Page 153 of Fake Game

Nothing seems real. Jackson’s touch on my skin feels like a ghost, and whatever words he is speaking sound like they are spoken through cotton balls in my ears. Denial slots itself like a sheet over my brain so I don’t process what just happened.

We start moving again, and I risk opening one eye to see the boys’ familiar apartment. People rush around me, but Jackson doesn’t stop until he gets to his room and lays me on his bed.

He reaches down and moves my hair out of my face, running his thumb down my temple. His inky stare holds me true, and I use what little strength I have to hold onto his forearm in a silent plea.

He crawls onto the mattress next to me, giving me a life raft in the middle of the churning sea. I grip onto that safety for dear life, begging it not to leave me.

Jackson lets me curl against him. My hands grasp the front of his sweater as my head rests against his pec. I seek out his heartbeat, that steady thumping a thread of sanity in the madness pouring through my mind.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, lips on the crown of my head. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

Except, I’m not.

My physical being may be safe right now, back in the confines of the high-tech apartment building. But my mind? My mind is not safe. It is seconds away from a gust of wind coming in to knock that sheet of denial away and reveal all my weaknesses. My mental barriers that I’ve spent so long trying to build up to keep me protected just keep getting beaten over and over, and the boards I’ve put up to stop the cracks are coming loose.

It's everything attacking me simultaneously.

It’s the Deer Hunters tormenting me.

It’s the nightmares that won’t let me sleep.

It’s the SWAT team invading my apartment.

It’s the sports drink that left me roofied.

It’s the messages I pretend I don’t see telling me I shouldn’t exist.

It’s the DMs I try to ignore with gross, sexual fantasies.

It’s the world outside that doesn’t feel safe.

Everything, everywhere, all at once.

I’m not sure how much more I can take before I’m split wide open.

My head begins to pound, like someone has placed a nail on the back of my skull and is trying to hammer it in. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly and dig my forehead into Jackson’s chest, trying to get the pain to go away.

But it won’t.

The pain, the terror, the dread just burrow deeper until they take root, like a poisonous plant latching on and becoming part of me, and I worry it’s too late for me to survive as it begins to feed off the light inside me, dimming my sparkle with each passing second like a vampire draining a human of blood until I’m nothing but a lifeless husk.

FORTY-TWO

JACKSON

Aknock at the door has Deer shooting upright and out of my arms, her head narrowly missing my chin.

Dammit, right when she’d finally drifted to sleep after tossing for the last few hours.

Her sharp nails dig into me as she stares owl-eyed at the door, her breathing coming in shallow pants. She looks absolutely terrified, and my heart cracks, leaking in agony.

“Hey, it’s me,” Aleks calls out. “If you’re awake, come on out—the sisters are here.”

“Yeah, one second.” I shift, placing my hand on Deer’s as I speak to her in a hushed tone. “Hey, it’s okay.” Her fingers only seem to tighten. “It’s okay,” I repeat, giving her hand a squeeze.

She finally looks down at me, her consciousness returning bit by bit. Slowly, her grasp loosens enough that I’m able to peel her fingers free and sit up.

“Do you want to join or…” I trail off, leaving it up to her.

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