Game Master
D H Sidebottom
Game Master
D H Sidebottom
Copyright © 2018 D H Sidebottom
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains
material protected under International and
Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any
unauthorised reprint or use of this material is
prohibited. No part of this book may be
reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any
means, electronic or mechanical, including
photocopying, recording, or by any information
and retrieval system without express written
permission from the Author/Publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places, and incidents either are the product of
the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously,
and any resemblance to actual persons, living or
dead, business establishments, events, or locales
is entirely coincidental.
It wasn’t fear or apprehension, nor weakness
and defeat that took me a step closer to the end
square.
But the strength and courage to bite down
hard and flip Satan the bird that determined I
would be the one to reach it first.
Day 1
08:33
Nessa
The lights in the ceiling flicked on without
warning. Instantaneously blinded by the
fluorescent white glow, I placed my forearm
over my eyes and groaned. Last night’s
celebrations had taken their toll on me. I was
thirty-one for Christ’s sake, my body couldn’t
handle the volume of alcohol it once could.
Nausea lay heavy in my stomach, and my
head throbbed. My mouth was so dry I had
difficulty peeling my tongue from the roof.
“Never again,” I groaned.
Squeezing my eyes closed to protect them
from more pain, I delicately sat up.
Something didn’t feel right. The mattress
beneath me was too hard, and my feet didn’t
touch the softness of carpet when I swung my
legs over the edge.
Bracing myself for the intrusion of light to my
retinas, I slowly opened my eyes.
Confusion made me draw a sharp breath as I
looked around the unfamiliar room. Various
hospital equipment, way past its use by date,
fitted out the dirty, dilapidated room. Decaying
white paint peeled away from the stonework as
though contamination seeped through the walls
and decimated it. The stench in the air made my
sinuses sting and my belly vault, and I pulled the
hem of my t-shirt over my mouth and nose.
My legs faltered when I slid off the bed, and I
grabbed onto the edge of the plastic mattress to
stop my body from dropping to a heap on the
floor.
“Hello?”
I wasn’t entirely sure if I was dreaming - or
having a nightmare for that matter. After all, the
measure of alcohol still clotting my bloodstream
could be affecting my sleeping visions.
“Hello?”
I wasn’t really expecting a reply, but a part of
me wanted to see if the sound of my own voice
would rouse me from sleep. It didn’t. The
nightmare continued, and it took a sinister turn
when I turned my head to look behind me.
“Jesus!”
A man was bound to a chair. His head was
down, his chin resting on his chest, but it was
clear from the blood that caked his clothes that
he was severely injured.
Rushing over, I knelt on the floor to help him.
Yet as I reached for him, my hands shook when I
spotted the device secured to his chest.
I couldn’t seem to breathe. My vision swam
when my heart rate peaked with the bolt of
adrenaline that rushed through me.
I intuitively knew that the small box strapped
to the man was a bomb. I’d never in my life seen
one, but it didn’t take an expert on explosives to
ascertain that it was most definitely a bomb.
“Hello, Nessa.”
It was then that I saw the electronic tablet sat
on the man’s lap.
And it was at that precise moment that I
realised this indeed was a nightmare, but not
one I had the luxury of sleeping through. This
one was a living, breathing hell that dragged me
kicking and screaming into its dark, dark depths.
Day 1
08:41
“No. No. No!”
My head shook as hard as my hands when I
picked up the tablet and stared at the blurry
image.
“NO!”
Undiluted fear took over every one of my
senses, and when tears rolled from my eyes, I
quickly brushed them away so that I didn’t lose
focus.
His voice came from the tiny speaker on the
iPad once again, the tinny quality making it
difficult to hear him. “Good morning, Dr
Griffiths.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I don’t expect you to.”
A teardrop that had landed on the screen
smeared my mother’s face, and I swiped at it
with the hem of my sleeve so I could see her
clearly. The sound of my sister’s weeping
crushed my heart, and I stroked my finger over
her image as she looked to my mother for help.
“It’s okay, Carolyn. Don’t cry, baby.”
“Shall we start?” he asked, the eerie calmness
in his voice sending my instincts into red alert.
“Start?”
I stared at the four members of my family
tied to chairs. I didn’t understand what was
happening. Not a mere few hours ago I had been
out celebrating my thirty-first birthday with
friends. How had I got from there to here? It
didn’t make any sense.
The gasp that left me sounded foreign to my
own ears when the device strapped to the man’s
chest lit up.
4:00
“You have four hours, Dr Griffiths. The first
game is somewhat special and worth double
points.”
Panic surged through me, immobilising me,
when above my brother’s head a timer lit up,
corresponding to the time on the bomb.
“What the…” I gasped when the image of Sam,
my little brother, disappeared and text scrolled
across the screen.
‘It’s day one, and our game will now
begin.
Tell me, Dr Griffiths, do you have what
it takes to win?
Be a surgeon and take the knife,
after all, you’re here to save a life.
Will you locate the patient in time,
and happen upon your second rhyme?’
“Save Mr Fen, and you save your brother,” he
said. “Now, if I were you, I’d hurry up.”
Shooting upright I span in a circle, surveying
the room for any sort of clue. Holding my hands
out, I screamed, “Help me!”
“The only person who can help you is sat in
that chair next to you. You will need him for
future games, Nessa. But as I consider myself a
gentleman, I’ll give you a clue.”
He was crazy. Totally and utterly certifiable.
“This is insane!”
“Are you a surgeon, or not? To save a life, you
must save a life.”
What the hell did that mean?
I looked at the man still unconscious in the
chair. Although he was brutally beaten, his
injuries didn’t appear life-threatening. Did he
expect me to perform surgery on the bomb?
When I pressed two fingers to the side of Mr
Fen’s neck, the voice through the iPad once
more directed me. “You’re helping the wrong
person, Dr Griffiths. I really thought you were
more intelligent than this.”
“Who are you?”
“I am the Game Master.”
3:51
Terror was clouding my judgement, and
taking a deep breath, I willed myself to calm
down. The rapid thud of my heart was making
me feel faint, and I needed to get myself under
control.
“I’ll be back as fast as I can,” I told Mr Fen,
even if he couldn’t hear me.
Snatching up the tablet, I took one last look at
the riddle and the timer displayed beneath the
text, opened the door, and stepped onto the
game board.
Day 1
08:56
The corridors were dimly lit as I ran through
the old abandoned hospital hunting for the
operating theatres. It was the only place I could
think of if he intended me to perform surgery on
someone. I was praying my intuition was
correct, and that I wasn’t wasting precious time
on a wild goose chase.
It was like a rabbit warren, the once-useful
signposts to direct visitors around the vast
building now faded with time and dirt, and many
times I found myself back at a place I’d already
been.
There had to be a generator powering the
electricity, and I was grateful for that.
Otherwise, it would be impossible to operate on
someone.
Glancing at the iPad, I checked the time.
3:37
Bursting through a set of doors at the end of
one of the corridors, I breathed a sigh of relief
when I arrived at a large lobby accommodating
the operating theatres.
The first two rooms I checked were empty
and I wondered if I’d got the riddle completely
wrong. However, when I stepped into the third
room, my breath left my lungs with a velocity
that left me winded.
“You have to be kidding me!” I wheezed as I
picked up the piece of paper sat on a countertop
and read the words.
‘On your patient’s kidney, you will
discover
the code to save Mr Fen and your
brother.
Good or bad, I wonder which way you’ll
stray,
as it’s up to you if you replace what you
take away.’
“Oh, you’ll find out that I never joke,” the GM
answered. I wasn’t quite sure how he heard me,
but I already knew I’d never make sense of
anything about him. I only knew he was one sick
bastard, the body laid out on an operating table
testament to that.
“Now,” he continued. “As you can see, this
poor unfortunate patient needs a kidney
transplant, Dr Griffiths. You have all the
equipment you need, and her new kidney is on
ice in the box you can see to the side of the
room.”
“You’re fucking crazy!”
He sighed loudly. “Oh, there’s a fine line
between crazy and genius, Nessa. I know
someone in your profession is highly aware of
that fact. Now, back to the task at hand. Just
giving her a new kidney won’t do, because the
code you need to disarm the bomb is on the one
remaining kidney inside your patient. You will
need to remove it if you’re to save both your
brother and Mr Fen.”
I gagged, the horror from his sick and twisted
game churning the bile in my stomach.
“Of course,” he went on, “you can simply
remove it and decide not to implant the new
kidney. Her life is of no importance to you. You
needn’t worry about it being a match, I’ve done
my homework.”
3:31
“I can’t do a kidney transplant single-handed
in three and a half hours! This is insane.”
“Scrub up, Dr Griffiths. Time is of the
essence.”
Closing my eyes, I drew in a deep breath,
urging myself to get a grip. I had to do this. I
didn’t have any choice. Luckily for me, and the
patient anaesthetised on the table, I was a damn
good surgeon. Yet, performing a kidney
transplant without a team severely lessened the
odds of succeeding.
Although there was hand sanitiser, there
were no gloves to be found. I just prayed the
GM’s depravity hadn’t given me a patient
infected with hepatitis. It wouldn’t surprise me.
Still, with no choice but to play his game, I
picked up the scalpel and began Game One.
Day 1
09.21
Checking the obs on my patient, I was happy
to proceed. Well, happy wasn’t quite the right
term. But her vitals were stable, and after
ensuring she was adequately anaesthetised, I
positioned the scalpel at her lower abdomen
where she had previously been opened up – and
very recently. My hands shook, and I clenched
my teeth, willing the adrenaline to piss off.
“How about some music?” The GM’s voice
filled the eerie silence, making me jump. “After
all, it’s how you like to work, isn’t it?”
I didn’t have time to contemplate how he
knew that, but when the quiet of the clinical but
dismal theatre was filled with the sound of
Halestorm, one of my favourite bands, I finally
felt myself start to relax a little. I found it ironic
that the song was MzHyde, but I couldn’t dwell
on his sick sense of humour.
It was ridiculous, working alone, and many
times I found myself instinctively asking the
otherwise empty room for different instruments,
frustration settling in when I didn’t feel the
pressure of an implement being laid in my open
palm. I was continuously aware of the time, and
as well as checking the patient’s statistics, I was
incessantly clock watching. Time was my
enemy, in more ways than one, and without the
aid of a team, I found the minutes quickly ticking
by.
2:47
I stared at the kidney when I removed it.
Three numbers were branded on the organ like
a barcode, the price tag of my brother’s and Mr
Fen’s lives sickeningly stamped on a poor
woman’s kidney. Although, on inspecting the
organ it was evident she really was in need of a
transplant. I was confused further. Had he
explicitly chosen this woman knowing she
would die if she didn’t receive this new kidney?
Did that make him sicker, or empathetic?
I didn’t have time to deliberate the mind of a
madman and forcing myself to focus, I picked up
the new kidney and got back to work.
0:17
Blowing out a breath when I sutured the final
stitch, I took a step back and ensured all the
patient's obs were fine.
“I’m so sorry,” I told her, even though I knew
she couldn’t hear me. “I’ll have to come back and
check you over later.”
“I’ll make sure she is taken care of. Well done,
Dr Griffiths,” the Game Master stated through
the iPad. “Now, if I were you, I’d run!”
Memorising the three numbers, I threw the
kidney into the sink, and I fucking ran.
0:06
My hands were shaking so hard that I
struggled to input the code. The small
touchscreen was hard to read when the blood
from my fingers smudged the display.
7
2
0:02
9
The countdown stopped on the final minute.
As did the timer on Sam’s life.
Turning to the side, I vomited, retching up
horror and relief and anger. My eyes watered
with the force of each heave and I clung to my
stomach with the pain that gnawed at my
insides.
Depravity had burrowed under my skin and
infected every single cell that ran through my
veins. Pollution slithered deep, poisoning what I
would need to survive this. My own body
attacked me from the inside out, repugnance
impatient to purge the evil from within me.
Disgust seeped through my pores, eager for
escape. I only wished my mind had such an easy
way to bolt from the horror that awaited me.
Finally, Mr Fen lifted his head. His matted
hair fell to the side, partially covering his beaten
face, and he stared straight at me. In a vain
attempt to lick his dry lips, he gave up and
swallowed. “Are you real?” he asked, his voice
broken from pain.
I wasn’t sure if I could answer his question.
My hands shook as I looked down at them.
Blood coated my skin, and a sliver of fleshy
tissue protruded from underneath my fingernail.
Finally, my mind cracked. Falling to my
knees, I screamed to the Game Master, begged
him to hear the agony in my despair. I knew he
listened. He was always listening.
He had fired the starting pistol on our first
game, and like a pawn on a chequerboard, I had
made my very first move.
Day 1
12:53
Mr Fen slowly looked me up and down, his
gaze stopping at my bloody hands before his
eyes shot back up to my face. “Shit, are you
okay?”
I nodded. “It’s not my blood.”
He frowned, but I guessed he sensed my
despair because he didn’t question me. Instead,
he gave me a small smile. “I don’t know what the
hell is going on here, but do you think you can
untie me?”
“Sorry, of course.”
I hurried around him and pulled at the
knotted rope. He groaned and rubbed his sore
wrists. “Thank you.”
“Caelan Fen, meet Dr Vanessa Griffiths,” the
Game Master introduced us as if we were at a
simple dinner party.
Caelan frowned and looked down at the iPad
that had fallen to the floor when I had vomited.
“What the hell?”
“He’s the Game Master,” I whispered as I bent
to pick it up. My throat was sore from being sick,
and the taste in my mouth wasn’t helping to
settle the queasiness that churned in my gut.
“Now,” the GM spoke, gaining both mine and
Caelan’s attention. “As promised, Nessa.”
A choked sob left me when I watched the
screen and saw a figure in black walk towards
Sam. The terror on my brother’s face as he
looked up at the man with wide terrified eyes
had my knees buckling. Luckily, Caelan caught
me before I fell.
I tried desperately to get a better look at the
person, but he wore a balaclava. His eyes were
the only part of him visible, and he never looked
towards the camera once.
Sam was untied, then helped up before being
led away. Caelan held me when I broke and
wept, relief for Sam mixing with fear for my
parents and my sister.
“For obvious reasons,” the GM spoke again,
“Sam won’t be released just yet, but I give you
my word that he will be taken care of until the
end of our game, Dr Griffiths.”
“Your word!” I exclaimed. “Forgive me if I
don’t hold one iota of trust where your bloody
word is concerned. He’s eight years old, you sick
fuck!”
His laughter made my blood run cold; the fact
that my rant hadn’t unsettled him showed how
dangerous he actually was.
“What the hell is going on?” Caelan asked.
“Ah, Mr Fen. Shall we begin?” the GM
addressed Caelan. I remembered his earlier
statement, telling me I would need Caelan’s help
for upcoming games, and intuitively I knew just
what was coming.
“The fuck?” Caelan growled when the image
of my family disappeared, and another picture
filled the screen. It was nearly a duplicate scene.
Four people, I knew instinctively to be Caelan’s
family, sat as mine had. Their hands were bound
to their respective chairs, and the fear on their
faces was a mirror image to the fright that had
been exhibited in the eyes of everyone I held
dear.
“Nessa will fill you in. In the meantime,” the
GM said casually, “you’ll find a bag in the main
foyer of the hospital. It contains all you will need
for your first night as gaming partners. There is
also a charging device for the tablet. I suggest
you use it because tomorrow morning we will
commence Game Two. Oh, and before you get
any ideas to alert anyone, remember I am
always watching you, and your families’ lives
are at my disposal.”
Caelan shook beside me, and he slowly sat
back in the chair. I couldn’t offer him any words
of support. I couldn’t tell him that his family
would be okay because I couldn’t give him false
hope.
“Like you,” I said to him, “I have no idea what
the hell is going on, or why we’re here and this
sick bastard is playing with us. But I do know we
have no choice but to do as he instructs.”
“This is crazy, Dr Griffiths.”
“Please, call me Nessa,” I told him as I knelt
before him. “Now, let me check you over. I need
to make sure there are no internal injuries.”
