Page 36 of These Vicious Games

“I’m starting to remember certain things, but not fully. I was hoping you could help me?”

Aunt Martha sighs, “We only know as much as you know. They found you wandering the streets of Seattle confused. You didn't even know who you were. Only after a couple of days did they finally get your name out of you. They went to your house, but it was abandoned, and it looked like it had been left in a hurry. No signs of your mom or younger brother. It’s as if they never existed. For some reason, I was your mother’s emergency contact even though I haven't talked to her in over a decade. The police contacted us, and we decided to adopt you.”

She sighs, “We sent you to therapy, but we never could figure out what happened…. The only one who knows is your mom.”

Wait.

“My mom is alive?”

“Yes, she’s doing time in prison.”

Oh. Why did I think she was dead?

“Here,” Aunt Martha slides a paper over with an address. “You can visit her there and ask her yourself. I never could get anything out of her,” she shrugs.

I tuck the paper in my hand, wanting to crush it beneath my palm. “Is it okay if I stay the night tonight? I promise I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow.”

“Constance, darling. You can stay as long as you need.”

Chapter 25

It didn’t takeme long to sober up after she escaped my grasp. A few minutes on the ground and I had my hand to my ear, telling my driver to take her wherever she wanted.

As long as he got the address of course.

I was in no position to chase her. I tried and broke my coffee table in the process. With a tiny nap and sleep, I was able to reexamine the look on her face. The cold fear that made her grayeyes dull like concrete. I’d seen those eyes once before, and I never wanted to be in the position to see them again.

This entire time, no matter what I’ve thrown at her, she hasn’t looked at me like I’m… a monster.

So this morning, I wait. Wait for her to come out of the small home she lived in years ago. For her eyes to narrow at my town car before she turns away and begins walking the other direction. She doesn’t even have a fucking jacket on. It’s cold as fuck outside. Grumbling, I climb out of the car and walk after her.

“Little Bird.”

“Go away, Atticus.” She snaps with anger and a hint of fear.

I don’t know why that wounds me. I’ve wanted her to fear me this entire time and now that she does… fuck that shit.

“You know that doesn’t work. Now stop, talk to me.” I grasp her elbow and she jerks from me. “Listen here, baby.” Her breath hitches. “I could easily drag your small body down this sidewalk and toss you in my car. But I’m not. Don’t push me.”

She stops, turning so fast I almost collide into her but I grab her instead, bringing her close.

“Please, do not touch me.”

“What’s the difference today? Not that long ago I had my tongue in every one of your little holes.” I love the way she blushes. Cheeks staining red, but her eyes have not softened one bit.

“How could you?” She sneers.

“If you want me to demonstrate…” she smacks my chest. “Baby, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“You… I remember.”

“Yeah? What is it you think you remember. And be real fucking careful with what comes out of your pouty little mouth next.”

“You raped me.”

The words are like a slap. Stinging every inch of my body, physically and mentally. “What the fuck did you say?”

She trembles in my arms, trying to push me away. “I…” she begins replaying the memory.

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