Page 185 of Deviant

Funny how I never thought about my own survival until today. My blinding need for revenge had been so strong that all I wanted was to kill the girl who took my sister from me. And now that that same girl holds my heart in her hands, the probability of us both leaving this house alive feels like a pipe dream.

One of us will die… if not both.

I haven’t gathered up the courage to gauge if death by my hand is still what Rowen most desires. It’s a question that has been plaguing me for longer than it should. But tonight isn’t the night we should have that discussion either. Not when her mind is trapped reliving all the horrors her mother went through.

I’m not sure why Sarah felt the need to volunteer for the games, but I know the reason why she never came home. She could have never faced her daughter after everything she had experienced and done. Too much bloodshed had been spilled by her hand. Too much depravity and trauma had been experienced by her body, mind, and soul.

That’s what this game does to you…

It takes good honest people and turns them into deviants.

“What’s wrong with you two? You’ve been acting all sorts of weird tonight,” Harper asks opposite us as she sits on Andy’s lap on the sofa.

“Is it about tomorrow’s games?” Andy asks, thankfully giving us a way out.

One thing that both Rowen and I agreed on before we came upstairs was not to share our findings with anyone.

‘If we take away their hope, we take away their reason to live and fight.’

Those were the last words she said before we met everyone in the dining hall.

That was two hours ago.

“So, is it?” Andy repeats, reminding me he’s waiting for a reply.

“Sure.” I nod, still staring at the girl who’s turned my life upside down.

“Figured,” Andy retorts, “I hate to say it, but I’m a little on edge myself.”

“Oh, babe,” Harper coos, peppering his face with kisses. “Don’t be worried. It will all be okay.”

I don’t chime in to tell her that nothing about this situation is okay. That though it may appear that we are safe and snug in this den, death looms over us all. We just don’t know when it will strike. It could be tomorrow, or during the next game in three days. Or maybe we’ll get taken out during a group game—who the hell knows? All I do know is that none of this is fucking okay

“I once read in a magazine,” Harper whispers softly to Andy, “that when a person’s body dies, we have roughly about seven to ten minutes of brain activity left. The article said that during that small window of time, there’s a belief that all our memories come back to us as if we’re watching our life play out on a movie screen. I found the article oddly comforting, because that meansI get to see everyone I ever loved one more time. And when my time comes, I hope the last face I get to see is yours.”

“I fucking love you, Harper. So much,” Andy says emotionally, grabbing his girlfriend by the nape and kissing her like his very life depends on it.

I lower my gaze from them and glance over at my doe-eyed girl who is currently staring at her friends with tears in her eyes.

“Hey, come here,” I say, gently lifting her head from my lap and guiding her to sit on it instead. I wipe the tears from her eyes and pull her close, whispering in her ear, “The only certainty we have is today. We’re alive right now. Save your tears, Roe. Save them for later. Just enjoy the little time we have together.”

She pulls away from my embrace, staring at me with such intense emotion in her eyes that I almost mistake it for love.

But that can’t be right.

If she loved me, she wouldn’t demand that I kill her.

She wouldn’t dare ask me to do such a thing.

Not when my heart fucking bleeds for her.

Fuck.

How the fuck did we get here?

How did it get this fucked up?

And how the fuck can we get ourselves out of such a tangled mess?

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