He stared at me as if I was surreal but
allowed me to examine him. Like me, he didn’t
really have a choice over anything anymore, and
although I was concerned about his health, I was
also a little selfish. If I really did need his help to
finish this sick game, then I couldn’t afford for
him to die on me either.
Did that make me as depraved as the Game
Master? Aren’t we all selfish when the lives of
our loved ones are at risk? If I had to conform to
corruption, then I would. There was no way I
would allow anyone, not even this vile bastard,
to hurt my loved ones.
Day 1
16:36
“So, you’re a copper?”
Caelan nodded and took another bite of the
bland cheese sandwich the Game Master had so
‘kindly’ provided.
“Surely that can’t be a coincidence,” I mused.
About to take a drink of water, he paused
with the bottle halfway to his mouth and
regarded me with narrow eyes. “What do you
mean?”
“Oh, come on, Caelan. A doctor and a police
officer. Two professionals in the public sector. I
don’t know about you, but I’m a damn good
surgeon too.”
“Detective inspector,” he revealed, clicking
his tongue when he grasped what I was trying to
convey. “Maybe you’re right.”
We’d decided to settle in one of the staff
rooms in the hospital's accident and emergency
department. The small room contained not only
beds, but staff toilets, and I felt safer using them
with Caelan being nearby. No way was I
venturing around a dark and abandoned
hospital in need of a loo break. The bag the GM
had left us contained, as he had specified, a
portable charging device for the iPad, along with
basic food and drink provisions, blankets, and
heavy-duty self-powered torches. When the
electricity had powered down a little over half
an hour ago, we were grateful for the light he
provided. It was infuriating to feel gratitude
towards the man that controlled us like puppets,
his manipulation continuing even after he had
left us in maddening silence and perpetual
torment. He was persecuting not only myself
and Caelan, but our families. Yet, here we were,
silently thanking him for his gift of rubbery
cheese sandwiches and light!
Caelan had been checking the tablet
frequently in the hope that he could make sure
his family were still breathing, but the screen
had remained black for over three and a half
hours.
“You know what!” Caelan exclaimed,
throwing his blanket away from him and
shooting upright. “This is crazy. I need to report
this in and get some back-up!”
I gawped at him, my eyes as round as my
mouth. “Are you crazy?”
“He has our family and friends tied to fucking
chairs! We’re here,” he swung his arms around
angrily, “waiting for his sick game to continue.
And you call me crazy!”
“Because right now you’re being a bloody
fool. Have you any idea where our families are?
Do you? Because I don’t! You’re not a fucking
hero, Caelan. This isn’t a silly Hollywood
blockbuster!”
“No, it isn’t!” he argued back. “So why should
we act out his revolting script?”
“Because your mother will die!” I shouted at
him, begging him to listen and see just how
stupid his gung-ho attitude was. “I have
absolutely no doubt he will kill every single one
of your family if you dare to go against his rules.”
“His rules?” he scoffed. “He’s a sick
motherfucker who is insignificant in life. He has
no control over his own life, so he has to …”
“Oh, he has control,” I cut him off. “I have
absolutely no doubt of that. He holds all the
cards, and we have no other choice than to wait
and see what he decides to deal. Please. Please,”
I pleaded, my voice breaking with emotion. “He
has my family too. I don’t want them to die,
Caelan. Please.”
I wasn’t sure if it was my broken sobs that
vanquished his rashness, but he blew out a long
breath and walked over to me.
“I know. I know you’re right, but I just feel so
helpless. I’m a copper for Christ’s sake. This is
just…”
“Crazy,” I finished for him. “Oh, it’s definitely
crazy. But the Game Master is far from insane.”
He ran his hands through his thick black hair
and dropped back onto the threadbare chair to
one corner of the room. Stubble covered his
chin, and in the dim light of the torches, he
looked pale and gaunt.
“You should drink more.”
He snorted, snatching up his bottle of water.
“What I’d do for some alcohol right now.”
“Me too, but we need to keep our wits about
us.”
“Nah,” he shook his head. “We won’t hear
anything more from him tonight.”
“What makes you so sure?” I asked as I
settled on one of the beds and pulled the blanket
up over my shoulders. There was a chill in the
air, and I shivered when goosebumps raced
across my skin.
“Because he said he’d be in touch in the
morning and I have a feeling that although he’s
sick in the head, he’s as honest as they come.”
“Sometimes honesty can be as deplorable as
deceit.”
“Don’t I know it,” he muttered before turning
to me. “So, at least your brother is safe. Who else
does he have?”
My mouth dried when I thought of my family.
“My mum, step-dad, and my sister. You?”
Anger lit his eyes, turning the steel grey
almost granite coloured. “My mother and best
mate. My ex-wife, and my sister-in-law.”
“Your sister-in-law?” I wasn’t sure why I
thought that strange, but Caelan didn’t question
my surprise.
“We’re good friends.”
Sadness seeped into his gaze and to hide it
from me, he turned his face away and changed
the subject. “How old is your sister?”
“She’s twelve.”
He winced and bit his lip. “Damn.”
I nodded. There wasn’t anything to say. My
baby sister would never feel safe again. Not only
was he tormenting her now, but if, and it was a
big if, I managed to save her when it was time
for her game, this would haunt her for the rest of
her life. Her once carefree and untroubled life
was lost forever. She was just a child, but he had
taken her innocence and he’d slaughtered it. As
he had with Sam.
And it was that very reason that had me
vowing when this was all over I would take this
bastard’s life without a second thought. He
thought I was meek and mild, but he was
unaware of my past, and of the things I had done
or the person I had once been. Then again,
maybe he did know exactly who I was, and my
past was the reason he had chosen me. To mock
me, or for revenge, either was possible.
He may have rolled the first dice and made
the first move, but I would be damned if I let him
step onto the end square before me. I didn’t care
if he had a head start, I would end him well
before he crossed the finish line.
Day 2
07:30
Caelan groaned loudly when the fluorescent
strip light on the ceiling burst into life and
flooded the room with light.
I shot upright, fear and alarm at what I knew
was to come kick-starting my brain and waking
me instantly.
“Good morning, gamers,” the GM’s voice
spoke from the tablet which Caelan had laid in
his lap the previous night before we’d both
fallen into a fitful sleep. I hadn’t been plagued
with nightmares like Caelan had, his frequent
cries out alarming me on more than one
occasion. However, I’d had a far from a restful
sleep, and my eyes felt gritty and sore.
Startled by the Game Master’s voice, Caelan
lurched upright and quickly scrambled to catch
the iPad when it fell to the floor. His gasp made
me aware of the image being displayed, and I
hurried over to his side, desperate to give him
the support he needed. He didn’t flinch when I
slid my hand into his and held onto him tightly
when I noticed the timer positioned over a
woman’s head.
“Mum,” he whispered. I wasn’t sure if he was
telling me who she was or just calling her name.
Either way, I frowned when I saw the amount of
time we had to complete the next task.
1:00
“An hour!”
“I love puzzles, don’t you?” the GM said, the
tone of his voice mocking and full of amusement.
I wanted to put my hand through the screen and
yank the bastard into the room with us. Give me
five minutes with this motherfucker, and I’d
show him just how much Denny had taught me.
“Although today’s game is a quickie, it’s
worth double points. Just like Dr Griffiths’ first
game.”
I peered harder at the screen. Only one timer
was lit, and I didn’t get his referral of double
points. My first task had saved both Caelan and
Sam, so who else had the GM involved in
Caelan’s opening game?
“Are we ready?”
Whether we were or weren’t, he didn’t wait
for our confirmation. The image of Caelan’s
mother disappeared and text scrolled across the
screen.
‘Make haste and don’t be slow,
down into the basement you must both
go.
But take heed, you’ll need your boots
if you’re to wade beneath hospital
roots.’
Caelan sprang into action before I’d even
finished reading. Snatching up the torches,
something that would never have occurred to
me to do, he grabbed hold of my hand and
hauled me from the room.
“The elevators will be out, there won’t be
enough power from a generator to operate
them,” Caelan stated, directing me towards the
stairwell.
I jumped out of the way when we burst
through the heavy metal door and disturbed a
slumbering rat. I wasn’t frightened of them, but
it still startled me, and I squealed.
“You okay?” Caelan asked.
Quickly nodding, I urged him to keep going.
There were roughly around seven flights that
we descended. I didn’t count, I was having all on
keeping up with Mr Fitness 2018. Jesus, I was
tempted to encourage him to join Team GB in
the next Olympics.
I was puffing and panting like an eighty-year-
old when we finally reached the bottom.
Nevertheless, Caelan didn’t let up. He dropped
my hand and switched on a torch, beckoning me
after him when he took off running down a long
dim corridor.
“Well done on the hindsight to bring the
torches,” I wheezed.
“This has to be the basement,” he uttered
when we reached the very last door. “There
doesn’t appear to be any more levels to go
down.”
The large room was filled with the loud hum
of generators, even though they were in an
adjoining room and not in the basement itself.
We both quickly scanned the room.
0:38
“Here!” I exclaimed when I saw a note stuck
to another door.
I swear my heart stopped with dread when
Caelan read the next riddle.
‘Sacrificial doctors must go first,
as Detective Inspectors just may be
cursed.
Open the door, Nessa, and step inside,
but take a breath, because there’s
nowhere to hide.’
“Oh, fuck!”
Day 2
07:56
Caelan looked at me with so much hope I
wanted to stab him in the eye.
“You don’t have to do this,” he offered when
he caught my glare.
“Yes, I do.”
Fear and trepidation had my teeth chattering.
It was just one door. Except, it wasn’t the door
what worried me, it was what was on the other
side that petrified me.
“If it’s God damn snakes,” I spat out. “I’m
going to hurt you!”
He gave me a sympathetic smile but grabbed
hold of my hand. “We can do this. Together.”
What the hell was he on about? ‘Together’. It
wasn’t him who had to step beyond the door.
Blowing out a long breath, I sucked another
one in and opened the door.
“Shit!” I squealed when, as I took a single step
into the room, a loud whoosh behind me made
me spin around.
Where the gap should be to step back into the
other room, a sheet of metal had emerged out of
nowhere.
I was trapped.
Frowning, I turned back to the room when
confusion settled heavy in my brain. I didn’t
understand. There was absolutely nothing here.
What was I expected to do?
I tilted my head, listening keenly when I
heard a noise. It sounded like running water.
“Fuck!”
Panic had me pressing my back against the
barrier of steel when water started to pour from
four openings at the top of each wall. Within
minutes it was up to my shins. My heart began to
race as I surveyed the area, looking for a clue of
what I was supposed to do.
Giving up when I found nothing, I spun
around and banged on the sheet of metal.
“Caelan. Get me the hell out of here!”
I wasn’t sure he would be able to hear me,
but when he called back, I was unconvinced if it
was of any comfort or not.
“There’s a riddle and a keypad on my side.
What do you have?”
“Water. Lots and lots of fucking water!”
“Shit,” he muttered quietly. “I think I have to
solve the puzzle to open the door.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” I mumbled to myself.
“And he’s supposed to be the one skilled in
solving puzzles!”
“What?” he asked.
“What is the riddle?” I screamed. My bones
vibrated with the chill of the water that was
quickly rising up my body. “Hurry, Caelan!”
‘Be quick, Mr Fen, and solve the sum,
this is no time to be playing dumb.
There really are no seconds to waste,
before you know, it’ll be up to her
waist.
Eight days of riddles and strife,
that you must conquer to save each life.
So, how many minutes will you spend,
until we all reach the very end?’
“I’m crap at maths!” I shouted, panicking as
the water level crept up my chest. “Hurry!”
“Twenty-four hours in a day,” Caelan
muttered. I wasn’t sure if he was informing me
of the obvious or talking to himself. “So that’s…
eight times twenty-four. Eight multiplied by
twenty is a hundred and sixty, plus four eights…
damn it…”
I looked around the top of the room for
anything to grab hold of when the water reached
my chin, but the Game Master had made sure he
formulated this game to be as difficult as
possible, and I found absolutely nothing.
“Caelan!” I warned, banging on the metal as I
tipped my head back to gulp for air.
I couldn’t hear Caelan’s voice anymore, the
only sound was the whoosh of water in my ears.
Taking a final gulp and filling my lungs as
much as possible, I willed myself to calm down
when the water rose over my head.
What the hell was taking him so long? It was
just a sum for Christ’s sake! I was going to die,
there was no doubt about it. I found it ironic I
was in a hospital. Yet, there was no one here that
could save my life like the many I had over the
years.
As my body began to shut down, visions of my
Denny filled my mind. His smile was broad, his
beautiful eyes shining brightly. He lifted his arm
and stretched his hand out to me. “Hey, baby.”
As I opened my mouth to say his name my
lungs overflowed with water and started to
slowly drown me.
But I didn’t care. I had my husband back. My
Denny had come for me, as he always had. He
had never failed to save my life, and as his
fingers closed around my hand, once again, he
didn’t let me down.
Day 2
08:17
“That’s it, get it out!” Caelan encouraged as I
heaved the water from my lungs, spewing it over
his knees as he sat beside me.
I wasn’t sure what the hell had happened.
One second, I was in the arms of my husband,
and the next I was laid on my side expelling
what had tried so hard to drown me.
“Did we do it on time?”
He smiled and nodded. “Yeah.”
I nodded in return and moved into a sitting
position. “You seriously need some maths
tutoring.”
He blew out a breath and helped me to my
feet. “Have you any idea how hard it is trying to
calculate a sum under that pressure? I got it
wrong twice and panicked. I thought I’d messed
it all up, but strangely he allowed me multiple
attempts.”
Here we were again, feeling gratitude
towards our tormentor. This was undeniably
fucked up.
“Well done, Mr Fen,” the Game Master spoke
through the iPad once again.
We watched as Caelan’s mother was untied
and led away by the mysterious man in black. I
could physically feel Caelan’s relief, and I
slipped my hand in his and gave it a squeeze.
“Now you have the rest of the day to
yourselves,” the GM stated.
Puzzled, Caelan and I frowned at each other.
“I would imagine by now that you’re both in
need of a decent meal and a hot shower. You’re
both to go to Mr Fen’s house and await Game
Three, which will begin at the stroke of
midnight. Under no circumstances are you to
leave until I have forwarded the next
instruction.”
The Game Master was allowing us to go to
Caelan’s home and wait. There had to be some
reason for him to grant us home comforts.
“You will both inform your respective
employers of an illness. But, remember, I’m
always watching, and if you try to notify anyone
of our game, then you will forfeit the lives of
your families.”
Although the screen turned black, notifying
us that the GM had finished his instruction, both
Caelan and I stared at it for an age.
“You think it’s a trap?” I asked Caelan when
he looked at me as sceptically as I did him.
“Hmm. Not sure. But I won’t argue with him.”
I nodded. The thought of a hot shower was
really appealing. My clothes were saturated, and
the chill was starting to rattle my bones.
“I don’t like the sound of the next game
starting at midnight, though.”
“My thoughts precisely,” he agreed.
Day 2
23:07
Caelan’s house was a small but modern two
bedroom – thankfully. I had thought it would be
a little awkward, staying in his home but I
supposed after he had saved my life, as I had his,
it did more than enough to break the ice.
After a hot shower Caelan had rustled up a
simple meal of pasta and meatballs and we had
both taken a much-needed nap.
Neither of us discussed the fact that the Game
Master had left me a fresh pair of clothes on
Caelan’s spare bed. It hadn’t surprised either of
us that he had access to Caelan’s home. After all,
the GM had proved he was far from an amateur.
The clock was forever ticking, midnight now
less than an hour away, and we were both
anxious to get it over and done with.
Music played low in the background as we
both nursed a hot coffee on Caelan’s sofa.
“Do you have any enemies?” he asked. He
didn’t look at me but kept his gaze fixed on the
flames of his gas fire.
“More than you can imagine.”
Turning his head sharply, he looked at me in
astonishment.
Shrugging, I placed my empty cup on the
table. “I’m not sure why you’re so shocked by
that. You don’t know me.”
He nodded as he got up and walked over to a
cupboard. Opening it, he retrieved a bottle of
Jack Daniels. “True. Have you thought of anyone
who could hold this degree of animosity?”
“Lots.” I nodded towards where he poured a
large measure of whisky into my mug. “You sure
that’s wise?”
