Page 89 of Wicked Games

All this time, I’d wanted so badly to believe that someone like Hudson, Rhys, Kiara, or Jasmine was the one behind these games. Or even a total outsider. Never, ever my good friend. But now my gut was telling me there was something to this theory, even though I had no clue about possible motives.

I glanced at the time on my phone. 9:51. Still nine minutes until the curfew. If April’s room was unlocked, I could quickly check in there for any clues she might’ve inadvertently left behind. If I didn’t find anything, I could return first thing in the morning with Maverick and carry out a longer search.

I quietly left my room, tiptoed down to the end of the hall, and tried April’s door handle. It was unlocked, as it should be, given that she supposedly never returned after the Chess Club game. Guilt instantly flooded back in, and I took a deep breath and stepped inside, wondering if I was a total monster for doing this.

The room was laid out similarly to my own—stacked bookshelf and desk on one side, closet, oil paintings on the wall, and a queen-sized bed. I hastily went through the books on the shelf before attempting to pull on the shelf itself, in case the furniture was concealing a secret doorway. No dice. After that, I checked under the bed for any hidden trapdoors. I even checked the bathroom.

Again, there was nothing.

With a sigh, I slumped on the end of April’s bed, face flushing hot with shame. I was either a total bitch for suspecting an innocent person—my closest friend, no less—or I was right but still a total idiot for thinking April would leave any obvious clues lying around her room. What did I expect her to do if she was truly the Game Master? Leave a book on the shelf titled ‘Killing Your Friends 101’? Or a journal on the desk with daily entries detailing her joy at how things were progressing in the games?

My eyes fell on the oil painting on the opposite wall. I stared at it for a full thirty seconds, wondering why my senses were suddenly tingling. Then it hit me. The painting on the corresponding wall in my bedroom was less than half the size of this one. The painting in Maverick’s room was the exact same as mine, and from what I recalled of Brooke and Zach’s rooms, their paintings were also quite small. So why was April’s so massive? Was it just a coincidence, or could there be something behind it?

I leapt up and grabbed the gilt edge of the frame from the left side. It didn’t budge. I tried the right side, and it creaked open to reveal a large hole in the wall.

“Holy shit,” I said breathlessly. I was right. April had been hiding something after all.

The hole was too dark to get a proper look inside it, so I used the light from my phone to illuminate it. I expected to see a stash of food or tech gear, but instead, I saw a tight space with a wooden ladder heading upward.

Curiosity overwhelmed me, outweighing my fear. I took a deep breath and slowly began to ascend, being careful not to make a sound. When I reached the open hole at the top of the ladder, I poked my head out just an inch or two to see what lay on the new level. It was a large room with three single beds, a couch, several cluttered tables, and a large desk at the far end with a computer and multiple screens.

The lamps and overhead lights in the room were off, but the faint, blue-tinged light from the computer screens illuminated the space enough for me to spot a familiar blonde head resting on a pillow on the closest bed.

April was alive.

Disbelief coursed through my veins like icy tendrils, momentarily freezing me in place. How the hell could she do this? How could she be capable of such unspeakable horrors? Itdidn’t make any sense. She was the last person I ever would’ve suspected of being the Game Master.

I had to believe it, though. The truth was literally laid out right in front of me.

I drew in a shaky breath and started descending as quietly as possible. There was no way I could confront April alone. That was far too dangerous. I had to wake up Maverick and the others so we could figure out our next move together.

When I was halfway down the ladder, a click sounded above me, and my eyes shot up to meet April’s cold gaze. She was crouching over the hole in the floor with a pistol pointed right at my face.

“God, Carey,” she said, slowly shaking her head. “I really wish you hadn’t come here.”

Carey

“I wasn’t actually asleep,” April went on, waving the pistol at me. I flinched, and she went on. “I was watching you go through my room on the monitor, and I was hoping you wouldn’t find anything. But… you did. So now you’re going to have to come back up here. Okay?”

I swallowed hard and nodded, eyes fixed on the gun barrel. “Okay,” I whispered.

I slowly climbed back up, heart pounding. When I reached the top, April grabbed me under my left arm with her free hand and hauled me out of the hole. “Take a seat,” she said, waving the pistol toward the couch.

“Okay,” I repeated, unsure of what else I could say without incurring her wrath. This wasn’t the April I knew and loved. The version I knew didn’t carry guns and point them in people’s faces. She was sweet, kind, and witty.

This version of her was a total wildcard.

“What gave me away?” she asked, staring down at me. There was such venom in her eyes that I was afraid she was going to reach into my chest and rip my heart out with her bare hands.

“The last game,” I said. “All the bodies were there except yours.”

“Dammit.” She let out a heavy sigh of frustration, as if she’d simply missed an important phone call instead of being caught out for a diabolical murder plan. “I told Mom and Dad that could be a problem, but they thought it would be fine.”

“So you’re here with your parents?”

“Yes, of course. Do you really think I could’ve pulled off this whole thing without any help?” she replied. “C’mon, Carey. Use your brain.”

“I just…” I faltered and started again. “I don’t get it. None of this makes any sense.”

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