Page 100 of Wicked Games

I fixed her with a stony stare, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in the side of my head. “How am I supposed to eat?” I asked. “I’m tied to a fucking chair.”

Her eyes skated over the bindings around my legs and arms. “I’ll have to feed you. But that’s okay,” she said breezily. “I made this stew, by the way. Took a French cooking class last summer break.”

“So you’ve been the one catering for us all along?” I said, skeptically eyeing the steaming bowl.

“No, we all took turns preparing the meals,” she said, gesturing toward her mother and father. They were sitting by the computer on the other side of the control room, deep in conversation. “It was really rough sometimes, you know. I had to wake up at four A.M. most days to help get breakfast ready.”

“Wow, yeah, that sounds really rough,” I said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Too bad I can’t relate. Things have been a total cakewalk for me in this place.”

April sniffed. “I know you’re being sarcastic, but things reallyhavebeen easier for you here. Like I said earlier, you were never in any real danger.”

“But I didn’t know that when I was going through it, did I?” I said, still glowering at her. “And what about the others? They’ve always been in danger. You’re planning to kill all of them!”

“They deserve it,” she said, voice silky-smooth. “You know that.”

I sighed and lowered my eyes to my lap. In the several hours since I woke up tied to this chair, I’d tried to reason with April and her parents multiple times, but there was really no point. They were all obsessed with the idea that Abby’s death wasn’t truly accidental, but a form of murder instead. They genuinely believed that anyone who had ever negatively impacted her life had helped to kill her and thus deserved a death sentence in return.

“Chin up and open wide.” April held out a spoon in front of me, filled with deliciously scented chicken stew. “Let me know how it tastes.”

I accepted the spoonful and chewed slowly. “It’s good,” I muttered after swallowing.

“Awesome,” she said, beaming. “I’ve been experimenting with the herbs a lot, and I think I finally got the right ratio of thyme to rosemary.”

I frowned as something occurred to me. “How did you get all the meals into the drawing room without any of us seeing?” I asked. “We thought there was a secret door in there somewhere, like the one I found in your room, but there was nothing.”

“Are you sure about that?” April asked, lifting a brow. “I watched you through the cameras, and I saw you guys checking everywhere on the walls and floor. But you forgot one angle.”

She jabbed a finger upward, and understanding finally dawned on me. “The entryway was in the ceiling?”

“Yup. This control room isn’t the only space we have on the third level,” she said. “We installed a kitchen in the room next door, and we put a trapdoor in the floor that looks exactly like one of the big wooden ceiling panels in the drawing room below. So we’d send one person down with a rope ladder, and then we’d slowly lower the food down to them on trays to set out on the table. Easy.”

It didn’t sound particularly easy at all, but I wasn’t about to start an argument with her over such an inane subject.

“So what’s happening with the plan to set me up as the fall girl?” I asked, glancing over at her parents again. “Are the three of you finally starting to realize it won’t work?”

“It will. You keep forgetting about all the connections we have. We’ve already started with the paper trail to make it seem like Maverick was funding you.” April lifted the spoon again. “Open up.”

I chewed fast and swallowed. “Tell me one more thing. Was I right about the games being rigged?”

“Sort of. Some of them weren’t, but others were. Like the one that got Courteney, for example. She didn’t push that button on her collar. We triggered it remotely.”

I frowned. “Why would you set things up that way?” I asked. “Why not make all the games real?”

“Because we didn’t have endless game ideas,” she replied, dipping the spoon back in the bowl. “And we needed to make sure that everyone was dead by the end of the twelfth game. Everyone except you, that is.”

“So the next few games will all be rigged, then?” I asked, stomach churning at the thought of anything happening to Maverick and the others. “Seeing as there’s still so many people left.”

“Yes. By the way, tomorrow’s game is going to besofun.” April slid another spoonful of stew into my mouth. “Remember the snake pit from the Seven Minutes in Hell game?”

“Mm-hm,” I mumbled through the mouthful.

“We’ve repurposed the snakes for our own version of Snakes and Ladders. It’s going to be so fun to watch.” She cocked her head. “It’s Zach’s turn to die tomorrow. We figured we’ve made him suffer enough by making him watch his little girlfriend die right in front of him, so it’s his time to go.”

“What about Maverick?” I asked in a hollow voice. “When is it his turn to die?”

She sighed. “Well, we actually hoped it would happen earlier today. We had a game of Spin the Bottle crossed with Russian roulette, and we assumed everyone would turn on Mav after some secret prompting we gave to Hudson. But they ended up turning on Hudson instead. In hindsight, that’s not too surprising, because Hudson was a colossal piece of shit, but itisannoying. It was a quick and easy death, and we had something really terrible planned for him in the twelfth game. Now it’ll have to happen to Maverick instead.”

“Please don’t do it,” I said, tears springing to my eyes. I knew there was no point begging, but I had to do it anyway. I couldn’t just stay silent while they plotted to murder my boyfriend. “Please.It’s not too late to change the plan. You can let us all go free, and in return, I promise I’ll never say a single word to the cops. I swear, April. I won’t.”

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