“No.” He scoffed. “But I need it to steady my
nerves. One small one won’t hurt.”
Agreeing with him, I took a greedy gulp,
relishing the burn as the liquor hit the back of
my throat.
“And you?” I asked when he settled back
down beside me.
“I’m a copper. It goes without saying I have
enemies. Trouble is there are far too many for
me to pinpoint this on anyone specific.”
“What was the answer to the sum, by the
way?”
Caelan glanced at me curiously. “Why?”
“No reason really. The first code was seven
two nine. I’m looking for clues wherever I can
get them.”
“11520,” he stated. “Although I’m not sure
what we can get from a bunch of random
numbers, Nessa.”
“But what if they’re not random? This is his
game, and I have no doubt this shit turns him the
hell on. He’s playing us, and it’s just a sport to
him. He needs entertainment, and I’m taking
nothing for granted where the Game Master is
concerned.”
Reaching onto the table behind him Caelan
picked up a notepad and pen. “Okay, let’s try.”
Jotting down the numbers, we both sat and
stared at them for a while. My brain was
exhausted, and I shook my head angrily. “Even if
we give each number a respective letter of the
alphabet it still doesn’t make sense.”
“I don’t think that until we have all eight
codes we will figure it out, to be honest,” Caelan
mused, rubbing his tired eyes.
“Yeah, maybe.”
He poured us another measure of whisky and
turned to me. “So, you’re right, I don’t know
anything about you. Married? Kids?”
“Neither,” I half-lied. “You?”
“Divorced, but no kids.”
I nodded, remembering him telling me that
one of the GM’s captors was his ex-wife. “Were
you married for long?”
He sucked in a long breath and shrugged.
“Just over three years. But, we were together for
ten years.”
Nodding, I sighed and took another sip before
saying, “So, that’s why he took her…”
“Jenny,” he said, filling in her name.
“Jenny, because she’s still a huge part of your
life?”
“Yeah. I hurt Jen, and I’m not proud of that.
But that’s the kind of woman she is. We’re still
friends and we both mean a great deal to each
other.”
Giving him a sad smile when I saw the fear
seep into his eyes, I quickly changed the subject.
“So, your sister-in-law.” Though, the way his
body stiffened, I wasn’t entirely sure the change
of topic was any easier for him. “You obviously
have a brother.” I found it strange that Caelan’s
‘line-up’ didn’t include his brother. Then again,
she could have been Jenny’s sister.
“Had.” The way he said that one word and the
blanket of melancholy that settled around him
had me wanting to snatch back my words.
When the iPad suddenly lit up, the mood
swiftly altered from gloom to unease. Ice-cold
fear slithered through my bloodstream as
goosebumps beaded on my skin. A shiver racked
my body, and my mouth dried when I heard his
voice.
“Good evening, gamers.”
Gamers? This bastard’s sense of humour was
bordering on disturbing.
“I do hope you’ve both had a pleasant rest.”
I heard the faint crack from Caelan when he
gnawed his teeth together, his jaw as tight as my
fists.
“It’s been a ball,” Caelan growled out.
My next breath caught in my throat when an
image of Stuart, my step-father, appeared on the
screen. A timer popped up over his head and text
scrolled across the screen below him.
4:00
‘In a field made of many stones,
there’re lives this world no longer owns.
In the corner by the large yew,
is where you will find your next clue.’
Caelan blew out a long breath and turned to
me. “We can do this,” he declared with a resolve
I didn’t feel.
“Stuart,” I whispered. I knew Caelan already
realised this, but I felt the need to tell him
anyway.
“I know.”
I had already fathomed where the riddle was
directing us, and when Caelan snatched up his
car keys and nodded to me reassuringly, I
gathered he had guessed correctly too.
The fact that the Game Master was sending us
to a graveyard at midnight filled me with
trepidation.
Nevertheless, we didn’t have much choice. So,
fortifying myself with an imaginary kick up the
arse, I followed my gaming partner out of his
front door and joined him in the realms of hell
itself.
Day 3
00:26
I detested graveyards in the middle of balmy
summer days, never mind on cold, pitch-black
frosty nights. Especially this one. Yew Tree
Cemetery.
A few leaves leftover from the autumn cull
littered the path, and when the wind suddenly
picked up, they blew aside in a mass swirl, lifting
from the ground as if they were explicitly
ordered to move out of our way.
The glow of light from the torch Caelan held
bounced over the hilly terrain, making the
shadows that loomed in the darkness dance for
us.
A shiver raced through me and the hairs on
the nape of my neck snapped to attention. I
became aware of everything around me, my
eyes hunting for escape routes and possible
dangers, my ears alert to each sound in the
darkness. Denny had taught me everything he
knew, and right then I wanted to bring him back
from the dead purely so I could thank him again.
Glancing over my shoulder as I ran behind
Caelan, I was relieved to find we were still alone
– well, so I reckoned from the small area visible
to my eyes.
“You still with me?” Caelan shouted, bringing
my attention back to him and our task ahead.
“Yeah. Keep going!”
The small chapel that sat in the centre of the
grounds emerged ahead, it’s imposing structure
as unnerving as the bones that our feet pounded
over. No lights shone from the windows, and I
was thankful that our clue hadn’t led us inside it;
it was spookier than the graveyard itself.
Caelan veered off to the right, following the
path that meandered behind the building and
leading us to the far right of the grounds.
I breathed a little easier when the cemetery’s
namesake, a well-established yew tree,
materialised in the distance. It was evident
Caelan also knew his way around the
churchyard, his direct route that led us to the
right corner something I was glad of. We
couldn’t waste precious minutes hunting in the
darkness.
My belly tightened with dread when I saw a
note nailed to the trunk.
‘Six feet down you must go
to disentomb what lies below.
Through dirt and bone, you must
explore,
to retrieve the key to the chapel door.’
So much for avoiding the chapel, then.
Caelan spun around in a circle, searching
with the torch. “Jesus Christ,” he mumbled when
the beam fell upon a grave. Two spades leaned
against the headstone and beside them was an
industrial-sized floodlight.
Glancing at the timer on the iPad, I grumbled
under my breath, “Three and a half hours to
exhume a body.” Caelan scowled at me when I
exclaimed. “We’ve no chance.”
“We’ve every chance, Nessa.”
Firing up the large, bulky spotlight, it’s
direction already correctly aimed at the grave,
Caelan didn’t waste time and handed me one of
the spades.
The further down we dug, the less progress
we seemed to be making. My muscles ached and
sweat rolled down my face from the exertion.
Caelan, luckily, was fit and he shovelled the dirt
at an astonishing rate, but I was forever aware
of the minutes ticking by. Each second that
passed was like a rhythmic pulse in my head,
every thud on my mind an echo of Stuart’s
heartbeat that rested in my hands. Failing wasn’t
an option, yet I felt the sting of tears the longer
we took to burrow deeper down.
My mind whirled as to why the Game Master
played his sick game with Caelan and I. Why us
two specifically? The only answer I could come
up with was this had something to do with
Denny. Yes, my husband had upset many in his
short life, but why now, three years after his
death?
The sound of Caelan’s grunts the harder he
dug was a pace we found ourselves ploughing
through the earth to. However, every single
scrape of my shovel into the ground was topped
by two of Caelan’s. Not that I complained.
Finally, when the sound of metal hitting
wood resounded in our ears, Caelan grinned at
me.
Putting our shovels aside, we continued to
dig at the remaining dirt with our hands.
“Sure you don’t want to look away?” Caelan
asked as he positioned the tip of his spade to the
edge of the coffin.
Raising an eyebrow, I sighed. “I’ve seen
plenty of dead bodies in my life. I’m sure another
won’t make a difference to my sanity.”
Nodding, he chuckled. “Keep forgetting
you’re a doctor.”
“Just hurry!”
A crack splintered the otherwise silent night
as Caelan yanked the lid upwards, the decaying
wood breaking to pieces in his hands.
Something niggled at my mind and I frowned.
“Caelan.”
He turned, grinning at me as he held a long
rusty key in his fingers. “Found it!”
I scanned the area, looking towards the
mound of the earth we’d dug up, turf included.
“Caelan.”
“What?” he answered vaguely as he hoisted
himself out of the hole and held out a hand to
help me up.
Brushing myself off after climbing out, I bit
my lip, angry with myself as I tried in vain to
figure out what was bugging me. Exhaustion
suppressed every possible train of thought, and
the more I tried to think the more frustrated I
became.
Shaking myself off and cursing under my
breath, I bounded after Caelan who was already
heading towards the chapel.
A flutter of bats swooped over our heads
when Caelan unlocked the door and forced it
open. I squealed but only because they had
surprised me. Caelan swung around, checking
on me. “Okay?”
I nodded, took a breath, and followed him in.
Day 3
03:56
00:14
‘The number you must dial
to save Stuart an awful trial,
is guarded by four simple locks
that gain you entry into the small box.’
Glancing from the riddle to a small chest
secured by four simple padlocks, I felt my
stomach flip-flop with worry.
“We don’t have time!” I exclaimed as I
snatched up a large hoop that must have
contained at least forty keys.
“We do!” Caelan insisted. His optimism was
beginning to annoy me, but in a way, he was
right. We HAD to have enough time. There was
no other choice.
Tears stung my eyes when I gazed at the love
of my mother’s life on the screen of the iPad, the
timer above his head like a noose around my
neck, each second that ticked by another
centimetre the rope tightened.
Caelan snatched the keys from me and pulled
at the two rings that split the bunch in half.
Handing me one half, he didn’t wait and started
to slot various keys into the fourth padlock. I
started at number one, quickly switching
through the many different keys.
00:09
Finally, the first padlock flicked open and I
breathed a sigh of relief. Caelan then proceeded
to open his first lock seconds behind me.
Perspiration made the keys slip in my fingers,
and I grew irritated with myself. I needed to
work quicker.
00:04
“Fuck! Caelan!” I was starting to panic, my
eyes frequently glimpsing from the padlock to
the timer on the iPad. Stuart stared straight
ahead, unaware of just how much his life
depended on my gaming partner and me.
“Calm down!” Caelan spoke quietly, his
concentration set on his task. He hissed a, “Yes!”
when his final lock clicked open.
00:01:32
Tears fell down my face, obscuring my vision
and hindering my attempts to slot in the keys.
Caelan took over from me, working his way
through his own set of keys on my one
remaining padlock. As if by magic, the first key
he chose unlocked the final lock.
00:00:05
Throwing open the box, Caelan grabbed the
mobile phone that sat inside. His hands shook as
he started to input the numbers that were jotted
down on a small piece of paper.
002…
14...
I couldn’t take my eyes off the iPad, the image
blurring under the sheen of tears and the
tremble in my hands.
“Caelan!” I screamed when the man in black
came to stand behind Stuart. In his hand he held
a katana. The beat of my heart paused when he
slowly lifted his arm.
00:00:01
34…
00:00:00
My whole world crumbled, and I fell to my
knees when the timer clicked to zero, and the
man in black decapitated Stuart’s head in one
single smooth stroke of the blade.
Day 3
08:31
Numbness had settled in. I couldn’t feel the
beat of my heart or see anything but the gory
sight of Stuart’s blood spray the camera that had
been trained on him. The echo of my mother’s
screams and the sound of Carolyn’s loud cries
refused to allow me to hear anything else.
My head rested on Caelan’s lap, and his
fingers softly stroked my hair, his faint shushes
doing nothing to comfort the devastation I felt.
A part of me thought that the GM wouldn’t do
it, that his threats would be unfounded. But,
now, I finally realised just how dangerous this
sick motherfucker was.
“I’m going to kill him, Caelan. And, copper or
not, I don’t care if you’re there to witness it.”
I sensed his nod, but he didn’t verbally
respond. I knew he didn’t believe me. They
never did. I was merely a woman, I wouldn’t
hurt someone, right? Wrong! They always had
that flicker of confidence in their eyes when I
stepped up to take their last breath, and when
realisation dawned, and horror slowly crept
over them, I found that just as exhilarating as the
execution itself.
Gently Caelan lifted my head and placed it
back down on the sofa cushion when he stood
up. “I’m going to run you a bath.”
I didn’t answer him; he didn’t expected me to.
Nor did I watch him leave. I couldn’t lift my head
with the exhaustion that had taken over. So
much blood. I’d seen some gruesome shit in my
life, both professionally and personally, but the
way the man in black had so effortlessly taken
Stuart’s life was staggering. He had shown no
hint of apprehension, no jolt in his strike when
he had swung the blade. Empathy should make
him hesitate, give pause as one’s conscious
fought between immorality and integrity. This
man was merciless, inhumane.
The Game Master had upped his game.
Sitting upright, I picked up the notepad and
jotted down the phone number.
Caelan gave me a soft smile from where he
stood leaning on the doorframe a short while
later. “Bath’s ready.”
He came to stand beside me and peered down
at the new numbers. “Co-ordinates, maybe?” I
mused.
“Nah,” he disagreed, “the first number is only
three digits long.”
The earlier bafflement in the graveyard when
I couldn’t put my finger on what was wrong
suddenly hit me, and I gasped. “The grass!”
“Sorry?” Caelan queried, coming to sit beside
me.
“The grave. It had grass on.”
“Well, yeah, they generally do.”
Shaking my head, I turned to him. “But, the
GM had to have put that key down there with the
body.”
Caelan’s eyes widened when it dawned on
him too. “And the grave hadn’t recently been dug
up.”
“Exactly. So, it had to be at least six months
ago when he planted that key.”
“Shit. He’s been planning this whole game for
a while. This makes him so much more ruthless,
his games much more calculated.”
“Way more. This has to be down to…”
We both jumped when the iPad lit up.
Grabbing it from the table, I clenched my teeth
when his voice crackled through the speakers.
“You didn’t think I would take his life,” the GM
spoke.
“You fucking bastard!”
“You should be grateful I gave your step-
father a swift, clean death, Dr Griffiths.”
Caelan put his hand on my arm and shook his
head when I opened my mouth in anger. “Don’t
give him the satisfaction, Nessa.”
Biting my tongue, I tried to control my raging
breathing. My chest heaved with every ounce of
air I dragged in, and I began to pant with the
effort.
“This afternoon,” the Game Master continued,
“at two pm exactly, you will both walk into the
King and County public house on Connaughton
Street. You will buy a single drink each, drink it
at a table, and then leave.”
I closed my eyes in dismay. Shit. The pub he
specified was notorious for gangland criminals,
the local drinking hole to the roughest and
hardest men, and women for that matter, in the
region. Furthermore, it was the GM’s choice of
pub that revealed he knew exactly who I was
and that he wanted me to know that.
“Fuck!” Caelan hissed under his breath. The
worry on his face made me wince. Of course, he
was a copper, and I had no doubt he was well-
known to every single man that would be in the
pub.
“It’ll be okay,” I expressed with a small smile.
“Trust me.”
He huffed. “For you maybe, not so much for
me.”
Although I tried to alleviate his worry, I
couldn’t help but feel anxious myself. I wasn’t
sure how it would go down, me walking into the
epicentre of the London mafia with none other
than a ‘pig’. It could go either way, in my favour,
or it could all go horribly wrong.
With every hour that passed, the Game
Master proved to be much smarter than I
thought. He had a reason for sending us to the
King and County, his logic unknown to me as yet.
Still, I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to find out
his motive.
However, Caelan and I, as expected, would
follow our orders, and yet again feed our
master’s sick and twisted amusement. He had
rolled the dice once more, and Caelan and I took
another step across the playing board.
Day 3
14:00
Caelan grabbed my hand and we both blew
out a long breath. Then I pushed open the door
to the King and County and took a step inside.
As I suspected, it was packed with its usual
gathering of criminals. If it wasn’t a public
house, it could easily have been mistaken for a
prison recreation room. Except, these men
hadn’t been foolish enough to get caught and
detained at her majesty’s pleasure.
All heads turned our way, and when an
unnerving silence cloaked the room like a
suffocating shroud, Caelan’s hand tightened in
mine.
I squeezed back and took a wobbly step
forward. I just had to make it to the bar. One step
at a time.
