Page 33 of Game of Hell
“You have. I’ve taken it away. Your control is mine now.”
“You say that like it’s a game of control.”
“Maybe it is. Everything is about leverage so why not?” He shrugs.
“Does that make me a monster? To give in to these dark thoughts, to let you win?” A low laugh leaves his lips and he leans closer to my face, his breath misting across my cheeks.
“You’re no monster, baby. Monsters eat girls like you alive, they know themselves better than saints. I’m the monster in your story, but I promise the only thing I’ll be eating is your pretty little cunt.” A chill runs down my spine and I melt into his touch, losing myself to him again.
“Stop playing, I'm being serious.” Even though a smile breaks across my lips, I roll my eyes.
“We’ve both been hurt and used by people we thought we could trust, that's ok. It brought us together, didn’t it?” He lets my jaw go and places a gentle kiss on my lips.
“Yeah.” I mumble absentmindedly.
“Now, that's enough of that sob story. Down to 24 hours, Little Devil.”
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DAY THREE
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Ronan
“Obsession in a man creates destruction.”
I give her that moment. I’m real with her, sentimental if she needs me to be because I know how it feels to have lost yourself. To fall into a dark abyss and stare at your own reflection until all you see is your flaws.
24 hours left and I feel I’ve discovered her entirely. She gave herself to me from the beginning—she trusted me enough to have her body and now her mind. Her name pulses through my veins like the blood my body needs. She’s become my Little Devil and it’s time she found our last clue. No matter how badly it scares me and I’ve never been scared in my life. Fear isn’t something I dwell upon—it leaves weak spots open for people to use but right now I know what’s on that last paper will scare her. She might not want to see me again. She might run from me, but I’ll be one step behind her. I always get what I want. I always know what I want. No matter how far she goes, no matter how long the wait.
I’ll always wait.
“I think it’s best if we take showers and eat well before the last few hours. No telling what they’ll have us do after leaving this room.” I nod and let her go first.
These days have felt like a cycle, showering, fucking, riddle, eating, sleeping, and did I say fucking? I grab a sandwich and water, consuming both in a few minutes. My stomach is stillgrowling because my last sandwich went to waste because of her. Her and that damn mouth of hers. I know I’ll never rid her of it and truly I don't care nor do I want to. It’s funny to pick on her, make her squirm from a few words. That pussy trembling underneath my shirt.
She steps out of the bathroom—grabs the sandwich and water I left on the bed. Her eyes fall on me before darting back to the floor but I ignore it. Knowing her, she has a million fucking questions I don’t want to answer right now.
I shower just as fast, letting the tepid water fall over my skin and not letting my mind drift to the last riddle.
When I’m done, she’s laid on the bed, her sandwich half eaten and on the floor. She must’ve been tired, exhausted considering she stayed awake to make sure I woke up.
Most people in a situation like this would’ve lost their minds already. These rooms aren’t just about secrets being revealed. It's to test your mental state and how long it takes before you crack. How much pressure you can be put under before you snap. But not her. She’s too damn stubborn and resilient to let any of this win.
I pick up her sandwich and throw it away. I situate the silk blanket over her and let her be while I find the last damn clue. The neon clock above ticks loudly, mercilessly leaving no room to think. Luckily I’m in no rush. Control is patience and I’m blessed with both.
I crouch closer to the floor, the slight shift of the wood catching my attention.
I place a hand on it and it moves again. I dig my fingers underneath the wood's edges and it groans as it leaves the hinges. The wood is much softer than the rest of the floor, but possibly because it’s damp from the mini fridges leak. I place the plank beside me and an old brown box sits in the small space. As always the last clue is near the door you come in from—the beginning is always the end.
My lips curve into something that’s not quite a smile, but darker. What's inside of here isn’t really the problem, it's what's written on it. It could be the end of Ember or it could be the beginning of something more dangerous between us.
I pull the box from the spot and push the wood back in place. I glance over at her sleeping form. She’s still ignorant to the world. She’s been playing my game well and now lets see if she can live it too.
I turn the box in my hand, slowly as if I do it too fast the contents may shatter. I lift the lid and a black paper is neatly folded inside. I pull it out and place it in my palm. As I read it over, I realize they got each statement right. Each one coursing into a much darker realization of what I had done.
I turn to her, she’s been asleep for five hours as I kept myself busy eating, watching her and looking for this clue. I wanted her to rest for what's to come so that she can think rationally.
