Page 6 of Fake Game

“Hands behind your back.”

“Hands behind your back, now.”

I scramble to do as they say.

My throat becomes clogged.

It’s getting harder to breathe, and my eyes begin to prick.

Someone grabs my wrist tightly and cold metal encloses it, but it doesn’t stop my entire body from shaking.

Oh my Gods.

Oh my fucking Gods.

This can’t be happening.

TWO

DEER

Not safe.

I’m not safe.

I hug myself tighter, digging my nails into my shoulders so hard that I’m shocked my pointy acrylics aren’t breaking skin. My wrist aches from where the officer twisted, and it just serves as a brutal reminder.

Every single little noise has my head twitching and eyes darting around. I’m worried about inhaling too deep because it feels like something is going to pop out of the shadows any minute.

I haven’t moved since the police left.

I don’t even know how long ago that was.

All I know is that I was swatted.

I was actually fucking swatted.

My stomach churns like someone dropped a gallon of sour slushie in it. I’m in danger of throwing up again even though there’s nothing left in my stomach. I feel like such an idiot. Here I was, acting like Deer Hunter was just some nobody spewing idle threats.

I should’ve known to report it to the police. I should’ve alerted them that I was someone who was at risk of being swatted—that’s what a smart streamer would’ve done. But no, I’d refused to believe this was an actual issue.

So damn naïve.

I’d been dead wrong, and I’d paid the price.

I bury my face in my knees, curling myself further into a little ball under my duvet.

THUMP.

THUMP.

THUMP.

My entire body jerks at the noise and my heart stops. I hold my breath, waiting for a group of men to come barging in again.

“Deer, are you in there?” Lee’s voice filters through the cracks.

Crap.

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