My lungs squealed under the atmospheric
pressure that sucked all the oxygen out of the
air. My heart beat fast and my soul hid in the
shadow of my sorrow, both contradicting each
other and making me lightheaded.
The barman set his eyes on me, before
moving his gaze to Caelan and narrowing them
into a glare.
My intuition had been spot-on. Everyone
knew precisely who Caelan was.
“Two Jack, no ice,” I ordered quickly, bringing
his attention back to me. My voice sounded loud
in the silence of the room, and I was amazed at
how much confidence I projected in the four
words.
His gaze switched from me to the corner of
the room. He was asking for permission to serve
me. I kept my stare straight ahead, refusing to be
intimidated.
I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed
when he then proceeded to fix our drinks. I
wanted an excuse to just up and leave. However,
as the saying goes, ‘who wants never gets.’
“Didn’t expect to get served,” Caelan
admitted under his breath, his voice quiet
enough for only my ears.
I handed the barman a twenty, instructing
him to keep the change and praying it was
enough of a bribe, and picked up my drink. As I
brought it to my lips, eager to down the shot in
one so we could get the hell out of there, Caelan
stopped me with a hand on my arm. “We were
instructed to sit down and drink it.”
I could hear the impatience in his voice, his
hurry to leave as fast as we possibly could as
compelling as my own.
Swiftly scanning the room, I was pleased to
find an empty table in the corner by the front
door, and I quickly made my way over to it.
Caelan sat down opposite me, and as soon as
both of our backsides met the seat did we
promptly swallow our drinks down in one.
Caelan gave me a rushed nod, and we both
stood back up, slamming our empty glasses on
to the table.
We were so nearly there! So, so close.
Just as I pushed open the door to leave, the
voice behind me made me close my eyes in
dismay. “Nessa!”
“Fuck!” I hissed under my breath.
I could feel Caelan’s confused stare on me,
but I didn’t look to him. Instead, I took a deep
breath and turned around.
“Frank.”
His smile was broad and sincere as he made
his way over to me. Although I felt a bitch for
ignoring him, the genuine need to get Caelan
safely out of there was paramount.
Frank’s impressive form loomed over both of
us. He was built like a brick shithouse. Every
inch of his skin was painted with sinister but
colourful tattoos. His plain white tee stretched
over the expanse of his massive chest, enhancing
every single one of his muscles. He was formed
like a machine. And trained to kill like a weapon.
While his smile was welcoming, his stare on
me was anything but. “You good, Missy?” His
voice was just as formidable as his physique.
“I’m good.” This time there was no confidence
in my voice, and the slightest twitch of Frank’s
lips told me he had heard the strain that clogged
my throat.
Very slowly his smile faded, and his scrutiny
moved to Caelan. He studied him carefully, his
stern glower as threatening as a knife to the
throat. Give Caelan his due, he remained firm,
his jaw tilted upwards and his eyes fixed on
Frank’s. His determination not to be browbeaten
more than impressed me and I felt myself move
a little closer to his side.
“He’s with me, Frank.” I wasn’t sure what the
hell to say, but I felt a deep-seated need to make
it clear that Caelan wasn’t to be touched.
Frank turned his glare on me, his eyes
narrowing to slits. “You do know who he is,
Ness?”
“I do,” I confirmed with more composure
than I felt. Jutting out my chin and straightening
my shoulders in defiance, I nodded subtly. “And,
as I said, he’s under my protection.”
Frank’s jaw clenched, and I could feel the
vehemence from him roll over me in waves. It
was almost choking, as though he used raw fury
as a weapon. My skin felt tight, and my heart
thudded against my breastbone. Undiluted fear,
not for me but for the man beside me, was
becoming venomous in my bloodstream,
polluting my bones with a toxin only Frank
could concoct, and making it difficult to remain
upright.
After a long pregnant silence, he nodded
once. “Only because it’s you will I give him a
pardon, Nessa. But I give you fair warning, the
next time this motherfucker comes within a
metre of me, I will end him.”
Swallowing back the lump that had formed in
my throat, I gave him a respectful nod. “Duly
noted. Thank you.”
“Nah, don’t thank me, Missy, just consider it a
debt paid.”
I couldn’t help but smile at his subtle wink.
Relief poured through me, and I finally took a
real breath. “Then consider your IOU paid in
full.”
After giving me a hard, meaningful stare, he
abruptly turned around, giving us our orders to
leave.
Caelan almost stumbled through the doors
and out onto the street. His breathing was
ragged as his lungs sucked in what had been
limited for the duration of our encounter.
“I’m not sure whether or not I want to know
how the hell you and Frank Johns know each
other.”
I clenched my teeth and answered his
unasked question without making eye-contact.
“He’s family. My cousin.”
Caelan’s eyebrows climbed high on his
forehead as he looked at me in disbelief. “Can
choose your friends, but not your family, eh?” He
chuckled, quoting the well-known phrase as we
climbed into his car.
My legs felt heavy, and I was glad to be sat
once again. I wasn’t entirely sure how Caelan
would be able to drive when I watched his body
quake. Death had stared him in the face, his
existence only allowed if Frank permitted it.
Even I had been unsure as to how we would be
greeted.
I closed my eyes and rested my head back
against the seat, once again indebted to the
blood that ran through my veins. I had to
wonder though when my past would finally set
me free. Or if it would ultimately turn against
me instead of guarding me?
I was confused as to what the GM had gained
from that little exercise. It hadn’t been a game as
such, none of our family member’s lives had
been beholden on whether we succeeded or not.
Yet, I had a feeling we would soon find out his
reasoning, and I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to
or not.
Day 3
21:05
I was a little more than tipsy, as was Caelan.
We knew there wouldn’t be another game until
tomorrow, so we had taken a bottle of Jack, two
glasses, no ice, and welcomed the oblivion it
offered us.
“So, we both decided it was time to walk
away,” Caelan said. He’d been talking about his
marriage and how his job had, in the end, been
the ‘affair’ that had ended their relationship.
“It’s nice that you remained friends though,” I
remarked.
He nodded, tipping back more whisky. “Yeah.
And as bad as this sounds, I’m thankful we never
had kids.”
“I’m with you there!”
Reaching for the bottle that sat on the table, I
laughed when my body teetered too far
forwards, and Caelan grabbed the back of my t-
shirt to stop me face-planting the glossy wood.
“Think you’ve had enough, Nessa.”
“There isn’t enough alcohol in the world
tonight!”
He gave me a sad smile and sighed when he
saw the sorrow seep into my eyes. “How are you
holding up?”
Shrugging, I poured us more wonderful liquid
and placed the bottle on the floor by my feet for
easier access. “I don’t think it's sunk in yet.
Stuart was a good man, Caelan. Carolyn and Sam
are his, but he never treated me any differently
to them. He took me on like one of his own, and
he didn’t deserve that!”
“No, he didn’t.”
“I’ve known some bastards in my life, but the
GM, I don’t actually think he has a soul! He’s
calculated and very, very dangerous.”
“Well versed with bastards, huh?” he probed,
observing me.
“There’s that copper in you!”
I wasn’t prepared to allow him my secrets,
primarily because he was on the force. I wasn’t
entirely sure how he would handle my past, and
I wasn’t willing to put that on our relationship
quite yet. I needed Caelan, and I was selfish
enough to lie to him to keep him onboard if I had
to.
“So, there’s been no special someone in your
life then?”
My heart ached when I thought of my Denny,
and deciding to meet Caelan halfway, knowing
he wouldn’t let up until I gave him something, I
knocked back my drink and nodded. “Yes. I was
married, but my husband died three years ago.”
“Shit,” Caelan hissed. Grabbing my hand, he
slipped his fingers through mine. “I’m sorry.
That must be hard.”
“It was.”
I felt him tense beside me. The pity in his eyes
angered me. Caelan had no idea how much I
should hate him. But I couldn’t afford to be
sentimental. Not yet, anyway.
After a beat of silence, Caelan spoke,
surprising me when he divulged, “My brother,
Noah, was murdered.”
“That’s why you’ve remained friends with
your sister-in-law?”
He nodded. “It was hard for Debbie. Their son
was two when Noah died. I’ve tried to be there
for them both as much as possible.”
I smiled. “You have a good heart, Caelan Fen.”
Winking playfully, he chuckled. “I know!”
“Modest too.” I laughed, refilling our glasses
again.
The pain was starting to numb, and I felt
more relaxed than I had in days.
“Anyway, tell me, how did you end up in this
game?” I asked him, diverting the conversation
away from the grief we both still felt.
“God knows!” He took a large swallow before
speaking. “I remember going to bed. The next
thing I knew I was suspended from a chain in the
middle of some shit-stinking room being set on
by the man in black and an iron bar.”
“Ouch!” I declared with a wince. “At least he
didn’t hurt me. I’m the same. It was my birthday
the day before, and yeah, I was drunk, but not
too much to know I made it to bed that night.
Next morning, I woke up in the hospital with
you.”
“I’d been out drinking with my mate the night
before,” he told me. “Maybe he spiked our
drinks.”
“Where had you been drinking?”
“Lawrence’s in the precinct.”
I stared at him. Due to the amount of Jack I
had consumed, his face was blurred but I was
still able to focus. “Snap!”
“He had to have been in there with us!”
Snatching up the notepad we had jotted the
numbers onto, Caelan wrote down the name of
the club we’d both been in. “If I get a chance I’ll
try and obtain the CCTV from that night,” he
whispered.
I was unsure whether the GM could hear us,
but I wouldn’t be surprised if he had rigged
Caelan’s house with microphones.
“Why us, Caelan?” I asked quietly. “Nothing
makes sense.”
Caelan shook his head and sighed heavily. “I
dunno, babe. I wish I did. If I had something to go
on, I could start getting my head around who the
fuck is playing with us.”
“I have a feeling there’s more playing this
game than we anticipate.”
He narrowed his eyes at me, tilting his head
in puzzlement. “What makes you think that?”
“This is too hard to pull off by a solo player.
Take the grave, for instance. That has taken
months of planning, Caelan. The kidney
transplant, someone had already opened and
closed her up before me. The suturing was
precise, skilled. You’re telling me the GM not
only is an expert physician, but also a man
practised enough to rig an old hospital room
with pipework effective enough to turn it into a
sealed tank. This isn’t a spur of the moment idea
of someone’s. We weren’t just random people he
picked out at a club. Every detail has been
formulated and plotted. He can’t afford mistakes,
and he knows it.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
“Trust me, I’ve seen enough plots in my time
to know this game isn’t haphazard. He’s
meticulous, with every detail, and that tells me
that our tormenter is always one step ahead of
us. There’s a reason he sent us to that pub today,
and if I’m perfectly honest, I’ve had a sense of
dread ever since we stepped foot inside.”
Caelan nodded in agreement. “You and me
both. It didn’t make sense. It was a fruitless
exercise, with absolutely no point to it. Yet, I
don’t doubt for one moment it was anything but
unintentional.”
There was more to come, of that there was no
uncertainty. The anticipation and conjecture
were all part of the GM’s torture. He had played
with me in a very different way today, sending
us to the King and County. He knew way more
than I thought he had. This was his way of telling
me he knew exactly who I was. I could almost
foresee his next step. He was manipulating mine
and Caelan’s relationship, tormenting me in the
meantime.
I had to admit, if I didn’t have Caelan, then I
knew I stood no chance of reaching the end of
this cruel game. That fact not only worried me, it
absolutely terrified me.
Day 4
11:30
‘Do you have what it takes to win the
race,
in a place where everyone now knows
your face?
Will you make it to the end, or meet
defeat,
as you take a trip down Connaughton
Street?’
Yesterday now made complete sense.
My heart thudded against my chest as I cast a
glance at Caelan. His jaw was rigid, his fists
clenched tight as he stared at the timer above
his best friend’s head on the iPad.
“You must walk this quest alone, Mr Fen,” the
GM articulated. “If you make it to the end, there
will be a car and driver waiting for you.”
‘Ifyoumakeittotheend.’
The echo of the ‘IF’ replayed over and over in
my head, plus Frank’s declaration yesterday.
“Thenexttimethismotherfuckercomeswithin
ametreofme,Iwillendhim.”
“Oh, you clever bastard! Well played.” I could
almost see his smug grin… If I could actually
picture his face in my mind.
The GM knew damn well that Frank wouldn’t
give Caelan another pass. It would show him out
to be a laughing stock, make a fool of him in
front of all who he ruled over!
“Three hours. That’s not too bad,” I said as I
focussed on the timer. “Connaughton Street is
quite short.”
Caelan laughed, surprising me. “It could be a
hundred-acre open field, Nessa, I ain’t gonna
reach the end. We both know it.”
“You will,” I declared with more
determination than I felt. Different scenarios
played out in my mind. If I could just get an hour
to myself, without the Game Master knowing,
then I could, hopefully, make this quest a whole
lot easier for Caelan.
“What’s your friend’s name?” I asked as I
tried to keep the concern off my face.
“Steve.”
Grabbing Caelan’s hand, I gave it a squeeze as
an idea started to form in my head. “Well, today
is not the day that Steve will die. That I can
promise you.”
He quirked an eyebrow, disbelieving. Taking
a deep breath, he snatched up his keys. “Let’s get
this shit over and done with.”
Caelan frowned at me when I slipped on my
shoes and took my jacket off the hook by his
front door. “The GM said I had to do this alone.”
Nodding, I gave him a smile. “He said you had
to walk alone, he didn’t say I couldn’t come with
you. And besides, he said a car will be waiting
for you at the other end. Someone has to drive
your car back.”
He looked sceptical but conceded and took
my hand in his. “I need you to promise me that if
I fail, you will play as hard as you can to save Jen
and Debbie.”
Scowling at him, I shook my head. “You’ll be
right here beside me when their games are to be
played, Caelan…”
“Promise me, Nessa!” he asserted with a
glower of his own. “I need you to promise me!”
Swallowing back the lump that had formed
with Caelan’s request, I gave him a simple nod. “I
promise.” I knew why it was vital for him to hear
my vow. I had to hope that he would fight for
Carolyn and my mother if the time came that I
couldn’t.
His gaze on me softened, and for a long
moment, we became lost in the security of each
other. We were each other’s strength in the
powerlessness of the game we played, one
another’s crutch when we felt time crippling us.
I wanted to stay locked in the refuge of his eyes
forever, pretend that none of this was happening
and I was merely in the moment with a lover.
Except Caelan wasn’t my lover. He was my
gaming partner. And, as usual, time was quickly
moving on.
Shaking himself off, Caelan gave me an
encouraging nod, and for the fourth time we
stepped back onto the game board.
2:17
Fear accelerated the beat of my heart as I
watched Caelan stand at the junction of
Connaughton Street and Bradley Road.
Connaughton Street was a built-up avenue that
not only accommodated the King and County
and a general store but was occupied by rows of
terraced houses that were home to the pub’s
clientele. Basically, the whole street was owned
by the London mafia, or more specifically,
whoever was head of gangland crime. The road
was busy at this time of day, the residents going
about their daily lives. It was lunchtime, and
most were leaving their homes to sample the
dinnertime delights at the pub. All in all, the
street was heaving with the most dangerous
men in England. And Caelan had to walk straight
through the middle of them all.
Slipping from the car, I took a stealthy look
around before I made my way to the alleyway
that ran between Connaughton Street and
Prairie Drive. I had to hope that the GM was
focussed entirely on Caelan and the task he had
set him. If I was wrong, this could all go horribly
wrong.
Day 4
12:15
Caelan
My legs wouldn’t move. I was going to fail
this game before it had even begun.
I’d already had a few glances, confusion on
the faces of each Face as I stood like a lemon on
the corner of the most notorious street in
London.
Forcing myself to move, I blew out a long
breath and put one foot forward. My legs felt
like jelly, and I had to compel my feet to keep
moving. Did I run? Was I even permitted to run?
I was having enough bloody trouble walking
never mind sprinting the length of the street.
The iPad felt heavy in my hands, like a ticking
bomb, which I supposed it was really.
I couldn’t understand what the hell this
bastard wanted from Nessa and I. Nothing he did
made sense. And more to the point, would this
game even supply a new set of numbers? Both
Nessa and I knew that the numbers given with
each game were significant. The GM was sick
enough to provide us with clues, our failure to
work it out amusing him no end.
