Page 80 of War Games

He doesn’t finish his sentence, but I nod, knowing exactly what he’s trying to say as I feel it just as strongly within my own heart. “I’d sooner give up my own life than ever have to face one without you,” I tell him. “You, me, and Shadow.”

“Family,” he says.

I nod, and we stay just like that until the water begins to run cold, and we’re forced out of the shower. He wraps me in a towel before grabbing another for himself, and by the time we’re finally dressed and climbing into bed, a heaviness washes over me.

Reaper pulls me into his arms, his fingers dancing across my skin as I lay against his chest in one of his many black shirts. “Sleep, Kienna. You need to rest, then when we wake, we’ll figure out how the hell we’re supposed to pull this off in the next—” Reaper pauses, checking the time on his phone. “Forty-two hours.”

The idea of our time running out makes me feel sick, and all I can do is nod against his chest, but the exhaustion is creeping up on me fast, and I know just how right he is. We both have to sleep if we’re going to have any chance of coming up with a plan that could possibly get all three of us out of this godforsaken town alive.

“Forty-two hours,” I repeat, the heaviness clear in my tone.

“We’ll figure something out,” he promises. “We didn’t come this far just to lose it all at the finish line.”

Trusting him with my life, I nod, and just as I go to close my eyes, the door barges open, and in a flash, Shadow is standing at the foot of our bed, my gun resting so casually in her hand.

We both sit up, my eyes wide as I take her in. “I’m sorry,” she tells us, her eyes filled with a strange mix of fear and betrayal. Then, before I have a chance to even move, she pulls the trigger, sending a bullet straight through the center of Reaper’s chest.

I scream, my heart racing in fear as Reaper’s heavy body slams back down against the mattress, blood immediately pouring from the wound in his chest. “NO,” I scream, slamming my hands against his chest before looking back at Shadow in horror, unable to recognize the girl looking back at me.

“It’s the only way,” she says as his blood pours over my fingers.

I shake my head, fear pounding through my chest as I do everything to save Reaper, only I see the intention in her eyes and I know I’m next. “No, Shadow,” I panic, knowing if I go down, there’s nobody left to save Reaper. “Don’t do this. Don’t—”

BANG!

30

MILA

ONE MONTH LATER

Tears stream down my cheeks as I drop down on the bench that overlooks the whole of the Seattle cityscape. It’s beautiful during the day, but at night, it always took Siren’s breath away. I’ve always been a landscape girl. Give me a beach or a mountainside any day, but Siren always had a thing for the big city.

She used to drag me up here nearly every weekend, spouting bullshit about how the walk was good for us, but no matter how allergic I was to exercise, she always managed to get me up here. Truth be told, I actually enjoyed the walk. I just enjoyed giving her a hard time more.

She was my best friend, and any time I spent with her was my favorite part of the day. And now as I stare at the little plaque that overlooks Seattle, I can’t help but feel broken. It’s been almost a month since the end of War Games, and the moment Isaw the death toll with both Siren’s and Reaper’s names on it, I couldn’t believe my eyes.

My heart shattered into a million pieces, and I haven’t been able to put it back together. She was my only family, my only friend, and while I knew this was a very real possibility, I always saw her as greater than life. She never messed up, never faltered, and despite knowing the chances of her coming home after the games, I believed with every fiber of my soul that she would beat the odds and stride back through my door.

I reviewed the surveillance footage from that house a million times over, watching as Reaper and Siren laid down to go to bed, watching as she fell even more in love with him before Shadow came in and brutally betrayed them.

They wanted to love her as their own, wanted to give her the kind of life that was stolen from her the moment she was born, but her instincts took over. I’ve been so angry, and honestly, I don’t know if I can even blame her. She was raised in a damn training camp. There’s no telling what kind of values they drum into those children, but I think it’s safe to assume it’s nothing good.

She was sent to War Games with one motive: to win. And that’s exactly what she did. I suppose I should give her a round of applause. She won. She outsmarted them all.

Shadow aligned herself with the strongest players in the game, and just when she had gained their trust and manipulated them into loving her, she betrayed them in the worst way.

None of us saw it coming, and that much is clear by the image of Siren’s face when Shadow pulled the trigger. Her expression will be burned into my mind for the rest of my life.

I watched that footage so many times that I could replay the whole thing on a loop inside my head, watching over and over again as my best friend screamed for the man she loved, desperately trying to save him before being shot herself. I canclearly picture the way her body rebounded off the mattress as she fell, the way Shadow dropped to her knees and cried afterward, and the way Reaper bled out onto the white duvet.

It’s not fair. It shouldn’t have ended like that.

I sit and stare out at the cityscape until the night air begins to chill, then just as I go to get up, somebody sits down beside me, a tissue in their outstretched hand.

I suck in a breath, my gaze lifting from the manicured hand to the familiar face staring back at me.

“What?” I breathe, staring at the face I never thought I’d see again, certain I’m seeing a ghost.

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