Rory wandered off to find me some pain meds from Mom’s bathroom, and Skeeter startled me as he smacked my cheek before gripping my chin to force me to hold his gaze.

“I fucking mean it, Lukas. Don’t do this shit again. Get drunk and fuck your girl to deal with your problems like the rest of us. Or Jensen, I really don’t give a fuck.”