I could see the end of Connaughton Street,
and I concentrated on a car that sat idle. A
person was visible, his face turned towards
where I stood. Although I couldn’t make out his
features from the distance between us, it was
clear that he was a man.
The further I walked, the more people
stopped whatever it was they were doing and
slowly turned their attention on me. The air
appeared to marble in front of me, fear
distorting my vision as each man I strode past
trained their eyes on me. I could almost taste the
hatred from them, their abhorrence thickly
coating my tongue. The sense of my own death
loomed in the moments ahead, my fate in the
hands of each person following my every move.
The King and County loomed high and
imposing as I moved past it. Silence had
descended, shock and disbelief making each
criminal part like the red sea in front of me. I felt
like I was on display, a white lily boastful and
taunting in a field of blood-red poppies.
My footsteps stuttered when, from a group of
men, Taylor Williamson, Frank Johns’ second,
stepped out into plain view. Hatred and
suspicion were clearly etched out in the hard
lines of his face as he directed his stark stare to
me. The quiet was deafening, the volume of my
own frantic pulse in my ears making my brain
ache.
More men stepped from their houses, the
actuality of a known police officer having the
nerve to walk down a street that was the hub of
criminality, perplexing even the more intelligent
of the London mafia. It seemed that every single
member of the underworld was on Connaughton
Street just to witness the fool that paraded his
madness for all to see.
Anxiousness made my stomach curdle, but I
forced myself to keep moving. I wanted to run, I
needed to run, yet I knew that the heaviness of
dread which weighed down my legs forbid me
to. The end seemed unreachable, as though I was
circumnavigating a roundabout and the exit I
needed was always out of reach.
Just as I reached the midway point, the high-
pitched sound of a gunshot shattered the silence.
A sudden and excruciating pain exploded in my
right shoulder blade and the pain of it took me
to my knees. The jolt from the hard concrete
careered more pain through my arm, and I
instinctively grabbed my shoulder. My vision
swam, the sickening dizziness of pain making
me look at the floor to ground myself. Blood
coated my arm, a dark river of red seeping down
my skin and onto the road as I struggled to fill
my lungs.
My eyes closed instinctively when two
booted feet entered my line of sight, and the cold
press of metal on my scalp made the beat of my
heart pause.
“I’m not sure who is more foolish.” Taylor
Williamson’s distinctive growl resounded in the
eerie quiet around us. “You for having the nerve
to think you’ll survive this, or me for allowing
you to have reached so fucking far?”
“I just want to get to the end, that’s all.”
His bark of laughter made me wince, and I
grit my teeth together. “As I said, a fool,” Taylor
stated. I completely agreed with him. The toe of
his boot lightly pushed the underside of my chin,
and he lifted my face until I was looking up at
him. “Get up.”
Nausea and wooziness from the pain in my
shoulder made me stumble as I tried to push
myself off the ground, but eventually I stood tall
and found myself looking him in the eye. We
were now surrounded by men, and several
women, who were hungry for a close-up of my
death. Sadness hung heavy in my heart as I
thought about Steve, Jenny, and Debbie, and how
my failure would also be their sentence to death.
I found it odd though, how the GM thought I
would have ever been able to complete this task.
Surely, he’d have known I was a dead man, and I
wouldn’t have a chance of winning this? This
whole task didn’t make sense. Yes, he was a sick
fuck, but there was an integrity about him, that if
I didn’t have a hope of winning the game, it
made him a cheat. And that was something he
definitely wasn’t.
Taylor pressed the muzzle of his gun to my
temple. A shudder raced through me as
resignation set in and I accepted my fate. I had to
pray that Nessa would do everything in her
power to save Jenny and Debbie, although a part
of me knew she would. She was one of the
toughest women I had met in the entirety of my
life, and I’d met plenty of hard bitches in my time
with the police. There was something about her,
a niggle, I couldn’t put my finger on, though. We
all had skeletons in the cupboard, but I had a
feeling Nessa’s secrets were explosive.
“Any last requests, pig?”
Staring him straight in the eyes, I took a final
breath and hoped with everything I had. “Just
one.”
He shrugged but nodded. “I may have
underestimated you. You may be crazy, but
you’re a fearless fuck, I’ll give you that.”
My mouth was so dry that I wondered if I
would even be able to voice my one
requirement, and licking my lips, I prayed as I
asked, “You take my body to the end of your
street and hand me over to the man in the car sat
waiting for me.”
It was an odd request, yes, but I had to hope
that if I made it to the car, dead or alive, the GM
would take it as completion. Maybe Taylor was
right, and I was a fool, but I had to still believe,
dead or alive.
Taylor frowned and keeping the gun trained
on my forehead he turned to look down the
street. The man was sat watching us,
unconcerned, as he waited to see if his services
would be required after all.
Shaking his head, confounded, Taylor turned
back to me and shrugged. “Not my problem if
you bleed out all over his Merc.”
It’s true what they say. Your life does flash
before your eyes the instant before your death.
Stages, milestones, memories, and every single
face that had been significant to me flickered
like a fast-paced slideshow of a photo album. As
though treasuring its final beat, my heart
slowed, and my soul held tight to my bones as it
expectantly awaited its unwanted liberation.
The sound of the gunshot made my body jerk
in surprise. The surprise being I was still alive.
A hushed silence descended, and the shock
from each man surrounding me had me opening
my eyes.
Taylor’s gaze was focussed on something, or
someone, behind me, and although his gun was
still pressed against me, it didn’t stop me from
turning my head to see just what everyone was
staring at.
My knees jerked when Nessa stood in the
doorway to the King and County, a gun in her
hand and her arm stretched to the sky.
What-the-ever-living-fuck?
“He’s mine! And under the shelter of me and
my prominence!” she shouted, the conviction in
her voice strong and loud. “If you don’t want a
war, then you’ll allow him his voyage on,
Taylor!”
Frank Johns, who was stood right beside
Nessa, merely nodded his head firmly.
The feel of the cold steel against my skin
disappeared. Turning back to Taylor, I found he
had stepped to the side. He didn’t look pleased,
but he did appear accepting.
I had no clue as to what the hell had just
happened. However, I didn’t waste time waiting
to find out.
Snatching up the iPad from where it had
fallen to the floor, I forced my feet to move. I
didn’t look back. I didn’t want to. I had to trust
that Nessa would be okay. After all, the respect
from her cousin obviously had her safety.
The man in the car grew larger the closer I
got, and the detail that he was wearing a full-
head rubber mask became more disheartening.
He said nothing when I fell into the back of
his car. Nor did I.
I keyed in the three numbers that were
pinned to the back of his headrest into the iPad.
143
And then I passed out.
Day 4
15:18
Nessa smiled at me when I opened my eyes.
“How are you feeling?”
Doing a mental check on myself, I pushed
myself upright and winced at the pain in my
shoulder. “Sore.”
“Understandable.”
Taking the pills that she held out to me with a
glass of water, I swallowed them down and
looked at my shoulder. A bandage covered the
wound, but I was pleased to see there was no
blood staining the cream linen. “Thank you.”
Pouring us both a shot of whisky, Nessa
shook her head as she passed me the glass. Jack
Daniels seemed to be our staple diet over the
last few days. “It’s what I’m trained to do,
Caelan, luckily.” Her small laughter was broken
off when the Game Master’s voice resonated
from the iPad which sat on the coffee table.
“I’m impressed, Miss Griffiths. I did wonder
whether you would reveal your true self to Mr
Fen.”
Above the image of Steve, the timer had
stopped, and the man in black walked into view
and untied my best friend. My relief was vocal as
I blew out a long breath. I had wondered if
Nessa’s interference would be taken as cheating,
but it was almost as if the GM had expected it.
Which made him all the more calculating, and
one step ahead of us yet again.
“About that,” I said when I turned to look at
Nessa. “You want to fill me in on why, or rather,
how, you managed to save me from the fate I
had resigned myself to?”
“Not yet, unfortunately. And it isn’t because I
want secrets between us. Just take it for what it
was, and we forget about it.”
Narrowing my eyes at her, I didn’t have any
choice but to accept her need to be so
clandestine. I couldn’t force the truth from her.
Neither did I want to be fobbed off with a lie. So,
for now, I had to grant her request for
discretion. Maybe she was shamed by the fact
that she shared the same blood as Frank Johns,
after all, I wouldn’t want the fact that I was
related to the mafia announced to the world
either. Especially to a copper.
“You’re okay though? They didn’t hurt you?”
She shook her head and gave me a smile.
“No.” There was a glimmer of a lie in her eyes,
exposed in the way her pupils dilated ever so
slightly, which concerned me. I was trained,
skilled enough to detect untruths. It was
instinctive in me, and I had learned over the
years to trust my gut feeling; it was what made
me a damn good officer. But, as before, if she
didn’t want to enlighten me on exactly what
happened today, then I couldn’t force her. I had a
feeling Vanessa Griffiths didn’t do anything she
didn’t want to – well, apart from play this insane
game. Neither of us had a choice in that.
“Can you pass me my laptop, please.”
She nodded and plonked herself down beside
me when I fired it up. I had to pray that the GM
expected my next move. I wouldn’t class it as
cheating, what I was about to do, and if my gut
was right and he was leaving us clues, he had to
envisage that I would do this.
Nessa leaned towards me and watched when
I logged into a veiled chatroom I used
sporadically and made a connection with
someone who had helped me out on a few
occasions.
Dicky -no surname- responded instantly, as I
anticipated. My source barely left his house, let
alone his bloody laptop.
Marsh84[Me]:Ineedafavour,mate
Dicky27:Fireaway
Marsh84:Ineedacryptographer.Lowkey
Dicky27:Ofcourse,andonit.Details
deliveredtotheusualIPaddress
“Marsh?” Nessa asked me with a frown when
I disconnected and brought up my covert email
programme.
“Fen. Marshland,” I answered, casting her a
glance. I was surprised to find a sad look on her
face, as though my username had brought up a
particular sorrowful memory.
Her natural rosy cheeks then paled, and she
held her hand to her mouth like she was trying
to stop herself from vomiting. “You okay?”
She blinked and slapped a fake smile on her
face before giving me a nod. However, when her
gaze found mine, there was something in the
way she looked at me that resembled what I
could only interpret as guilt.
Rising from the sofa beside me, she coughed,
clearing her throat. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a
headache coming on. Think I need a nap.”
Although I frowned in confusion, I nodded.
“Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?”
“Of course. As I said, just a headache.”
She knew I didn’t believe her, and from the
way her hands shook when I watched her walk
away, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know
whatever it was she was hiding from me. Nessa
had played the game with grit so far, nothing
had seemed to faze her. Except now. Now she
showed fear. And that couldn’t be a good sign.
Day 4
15:46
Nessa
“Fuck!”
I span around the room, my hands on my
head and my eyes narrowing on every corner I
could think of that would heal a concealed
spying device. “You clever, clever man.” Why the
hell I should be surprised was beyond me. “Noah
Marsh!” I hissed into the nothing. “Why hadn’t I
guessed it? You bastard!”
The blood that ran through my system
scorched my frozen veins and I slumped down
onto the bed in defeat. My heart was pounding
so furiously I was concerned I would go into
shock.
“Does Caelan know?” When only silence
answered me, I screamed. “ANSWER ME, DAMN
YOU!”
I jumped in shock when a faint ringing tone
ruptured the suppression of the quiet dread that
had slithered around me.
Using the sound for guidance, I scurried
across the room and pulled open a drawer in
one of the two chests that decorated the room. A
cheap mobile phone lit up the dark corner, and
moving away the few items of clothing, I
snatched it up and answered. I knew who it was.
He knew I would soon find out and he had
already anticipated his next move by planting
this phone before Caelan and I had even been
quarantined here.
“Out of both of you, I really thought it would
be Mr Fen who would underestimate my
intelligence, Nessa!”
“Does he know?” I asked. Fuck playing his
game! I needed answers, and quickly.
“Do you think he knows?”
I stopped short. Closing my eyes, I blew out a
breath and lowered back onto the bed. My hair
fell in front of my face when my head flopped in
resignation. “No.”
“No,” the GM replied. “You would know if he
did. There’s only you who has figured it out yet.”
“Why are you doing this? Why?”
His laugh was cold, and a sinister trickle of
liquid ice slid up my spine when he spoke. “Oh,
come now, Dr Griffiths, you and I both know that
the thrill of the chase, the pursuit of one’s prey,
long before the exhilaration of the kill, is the
best high known to man…”
I threw the phone across the room, relishing
in the smash when it hit the wall and broke to
pieces on the floor, cutting off what I knew his
next words would be.
“Fuck you, you cunt! You need to talk to me
again, buy a new damn phone!”
I couldn’t listen to him anymore. I knew one
more noxious word that spewed off his tongue
would send me spiralling into the realms of
insanity. Towards the dark chasm in my mind
that I kept locked away from everyone,
including myself.
Dropping back onto the bed, I placed my
hands over my face and let out a silent scream.
Yet, to my mind, it was ear-splitting, the
deafening sound of slowly and torturously being
annihilated, piece by fucking piece. My heart
thudded laboriously, the crush of my past
crippling it as it grew tired of being used.
Tears sprung to my eyes, and I quickly wiped
them away. I wouldn’t allow him to see my
hopelessness, from wherever the hell it was he
watched us from.
The Game Master had just placed a timer
above my own head. Except I couldn’t see the
minutes ticking by. I couldn’t watch the
countdown to my death. I didn’t know how long
I had before Caelan Fen destroyed me more than
the GM ever could.
Day 4
19:45
“Let’s go to the pub,” Caelan said as soon as I
walked into his kitchen.
“Are we allowed?”
He shrugged and picked up his keys. “I don’t
know, and I don’t care. I need to get drunk.”
Not having much choice, I grabbed my coat
and followed him out of the house that had
become our prison cell.
22:12
Caelan was drunk. So was I for that matter.
His face was becoming a little blurry, and I
embraced the numbness the effect of the alcohol
had on my mind. I needed a few hours of being a
nonentity. I didn’t want to think, or to worry. My
mind was as weary as my body.
In a way, it felt wrong, sat in a pub drinking
while our families were going through hell, but I
had resigned myself to the fact that even if
Caelan and I were sat on his sofa, thick with
worry, they would all still be tied to a chair,
fearing for their lives. We had both been
overthinking the clues, and the answer wouldn’t
come while we looked too hard. That much I did
know.
“I don’t know how you do it,” I remarked with
a slight slur as Caelan told me about a few of his
cases. “When you know they’re innocent, but
you still have to lock them up.”
He shrugged but twisted the corner of his
mouth. “It’s the jury that sends them down. Not
me. I only have my gut instinct to go on. If I had
evidence to substantiate their innocence, then
they’d walk. If a case is lacking proof and all
indications point to that individual, then it has to
go to court.”
“But surely your opinion matters.”
“Not always.”
I got his frustration, and if I was honest, the
law had more loopholes than a packet of
Cheerio’s, yet I still found it wrong.
As if he wanted to change the subject, he
abruptly asked, “Do you miss him?”
“If you’re talking about my husband, then yes,
of course I miss him.”
“How long were you married for?”
He watched me over the rim of his glass as he
took a drink. He was always watching, studying
everything I did or said. I supposed it was part of
his job, but I wasn’t sure I liked being scrutinised
so much.
“We were childhood sweethearts. He was
older than me by five years, and I fell in love
with him when I was a teenager.” So far nothing
I divulged could be delved deeper into, so I
allowed him his questioning. Hopefully it would
lead him on a different path than the one I didn’t
want to venture down.
“So, you met at school then?”
Shaking my head, I took a drink then placed
my glass back on the table before he noticed the
slight tremble of my hands. “No, he worked for
my father.”
Suddenly aware of the silence that had
developed in the busy pub, I frowned and looked
up.
“Shit!”
Frank was leaning on the bar, his massive
frame making the other drinkers look like
dwarves. He was watching me intently, and
when my eyes met his, he lifted a brow and
jerked his head towards the door, then pushed
off the bar and sauntered out.
Like he had sucked all the oxygen out of the
room when he had entered, the patrons once
again took a breath when he left. Frank was
notorious in every part of London, the whole of
Britain for that matter, and I could only imagine
the landlord’s relief when he walked back out
without shit kicking off.
“What’s going on?” Caelan asked when I
excused myself.
“Nothing,” I murmured as I knocked back the
last of my whisky. “I’ll be right back.”
I purposely kept my eyes from his. Caelan
had a skill of interpreting someone’s integrity
from their body language, and although I could
no longer hide the shake in my hands from him, I
was determined he wouldn’t see the lie through
my gaze.
The back door to Frank’s car was open,
awaiting me, and I climbed inside.
“Wanna tell me what’s going on, Missy!”
Frank barked as soon as I had pulled the door
closed. The windows were blacked out, yet the
darkness did nothing to shroud the formidable
form that took up half of the back seat beside
me.
“I can’t,” I stated, and held up a hand to stop
him when he opened his mouth to cut in. “But it
isn’t because I don’t want to. Just that, right now,
it endangers my life.”
“That cunt you’re drinking with endangers
your life, Ness. Do you know that?”
“I didn’t, but I do now.”
He blew out a breath, his frustration growing
more with every passing second. Narrowing his
eyes, he glared at me. “If he finds out who you
are…”
“He won’t. Not yet anyway.”
“And your promise?”
“As if I’m likely to forget!” I hissed out,
growing annoyed myself. “It will be upheld,
Frank. I made a promise, and you know me by
now. I won’t go back on it!”
Observing me for a moment, he eventually
relented and nodded his head. “Okay. I’ll give
you four weeks. No longer.”
“That’s enough time. Thank you.”
“Nah, don’t thank me, sweetheart. Just give
me what I want, and all’s good.”
I swallowed the lump that had formed. The
Game Master hadn’t a clue how much he had
changed my life, even after the game would end.
I had made a promise to Frank that I would
uphold. I had also made one to myself. I would
find this fucker if it was the last thing I did. And
then I would make him pay in the only way I
knew how. With a shit ton of pain!
Day 5
15:45
It was nearly dusk when the Game Master
finally decided Game Five was to begin. Caelan
and I had sat all day, both eager for and dreading
the moment when the iPad would light up.
When it did, I wasn’t remotely prepared for
the sheer horror this next game brought with it.
‘Go to Trinity House and the maze
within.
There you’ll find your sister Carolyn.
But be quick, Dr Griffiths, and ‘bee’ware
of game five,
because, as you know, Carolyn’s allergic
to the hive.’
Trepidation created from the riddle turned to
absolute terror when the words on the screen
changed to an image.
Carolyn sat on a chair, enclosed entirely
within a ventilated Perspex box. Above her head
was a beehive that was suspended from a chain
held by what appeared to be an electronic
locking device.
“No!” I could barely voice my fear with the
restriction in my throat. Rage mixed with panic
and I stood frozen with shock as I stared at the
image of my little sister’s tear-ridden face. I was
struggling to breathe, and my legs shook.
“Nessa!”
Caelan’s voice broke through the buzzing in
my ears, and I looked at him blankly. I couldn’t
seem to get a hold of myself. Absolute fright
made me deaf, dumb, and blind.
“I’m guessing by your reaction that Carolyn is
allergic to bees?”
I nodded.
“Come on!” he urged.
I stood frozen to the spot and turned towards
the sound of his voice. He was by the front door,
waiting for me. His coat and my medical bag
were in his hands, and the hard lines of his face
grew evermore rigid as time ticked by.
Growling under his breath, he took my hand
and physically made me move.
16:12
Trinity House loomed high and intimidating
when Caelan pulled the car into a parking space
in front of the opening for the gardens.
Appearing daunting as the sun set behind it, the
grand manor cast a shadow across the empty
carpark. I shivered with the chill that had settled
both inside and outside of me.
It wasn’t until my door opened that I realised
Caelan had exited the car.
“Nessa, you need to get a grip!”
He was right, but I couldn’t shake the fear
that had burrowed into the marrow of my bones.
In some ways, I wanted Carolyn to still be tied to
the chair with my mother by her side, and the
man in black hovering behind her with the
katana. Because it would be a far better death
for her than the suffering she would go through
with a simple bee sting!
I gasped when Caelan grabbed my wrist and
pulled me out of the car. “Get – a – fucking - grip.
If you want your sister to live, then you have to
bury the anxiety from your fear and use the
adrenaline from it!”
Squeezing my eyes closed, I hunted for that
little bubble in my veins, the flicker of fury that
my Denny had taught me to draw on. The wrath
and hatred that had cursed me since my
childhood had, countless times, been the only
weapon I had needed. Except, now, I didn’t need
ammunition, I needed strength. And hope.
Carolyn was relying on me. It was that
simple. And I couldn’t let her down.
When I felt the icy trickle of rage slither into
my heart, I blew out a steadying breath and
reopened my eyes.
Caelan frowned, as if I were a stranger he’d
only just met. He didn’t voice his confusion
though, luckily. He wanted the ruthless bitch,
well that’s who he got!
“Come on!” I shouted over my shoulder when
I dipped through the archway that led to the vast
gardens surrounding the manor house.
Trinity House was a stately home that opened
to the public throughout the year, and,
fortunately, I had walked through the gardens
on more than a few occasions, and now I knew
my way around blindfolded.
Tears stung my eyes when I ran past the large
fountain, and I blinked them away. Misery
would do no good now. My heart ached as
images of Denny, bent on one knee with a
sparkling diamond ring in his shaking hands,
forced their way into my mind. Although, I
smiled at the memory of him dancing in the
cascading water of the fountain after I had said
yes.
A thought tapped on my mind and pushed
away the visions. My footing stumbled, and my
breath caught in my throat as an icy shiver ran
over me, but Caelan caught up with me and
grabbed my hand. “Quickly, we only have fifty
minutes left!”
I’d have to deal with my thoughts later
because right now my sister needed me, and
time was running out.
Day 5
16:27
00:46
‘Tamper with the lock until the cogs
align,
for entry behind bars covered in twisted
vine.
There are lots and lots of different ways,
that lead you to the core of the maze.
Will you go left, or take the path to the
right,
and make it in time before the bees
take flight?’
Why had the bastard picked the very thing
Denny had been unable to teach me?
Lockpicking. It was as if he was punishing me for
my failures. My husband had grown impatient
with me and had given up trying after my
numerous disasters at opening the simplest of
locks. ‘Never make a safecracker, baby,’ he
would say with a frustrated shake of his head.
Not that I had ever really needed to crack a safe,
but now I wished I’d persevered and mastered
the art.
“Damn it!” I hissed out as I snatched up the
lockpick from where it hung on a little hook
beside the gate to the maze.
Caelan reminded me of my husband. His
many sighs of exasperation had been heard by
my ears too many times, and it just made my
attempts all the more unsuccessful. I was
becoming as frustrated as he was.
“Come on then, big guy. If you think you can
make better progress than me!” I barked at him
with a fierce glare.
Caelan calmly took the small tool from me
and sighed.
I gnashed my teeth together when after
around two minutes, the padlock clicked open.
Caelan gave me a smug grin as he pushed open
the gate and held out a hand, signalling for me to
go first.
“Used to be a criminal in your past life, huh?”
I remarked with a glower as I stepped through
the open gateway.
“Well, you obviously weren’t!”
Luckily my back was to him when my lips
tilted into a knowing smirk. “Oh, you have no
idea, Detective,” I whispered to myself.
My heart raced as I stood at the entrance of
the maze. Several times I had done battle with
this twisting pathway of hedgerow, and only
once had I conquered it.
“Today,” I said quietly, “I will beat you a
second time.” My voice held more conviction
than my heart, but once again I called upon the
strength I knew I kept deep inside me.
And I took a step forward.
00:38
Caelan passed me my medical bag, and I
dipped in and pulled out two prefilled EpiPen’s.
Handing him one, he slid it into his jacket pocket
and then gave me his pistol. “You know how to
fire?”
I nodded. “But what about you?”
“I’ll be fine. You need it more than me. The
magazine is full.”
I checked the safety was on and then slipped
it into the front of my waistband. “Okay. Thank
you.”
“It will be quicker if we split up. I’ll take the
left, you go right.”
I peered down the right-hand entrance, the
long, dark passageway hopefully not hiding any
surprises. Then again, we had to prepare for any
eventuality where the GM was concerned. Hence
the gun.
“Be careful, Nessa. And good luck. We’ll get to
her in time, I promise.”
I nodded, praying he was right, and then set
off running.
00:32
The high hedgerow isolated any light that
was left of the day, so grabbing my torch, I
flicked it on and illuminated my way forward.
“I won’t let you beat me, not today,” I said to
each corner I came across. But my enemy was
much smarter than me, and quite a few times I
found myself back at the beginning.
“God damn you! Please.”
I tore open my shirt, grateful that I was
wearing a vest underneath, then zipped my coat
back up when the cold winter night assaulted
my warm body. Collecting the buttons that
dropped to the floor I held them tight in my
hand.
At the next junction, the choice of left or right
ridiculing me, I stepped onto the left path and
placed a button on the floor. The next
intersection of pathways, I stepped right and
planted another button.
A few times I found myself back on the same
path, but where I had placed a button left, I went
right, and vice versa until I knew I was gaining
an advantage on the ruthless labyrinth.
Not once did I come across Caelan, and I
could only pray he had got to Carolyn before me.
00:17
Turning a corner, I stopped dead and
frowned when I heard a sound. Spinning around,
I tilted my head and listened harder. It sounded
like panting, extremely heavy panting. Caelan
wasn’t that unfit.
It grew louder. The blood in my veins turned
to icy terror, and my heart beat stuttered when
the panting ceased, and a long, feral growl took
its place.
“Fuck!” I heard Caelan shout before heavy
footsteps rebounded along what seemed to be
the adjacent path to me.
“Oh, shit!” I murmured as I pulled out the gun
and set off into a sprint.
Day 5
16:58
Caelan
00:15
The beast was hungry, I could tell that much.
Although, I could have been mistaken, and he
was totally attracted to me in a romantic way.
My chest was tight, and my lungs burned
from the limited amount of oxygen I was able to
draw in between each heavy pant.
Another corner, another never-ending
passage.
Luckily, I had managed to keep hold of the
torch; I’d have definitely been fucked otherwise.
“Caelan?” I heard Nessa shout, but I couldn’t
see her.
I didn’t have enough breath to return her call,
so instead, I raised the beam of my torch a little,
praying that she would catch sight of it.
The dog – scrap that, it was a bloody wolf! –
Was gaining on me. I could almost smell its
rancid breath in the air around me, taste its
appetite for blood on the tip of my tongue.
Another corner. Another dark pathway that
appeared to go on for miles.
Why wouldn’t the fucker slow down? He was
insatiable. The sound of it pushing itself closer to
me had the muscles in my legs burning with the
strain of powering on.
“Caelan?” Her voice was closer, and this time
I caught sight of her torchlight at the end of the
pathway.
I swung my light upwards, trying to get her
attention. It was a stupid thing to do.
Unable to see directly in front of me when a
large tree towered overhead, killing what little
natural light there was, my foot stubbed a
gnarled tree root, and I stumbled. Dropping my
torch, I slammed my hands onto the gravel to
stop my forehead finding the ground first. The
pain in my shoulder from the gunshot wound
took my breath and I cried out.
The sound of low snarling made me freeze,
and extremely slowly, I rolled onto my back. The
dog had stopped just in front of me. It was sizing
me up, crouching low to the ground, making
sure I offered no threat. Saliva dangled from its
jaws when it bared its impressive teeth, and the
glint of delight in its eyes had me sagging in
defeat. There was no way I would be able to
fight the thing off. It knew it too.
Then it pounced.
In the split-second it took to leap off its hind
legs, my life flashed before my eyes once again.
An ear-splitting pop engulfed the silence
before it yelped and dropped to the ground by
my side. A circular cavity in the middle of its
forehead provided an outlet for its blood to
drain away and pool on the ground beside me.
I gawped wide-eyed at the perfectly sited
bullet hole bang central between its eyes.
“How the fuck?” I stuttered as I scrambled to
my feet. Staring at Nessa who was bent double
trying to settle her raging breaths, I shook my
head in disbelief. “How the hell did you hit a
moving target with that much precision?” My
breathing was as ragged as hers, my voice a
mere squeak with the pressure on my lungs.
“He knew,” she mumbled quietly. “He banked
on me being an expert shooter! Fuck!” She stood
up and looked to the sky. “Fuck you! Always one
step ahead, huh. You bastard!”
“What?”
She gazed up at me as if she’d only just
realised I was there and shook her head. “We
need to move.”
“Nessa!”
“Not now, Caelan! We need to get to
Carolyn!”
“Later!” I pointed a finger at her.
However, she merely rolled her eyes and
picked up my torch. “Whatever.”
She didn’t wait for my reply, and about
turned and set off into a run.
00:08
‘With the rich I am blue.
With the poor I am red.
With the amphibian I am cold,
But with the dog I am hot instead.
What am I?’
“What the hell?”
Carolyn’s terror was evident when we finally
reached the centre of the maze. She frantically
looked up at the presently quiet beehive. I
prayed they would remain subdued.
“I won’t let them hurt you, baby,” Nessa
promised her as she placed her palms flat onto
the plastic prison. “I promise.”
“Gimme a hand, Nessa!” I urged as I reread
the riddle.
The iPad lit up and a keyboard appeared, this
time a word needed to halt the countdown
instead of the usual numerical answer.
Nessa, seemingly getting a grip on her
emotions, nodded, and focused on the riddle.
“That doesn’t make any sense!” She scowled
hard, annoyance getting the better of her as she
read it out loud, repeatedly.
00:04
“God damn it!” She yanked at her hair.
“Money?” I guessed as I typed it into the
keypad.
“What does hot money have to do with dogs?”
Nessa grumbled at me.
“I don’t know! I’m just trying here!”
00:02
The line reset, indicating it was the wrong
answer.
Carolyn was staring at us with wide eyes,
scared and anxious, but just as the timer clicked
to one minute she shouted, “Blood!”
Both Nessa and I stared at her in stunned
surprise.
“Blood!” she repeated with a frantic nod of
her head. “Please, try it!”
“Of course!”
00:01
My hands shook as I typed in the word. The
timer froze, and I caught Nessa when her legs
gave way.
“It’s okay,” I breathed in her ear when she
clung to me and sobbed. “She’s safe.”
I looked at Carolyn and smiled. “Clever girl!”
She was sobbing herself, relief taking over
her emotions, but she managed a smile and
nodded.
“Well done,” the GM spoke through the iPad.
“Now, you may leave. Your sister will be cared
for, Dr Griffiths.”
“Please,” Nessa begged as she took the iPad
from me. “Please, let me hold her.”
“You may leave now.”
“Just a minute. Please!”
Her urgent pleas made my chest tight and I
slipped an arm around her shoulder. “Come on,
babe.”
Nessa shrugged me off and went to Carolyn.
Resting her forehead on the glass, she blew her
sister a kiss. “I love you, baby. I’ll see you soon.
Okay?”
I narrowed my eyes when I heard her faintly
whispering something. Carolyn’s eyes dropped
to Nessa’s mouth before she lowered them,
downcast, and shook her head.
“Come on, before we piss him off. The sooner
she’s out of that thing, the better.”
Realising I was right, Nessa finally nodded
and placed her fingers to her mouth before
blowing a final kiss to her sister.
“I love you, Ness!” Carolyn sobbed as I guided
her sister away. “Save Mum, please.”
“I will!” Nessa promised with a firm nod of
her head. “I promise.”
And on shaky legs, we both left Carolyn
behind.
Day 5
19:35
Nessa was quiet as she prepared some
supper. I left her to her thoughts as I sat quietly
on the chair watching her cook. Something was
troubling her, yet I doubted she would open up
to me. However, as was the case with Dr
Vanessa Griffiths, she surprised me at every
turn.
Placing a plate of chicken and rice on the
table in front of me, she sat down and stared at
her portion for a long time before she looked up
at me and frowned. “He knows too much,
Caelan.”
Swallowing the piece of chicken that I had
been chewing, I took a sip of beer and
contemplated her statement. “About you?”
She nodded, worrying her bottom lip
between her teeth. “Yeah.”
“Such as?”
Leaning back in her chair, giving up on her
food, she decided alcohol was to be her fuel for
the night and drained her glass of wine before
topping it up from the bottle. “Why do you think
he chose Trinity House?”
Giving her my full attention, I placed down
my fork and regarded her. “I take it by your
reaction it has some significance to you.”
We both watched as she swirled her wine
around in her glass for a while. Appearing to be
struggling as to why she was questioning the
Game Master’s choice of venue, she sighed but
allowed me into her head a little. “My husband
proposed to me at the central fountain.”
“It could be purely coincidental, babe.”
“No.” Her firm gaze fixed on me as she leaned
forward and rested her elbows on the table. “He
knew I was an expert marksman. He also knew I
was shit with a lockpick.”
The hairs on the nape of my neck prickled as
she drew my attention.
“Are you telling me that all those factors are
just coincidence? No. Impossible, Caelan.” She
drained her glass and refilled once more. “There
are… other things that I can’t discuss yet, but he
knows.”
“And how much of this information on you is
restricted to just you?”
“Well,” she scoffed. “Obviously not private
enough.”
Standing up, I walked over to the cupboard
and retrieved a bottle of Jack – yes, another one.
Pouring us both a drink, I handed her one and
clicked my tongue in thought. “Okay, let’s look at
the facts. Your husband’s proposal, that’s a
simple one. Maybe the GM was visiting Trinity
House that day.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, come on.”
“It is plausible, Ness.”
“And my skill with a firearm?”
“Maybe that’s it. Maybe you shot someone
close to him, and now he’s seeking his revenge.”
Taking a cigarette from the pack on the table,
she lit it and blew out the smoke slowly.
“Maybe.”
“And, besides, it was me who should have had
the gun. Maybe this is on me.”
Opening the kitchen door, she shivered when
the cold air hit her bare arms. Taking another
drag, she blew the smoke into the dark night.
“The cemetery.” Her body shuddered as she
looked up to the black sky. “My husband is
buried there.”
“So is Noah, my brother.”
She nodded but didn’t look at me.
“So okay, we’re following this train of
thought. That each game is personal to you.
How, then, is the kidney connected to you?”
Sighing, exasperated, she turned to me and
rested her back on the door frame. “I’m a doctor.
I’ve done several transplants.”
Nodding, I got up and walked over to her.
Taking the cigarette from her fingers, I drew on
it and welcomed the hit of nicotine. “Are there
any patients that didn’t survive the operation?”
She shook her head. “No. Not under my knife,
anyway.”
“And the water puzzle?”
She sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know.
I can’t figure that one out either.”
Her troubled gaze softened when I slid an
unruly strand of hair behind her ear. Her skin
was soft and cool under my touch, and although
her eyes shimmered with sadness and
exhaustion, she smiled softly and nestled her
cheek into my palm. I didn’t look too deep into
her reaction at my caress, she was hurting and
needed contact from another human being.
“I think you’re just looking too hard, babe,” I
said softly. “Believe me, I’ve done it too. But until
we get all eight codes, I know he won’t allow us
to figure it out. We’re playing a game he’s set the
rules by. He’s a clever man, a calculated bastard,
and he won’t give you his identity until he’s
ready.”
Relenting, she nodded and took the cigarette
back from me. Blowing the smoke out of the
door, she handed it to me, then picked up the
bottle of wine and her glass. “If you don’t mind,
I’m gonna have a bath and then turn in.”
“Sure.”
She held my gaze for a short moment before
smiling and heading out of the door.
Sitting at the table, I fired up the laptop and
checked my emails. Although Nessa and I
weren’t permitted to have contact with anyone
personal to us, that didn’t mean I couldn’t do a
bit of what I did best. Investigating.
Day 6
13:15
Nessa
Caelan looked at me with what I can only
describe as a mix of puppy dog pleading eyes
and a fierce ‘I’m going to kill you slowly’ glare.
“Seriously, babe?” he growled quietly through
clenched teeth. “You can’t leave me… with these
nice gentlemen.”
Looking at the floor to hide my amusement, I
rolled my tongue against the back of my teeth
and blew out a quiet breath before facing him
again. “I’ve made them promise that they won’t
hurt you, baby. Be a big brave boy.”
Widening his eyes, sceptical of my assurance,
Caelan scoffed and then looked to his left where
a grizzly Taylor Williamson towered above him
with a glare that could scare even the most
powerful of men. Standing to Caelan’s right was
Dennis Green, AKA Scar Face. His nickname,
assigned because of the long deep scar that ran
down the left side of his face, had always tickled
me, so original – not! But Dennis wasn’t known
for his intellect, only his brawn, and that’s why
he was one of Frank’s most menacing heavies.
Dennis was also notorious for his penchant for
Chinese torture techniques.
“I still don’t understand why you had to bring
me along?” Caelan grumbled as he took the
bottle of San Miguel he’d ordered and drank half
the contents in a single swig.
“Because,” I spoke low so not to be
overheard. “If the GM decides game six is on,
then we need to be together. We can’t afford to
waste precious minutes finding a meeting
point.”
Sighing, he lit a cigarette and pulled a half-
full ashtray towards him. The King and County
didn’t follow any smoking laws – gangsters
made their own rules, and although Caelan was
a law enforcer, even he wasn’t so stupid as to
pick a fight with these guys over an anti-
smoking policy. Plus, I supposed he was grateful
for their disregard for the law when he drew in a
long drag of nicotine and blew out the calming
smoke. “I guess so,” he said, agreeing with a nod.
Feeling bad, I pulled a ten-pound note from
my purse and handed it to the barman. “Get him
a double Jack, no ice.”
When Caelan was about to argue that maybe
he would need to drive for the next game, I
shook my head. “I’m insured for any car. I’ll
drive.” Giving him a smile, I reached up and
placed a quick kiss on his cheek. I wasn’t even
sure why I did it, but it seemed instinctive. “I’m
sorry, Caelan. Frank said it was urgent, and to be
honest, we need him onside right now. We have
enough enemies. If it weren’t important, I
wouldn’t be here either.”
“Go. Go.” He waved me off, and I made my
way towards the back of the pub where Frank
waited for me. I couldn’t help but snort when I
heard Caelan say, “So, either of you guys know
how to play dominoes?” Although I’d given
Caelan my word that Taylor or Dennis, his
‘company’ while I dealt with Frank, wouldn’t
touch him, I wasn’t so sure Caelan’s sarcasm
would be appreciated by London’s most
formidable men.
“Ness!” Frank smiled and pulled out a chair
for me, tucking it under as I sat down.
The old tap room of the pub had been
converted into Frank’s own personal ‘office’.
Many decisions were made in this room, and as I
sat at the large round table, a shiver made its
way around my body.
“Still hard, eh?” he asked softly.
“Hmm, a little.”
He reached behind him and opened a drawer.
Taking a rolled joint, he lit it and took a hard
draw before offering it to me.
Shaking my head but thanking him, he
nodded and leaned back into his chair. Peering
at me to gauge my reaction, he announced, “He
wants to see you.”
Closing my eyes in dismay, I clicked my
tongue and slumped back into my chair. “I told
you. No.”
“This isn’t going to work otherwise, Ness. It
has to be part of the deal.”
“No. Our deal is between us, Frank. Whatever
association you have with him after that is your
choice.”
“You think I’ll get what I want if you won’t
speak to him? We both know he won’t accept
this if he doesn’t get you back.”
My mouth was so dry I was struggling to form
words. As if Frank was aware, he got up from his
chair and walked over to the side where he
picked up a bottle of vodka and poured us both a
shot.
“As much as you deny it, Missy, it, he, is
always going to be there. You can’t erase blood.”
Blood.
My heartbeat quickened, and with a shaky
hand I lifted the glass to my mouth and downed
the contents. I wasn’t going to accept, knowing I
would probably be driving later, but I figured
one wouldn’t take me over the limit, even if
Frank’s portions were a little on the large size.
“You okay?” Frank asked when he noticed my
hands trembling.
I nodded, unable to answer him verbally as
the alcohol heated my chest.
“Look.” He regarded me as he ran his thumb
over his lips. “I have no idea what the hell is
going on with you… and the pig currently
drinking at my bar. But you know, I’m here. I
have your back, Ness. Always have, always will.”
I smiled, appreciating his concern. “I don’t
even know what the hell is going on either, to be
honest, Frank. But thank you.”
He shrugged when I didn’t confide in him
further, and I stood up. “I have to go.”
He nodded and grabbed a pen and a slip of
paper. Scribbling something down, he folded the
paper over and then passed it to me.
Opening it up, my stomach sank, and regret
soared when I read the words.
“I trust you, Ness, but that doesn’t mean I’m a
stupid cunt. Make sure you’re there.”
Anger flared, and I narrowed my eyes. “You
know me better than that, Frank. If I make a
promise, then I keep it. You of all people should
know that!”
Quirking an eyebrow at my tone, he,
thankfully, decided to overlook my rudeness. “I
know you’re under a great deal of stress, and
because we go way back, I’ll ignore your lack of
respect. This time. You don’t have many
concessions left, though. So I suggest you tread
carefully.”
I didn’t need Frank as an enemy, at least not
until I’d finished playing this stupid game, so I
nodded and allowed him his win. For now.
Caelan looked pale when Frank and I
returned to the bar area. The atmosphere was
thick with testosterone, and I rubbed my
temples as I felt a headache fester in the depths
of my skull. Fucking men and their need to show
who was bigger and better. I could have taken
Frank on in that back room, and he knew it too,
but sometimes it took more strength to step
back and allow the rain to pass without
summoning a storm.
Jumping up when he saw me, Caelan grabbed
his coat from the back of the chair and hurried
to the front door. “I swear if you had been much
longer, Taylor’s blood would have been
redecorating the upholstery.”
Frank smirked at me when I rolled my eyes,
but as he leaned into to me to place a kiss to my
cheek, he whispered, “Make contact with him,
Nessa. For both our sakes. I want him there.”
For a moment I forgot about games and the
crazy man forcing us to play. I even forgot the
fact that my family would only live if Caelan and
I solved a string of silly riddles, or that in four
weeks my life would change forever. Because
the prospect of seeing him again after so long
scared me more than Frank and the Game
Master put together ever could.
Day 6
16:10
Caelan
‘Start game six, perhaps we should
because it’s deep within Brackley
Wood.
The light of a fire will be your only guide
to where the next clue does reside.
There you’ll find directives for the spot
you’ll need to take aim for the perfect
shot.’
I glanced to Nessa. Maybe she was right after
all, and this prick did know too much. He’d
trusted Nessa to take out the dog, and he was
now bringing her proficiency with a gun into the
game that would save Jenny, my ex-wife.
“Jesus,” Nessa breathed out when her eyes
dropped back to the iPad.
Jenny was sat on a chair in the middle of a
shabby room. Around her neck was a noose. The
rope extended upwards, through a metal hoop
on the ceiling and down to a platform where it
was attached to a weight. Sitting next to the
weight was a small electronic timer.
2:00
“So, basically, in two hours, the platform will
fall, and Jenny will be hung.” It was evident how
it worked, and I don’t know why I felt the need
to explain it to Nessa.
“And I’ll have seconds to sever the rope with
a bullet,” Nessa finished for me in a quiet voice.
She had paled, and her teeth were gnawing on
her lower lip as though she was deep in thought.
Or worse, worried. I knew the burden of Jenny’s
life was more in her hands than mine, and for
some reason that angered me.
“But this is my game. How come it all falls on
you?”
“You can’t look at it like that. Look at the
cemetery. It was your muscle that dug up that
grave. Not mine. We’re in this together. And just
because she’s your family, that doesn’t mean I
will be any less determined to win this one.”
Although I had only known Nessa for six days,
I knew, without a doubt, that she meant every
word. That she would fight for my family as she
did her own.
“We better move,” she uttered as she grabbed
her coat. “We have to make a detour to mine,
and the clock is ticking.”
“Why yours?” I asked as I followed her out
and threw her the car keys.
“Because me and Jenny will need a friend of
mine.”
16:25
I stared wide eyed and open mouthed when
Nessa climbed back into the car and threw the
rifle she had exited her house casually holding
onto the back seat.
“Umm. Please tell me you have a license for
that.”
Slowly, she turned her head to face me.
Quirking an eyebrow, she smirked. “Of course I
have, officer.”
Casting another glance at the firearm taking
up most of my back seat when Nessa clipped in
her seatbelt and started the engine, I found
myself with no words.
“Look,” she stated quietly as she pulled off
her drive and back into the traffic. “If I only get
one shot at this, I need a rifle with a calibre I am
familiarised with. I have no doubt the GM will
provide one, but I get one shot to save your ex-
wife, Detective Inspector Fen, and I need to trust
my aim.”
“Okay,” I clicked my tongue and looked out of
the side window, so I couldn’t see the lie in her
eyes when she answered my next question. “I’m
presuming it’s an air rifle?”
“As in BB? Sure it is… We’ll just go with that.
Although I’m quite certain a BB bullet isn’t going
to sever a rope thick enough to suspend a dead
body from.” Her small chuckle had me sighing
loudly. I really didn’t want to know why a doctor
would have her own rifle, but I’d swallow it if it
meant she would save Jenny’s life.
17:32
00:38
“Fuck!”
Helping Nessa up for the fourth time since
we’d entered the dense, unforgiving woods, I
shone the torchlight down so she could rub the
fresh bruise on her shin.
“Fucking trees! I swear, if we survive this, I’m
chopping down every bastard tree in my back
garden! I never, in all my life, want to see
another one!”
“We must be near now,” I stated, looking
around for the promised light of a fire. Nothing
but blackness flashed back at me, and my
stomach sank that little bit more. My breath
misted in front of my face as I spun in a circle,
the chill in the air as cold as the marrow in my
bones.
“We could be going all fucking night at this
rate,” Nessa grumbled as she hoisted the rifle
over her shoulder and righted herself. “Surely
we should have found the spot by now! You
think he’s playing with us? Well, apart from the
usual…”
Nessa flinched when I slapped my hand over
her mouth to stop her loud rambling. “Shh.”
Just as she was about to argue, the same noise
I had heard a moment ago also caught her
attention. I gawped at her when she pulled a
Glock out of the back of her waistband and
clicked off the safety. “What the hell? Another?”
“Another air pistol,” she whispered with a
wink before she manoeuvred around me and
pressed her back to mine. Slowly we turned in a
circle, scoping the shadows for any sign of
movement.
“Oh, shit!” Nessa exclaimed quietly when a
low growl came from the undergrowth to the
right of us. “What is it with this guy and dogs?”
We both took a step back, guns outstretched
in our hands when another louder snarl had the
hairs on the back of my neck springing to
attention.
“That’s no dog.”
Nessa stood rooted to the spot when my
words sank in. “Oh, for Christ’s sake. Please, tell
me you’re wrong, and that most definitely is
another rottweiler!”
“Okay then, it’s as much dog as your bullets
are pellets,” I whispered as we retreated further.
“And I’m hoping your aim is as hot with badgers
as it is with dogs!”
“And yours,” she replied, spinning around
when a replica growl came from the bushes
behind us. “Because his wife has decided to join
him for supper.”
Why the hell did we have shit luck, all – the –
damn - time?
“We don’t have time for this!” I uttered
angrily, as I kept my aim directly in front of me,
and Nessa targeted the area behind me.
“So, we need to take them both out first shot!
You any good?” she asked, her voice tinged with
both caution and hope.
“We’ll soon find out!” I stated when the
predators charged at their prey.
Day 6
17:37
00:33
I fired once. Nessa shot twice.
“Jesus, they’re fast!” she huffed out as she
turned to check on me. Her eyes widened when
she saw how close I had been to the animal
tearing my leg off with its insanely huge teeth.
The black and white beast lay roughly a foot
away from me. I was proud it had only taken me
one shot when Miss Crack Shot of The Year had
needed two. That was until I turned around and
saw how far away her kill was. Both of them.
“Who the hell taught you to shoot?”
She didn’t answer me, and flicking the safety
back on, she returned her gun to the back of her
jeans and stepped over the carcass of my prey.
“Nice shot,” she remarked when she caught sight
of the bullet hole between its eyes.
“Thank you.” I grinned proudly. I felt like I’d
gotten an A+ in a Carol Vorderman math class.
“I’d pay homage, oh great one.” She smirked,
glancing at me over her shoulder. “But we need
to get moving before Grandpa Badger decides to
come looking for his family and you nearly lose
a leg again.”
“That’s right,” I muttered, “Allow a man his
dream before you take away all his dignity!”
She chuckled. “Bit like being promised the
most amazing blowjob of your life by a piranha,
eh? Dream or dignity? Not sure which you’d go
for, CraigHarrison!”
“Who?”
She laughed and again refused to answer my
question.
I did return her smug smirk though when she
tripped for the fifth time, and I stepped over her.
00:09
“Thank fuck!”
We both broke into a run when up ahead a
faint orange glow became a beacon through the
thickness of the trees. The lump that had been
forming in my throat became that little bit less,
although the beat of my heart became that little
bit crazier when we broke through the trees into
a clearing.
00:06
Nessa tore off the note that was taped to a
rifle. I didn’t fail to notice how her hands shook
when she picked up the compass that sat beside
it.
We were doomed. Or, more accurately, Jenny
was.
‘Facing east on an X that marks the
spot,
you must stand and take your only shot.
72˚ North, by 48˚ West,
Dr Griffiths, it’s time to shoot your best.
With a steady hand and a careful eye,
Will Mrs Fen live, or will she die?’
“That’s all the damn coordinates I get?” Nessa
fumed as she lifted the rifle off her shoulder and
looked around for the conventional X.
The clock was ticking, and I had to bite my
tongue at the amount of time she was taking to
sort her shit out. I remained quiet, listening to
her ramble to herself as she fought to find the
focus she needed to do this.
Finding the marker on the ground, she
checked which way she needed to face, and
turned slightly right.
00:03
Blowing out a long breath, she closed her
eyes.
I watched her shoulders relax when she
finally found her equilibrium and focussed.
Glancing down, I checked the time.
00:02
“Come on, Ness!” I whispered under my
breath as my heartbeat paused.
Pressing the scope to her eye, her eyelids
flickered open. Muttering numbers quietly, she
directed the gun upwards, and then to the left,
deviating back and forth a little as she mumbled
a few swear words.
I knew she’d found Jenny when she, at long
last, levelled her aim and her finger slid over the
trigger.
00:01
Time felt like it stopped alongside my heart.
My stomach was gradually climbing up my
throat, although I daren’t swallow it back down
in case the noise put Nessa off her intense
concentration.
My body jerked when the gunshot echoed
around the woods, sending the wildlife
scurrying for their lives.
Daring to hope, I lowered my eyes to the
iPad.
Jenny sat with tears streaking her pretty face,
and an excess length of rope swung redundantly
between her legs.
Nessa dropped to her knees, the rifle
abandoned by her side, as the faint smell of
smoke drifted up my nostrils.
“You fucking did it!” I breathed out with a
shaky voice.
“Craig Harrison, time to take retirement!”
Was all she said, before she leaned back on her
hands, faced the sky, and screamed.
And I made a mental note to Google this
damn Craig Harrison!
Day 6
21.45
Nessa
“7248,” I relayed the instructed degrees I had
been given to Caelan. He wrote the numbers
down alongside all the others, and we both took
a moment to allow the digits to sink in.
“Well, so far we have, 729, 11520, 0214349,
143, 7248, and the word blood. The
cryptographer I contacted assures me they
aren’t numerical codes, or coding of any sort, so
there’s no hidden message in them. Plus, there’s
no sequence to them, they appear to be
completely random.”
“We’re missing something. We have to be!”
An email alert popped up in the bottom
righthand corner of Caelan’s laptop screen.
Clicking on it, he opened the attachment. I
leaned closer to see when the CCTV footage of
Lawrence’s Bar that Caelan had requested began
to play. My medical skills had come in useful
once or twice during these six days of hell, and
now I was grateful Caelan had easy access
obtaining video footage that might help us
discover the identity of whoever was doing this
to us.
Caelan pointed at the screen when the
camera caught an image of me dancing with a
couple of my friends. It didn’t remain on me for
long, however, but within minutes Caelan
spotted himself stood at the bar talking to a
woman. Once or twice, as the images revealed
us speaking to random people we didn’t know or
did know, for that matter, Caelan would still the
video, enlarge it, and save each picture.
“There!” I exclaimed when the footage
showed me stood at the bar talking to a man to
my left. Another man, allinblack, was sat
directly to my right on a barstool. His face was
down, only the back of his head visible to us, as
he sat stirring his drink with a small cocktail
stick. The hairs on my neck prickled and my
breath caught with hope in my throat.
Instantly, Caelan rewound the film, then
slowed the playback down, and we watched in
silence. The man to my left leaned into me and
whispered something in my ear, making me
laugh.
“Do you recognise him?”
I shook my head. “No, but I’m more interested
in the man to my right.”
“Bingo!” Caelan announced when the man in
black took my distraction as an opportunity to
quickly slip something into my drink that sat on
the bar in front of me.
Checking through each of the different angles
of the club which the cameras covered, we both
grew frustrated when every single image of the
man in black showed him from behind. It was
like he purposely turned his back and looked
down in each of the zones.
“Well, as usual, he’s done his homework,”
Caelan groaned when we ran out of footage.
“It must have taken him months of planning
to learn every angle each camera covers with
that much precision.”
“And you don’t know the guy who was
distracting you?”
I shook my head, watching when Caelan
skipped the recording back to where I’d had my
drink spiked. “No. I don’t recall him, to be
honest.”
Caelan enlarged the image and took another
still, adding the new photograph to the file he’d
created to store the pictures. “I’ll see if I can get
my tech guy to sharpen the images.”
Leaving him searching through more footage,
I went into the kitchen to fix us both a drink.
Grabbing the open bottle of Jack, I poured us
both a hefty portion and opened the freezer for
the ice. The cubes clinked against the cut glass
when I slammed the freezer door shut with my
shoulder and turned around.
A scream burst from me, and the whisky
splattered my bare legs when I dropped both
glasses and they shattered on the ceramic tiles.
Her glare was as fierce as the look of disgust
that curled her lip. She stood, by the open back
door, with her hands on her hips, observing me.
The kitchen door flew open and Caelan burst
in, gun outstretched in front of him.
“Fuck!” the woman cried as she stumbled
backwards and held up her hands.
“Jesus, Mindy!” Caelan huffed out as he
lowered his gun and put the safety back on.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Who is she?” She pointed a long finger at me,
stabbing the air with her perfectly manicured
red nail.
“A friend!” Caelan returned her scowl with a
quirk of an eyebrow. “I asked what you’re doing
here!”
“You haven’t returned any of my calls.”
“I lost my phone.”
“I’ve been ringing you for over a week now!”
The glower of anger in her eyes turned to hurt,
and I grimaced.
“Listen… I’ll…” I pointed to the door and
hurried across the kitchen.
“Shit,” Caelan declared. “You’re bleeding!”
I looked down and watched the small trickle
of blood ooze from a cut in my shin. Only
wearing short pyjamas, the small gash merely
added yet more colour to my bruised legs. “Just
superficial. I’ll sort it.”
“Sit,” he ordered, pulling out a chair.
“Caelan…”
“Sit – the – fuck – down, Ness!”
Rolling my eyes and blowing out a frustrated
breath, I lowered myself onto the chair.
“You can go now, Mindy!” he snapped as he
grabbed some tweezers from a drawer and the
roll of kitchen paper from the counter.
“Just a friend?” Mindy uttered through
clenched teeth as Caelan dropped to a crouch in
front of me. “She’s in her pyjamas, Caelan!”
Slowly, he moved his gaze up my body, and
then looked to Mindy. He stared at her for a long
moment, before he said, “So she is. I’m actually
stumped how you failed your sergeant's exam.”
“Fuck you!”
I jumped when the door slammed behind her.
The silence around us was thick, and I sat
looking over Caelan’s head as he carefully took
the shards of glass out of my leg and then
proceeded to delicately swipe at the wound with
a piece of kitchen roll.
“Don’t!” he advised when I opened my mouth
to say something.
“What?”
“You,” he huffed. “You can’t resist.”
“Nuh-uh,” I muttered with a shake of my
head. “Saying nothing.”
“Make’s a change!”
I glowered down at him as he applied a
plaster over the clean wound. “Although, you
were really mean!”
He sighed and stood up. “I rest my case!”
Day 7
08:37
Caelan caught me looking – or should that be
glaring - at him over the rim of my coffee cup for
the third time and sighed. Folding his
newspaper, he placed it on the table by his plate
of toast and turned his gaze to me. “I have no
doubt this house is rigged tighter than
Lawrence’s Bar is. The GM won’t leave any
corner uncovered here.”
He didn’t say anything else, and I shrugged,
waiting for him to go on. Waiting for an
explanation as to why he was so unkind to a
woman who obviously cared a great deal about
him.
Steadily, he clicked his tongue and lifted an
eyebrow as if I should understand what he was
trying to tell me without words.
“Mindy is just someone I slept with once.” His
eyebrow lifted higher. “She’s of no importance
to me, or to my life, Nessa.”
“Oh. I see,” I said, finally cottoning on. “No
one worth taking seconds of, then?”
He smiled and gave me a sneaky wink.
“Absolutely not. Wasn’t any good either. Too
selfish.”
I wasn’t sure why his cruelness to Mindy
yesterday had been playing on my mind all
night. It was of no concern of mine how he
treated women. However, if I was honest with
myself, I had been both disappointed with him,
and a little jealous of her. Mindy was everything
I wasn’t. Tall and slender, with lustrous blonde
hair that fell over sculptured shoulders and
rested at her trim waist.
Now his attitude towards her made sense. He
was informing the Game Master that she wasn’t
anyone significant so that he wouldn’t drag her
into this shitstorm. So, did that make her
important to him? I wasn’t sure I liked the faint
sinking feeling inside my belly with that thought.
Drinking the last of my coffee, I placed my
cup in the sink. “I’m going to shower and dress,
just in case it’s an early one today.”
Caelan glanced at the iPad again and nodded.
“Nothing yet. I’ll come and grab you if anything
comes through.”
I took each step upstairs slowly, extending
the time between then and dialling the eleven
numbers I knew off by heart but had never
called. I didn’t want to ever hear his voice again.
Except, I knew I had no option. Had the GM
anticipated this? Did he realise the end of the
game would be the beginning of my downfall?
Blood.
I froze on the sixth step. My heart pumped so
hard I was cautious of having a stroke.
“No.”
Blood.
An icy shiver raced over me, and I clung on to
the stair rail to support myself.
Although the numbers still stumped me and
made no sense, the one word we had been given
scared the living daylights out of me.
Blood.
“Surely not. It can’t be.”
I raced up the remaining stairs and slammed
the bedroom door behind me. Opening the
middle drawer, I ferreted through some clothes
and pulled out the cheap mobile phone I’d
picked up from the store. I was surprised the GM
hadn’t removed it, he would know it was there.
Did that mean, yet again, he was one step ahead
of me?
My hands trembled as much as my bones as I
tried several times to insert the SIM. My skin felt
clammy, and I wiped my brow with the back of
my hand.
Locking myself in the bathroom, I turned the
shower to full. Stripping off, I stepped into the
cubicle, careful to keep the phone away from the
jet of water battering the tiles. I needed the
noise of the shower to cloak the conversation.
I dialled those eleven numbers. It felt like I
was calling the devil himself, a direct line
through to the pits of hell.
Satan’s mule answered after the third ring.
“It’s me. Put him on.”
“Vanessa?”
“Put him on. Now.”
Nausea bubbled in my gut as I waited for
what seemed like forever, and I blew out a
breath to calm myself.
The sound of his gruff voice sent a shiver
through my bones. “Vanessa? My Vanessa?” If I
didn’t know better, the small catch in his breath
after he’d spoken my name for the first time in
several years, I’d have thought it laced with
emotion. Except this man didn’t possess feelings.
“You seriously think that I wouldn’t find out!
You bastard! You killed Stuart! You have put
Carolyn and Sam, even my mother, through the
worst nightmare of their lives…”
“I am unsure as…”
I laughed with a cold bitterness. “You really
know how to get my attention, don’t you? You
think this is funny? You knew I would have to go
to Frank!” I couldn’t stop the hatred pouring
from me. I’d kept it contained for far too long,
and now it had liberation it was spewing from
me like I had a sickness. Ridding all the hurt and
anger in an exorcism I had needed for a very
long time. “In fact, you manipulated it, played
me. You knew what he would want. Didn’t you?
Then you’d get what you always wanted! I knew
there was something seriously wrong with you,
but shit, you’re sicker than I thought! But, okay,
you win. You – fucking – win!”
“Vanessa!”
Tears flooded from me, adrenaline and hurt,
and distress and anger making me feel light-
headed as years of what had been left unsaid
cascaded from me in a waterfall of emotion.
“Is this your way of telling me I will never be
rid of you? Is it? Maybe a letter would have
sufficed!”
“Will you stop!” he shouted down the phone,
making me jerk in surprise. “I know not what
you speak of, Vanessa. There hasn’t been a single
day that I haven’t thought of you, matryoshka.
But not with bitterness, not with hate. You know
this, deep down, you know how much I love
you.” His voice was quiet, once again gruff with
emotion. However, after a pause, he finally
became the man I recognised. Memories
assaulted me and goosebumps raced along my
arm, sending a shiver up my spine when he
bared his true self. The chill in his voice exposed
the ruthless man that would have the devil
himself shaking in fear, and I once again became
the timid little girl. “But I think you need to tell
me what the hell is going on!”
Okay, that stumped me. He was many things,
but he wasn’t a liar. He’d always been proud of
the evil that ran through his veins, and I knew if
this bullshit was down to him, he’d have relished
in the fact that I had found out. Maybe even be a
little proud that I had figured it out. Yet there
was something in the way he spoke that told me
my father had nothing to do with The Game.
Day 7
15:30
Caelan
Nessa had been quiet for most of the day.
She’d returned from her morning shower,
withdrawn and a little downcast. I’d made her
jump several times when she’d been lost in
thought and I’d disturbed her.
“It’ll be over soon,” I said softly when I found
her mindlessly picking at a strand of cotton
hanging from the hem of her top.
“Hmm?”
“Today. The Game. This.”
“It’ll never be over, Caelan. This nightmare
will go on and on and on…”
“Is everything okay?”
She inhaled sharply and forced a smile, one I
noticed didn’t reach her eyes. “It would be if this
fucker put us out of our misery and gave us the
next riddle!”
“Not the most patient of people, are you?”
“It’s the waiting, you know. Wondering.
Always anticipating. And the deep-seated need
to save my mum.”
Going to sit beside her, I took her hand in
mine. She was cool, and I gave her a squeeze
when I felt her shiver slightly. “We’ll do this. She
is your final game, just focus on that.”
She frowned and shook her head. “No, we
have your sister-in-law to save after my
mother.”
“Just concentrate on your mother first.
Tomorrow is for worrying about Debbie.”
Sadness had seeped into her eyes and it was
impossible to miss. This week had taken its toll
on both of us, and I knew Nessa was as eager as I
was to put this game to rest. Then we could
concentrate on finding this motherfucker
without the stress of our families’ lives.
“And after the final game?” she asked, wiping
at a stray tear that trickled from the corner of
her eye. The desolation pouring from her was
making it difficult to breathe. Slipping an arm
around her shoulder, I pulled her into my side.
“It’ll be okay, babe. I promise we’ll find this
bastard, and we’ll make him pay.”
Her breath caught, and her body shook as
every emotion caught up with her and she
allowed them to be free. I listened to her cry. I
felt the dampness of her tears soak my chest. I
watched as her body shook in my arms and the
scent of her fruity shampoo filled my nostrils.
Shifting her head, so her chin rested on my
shoulder and her warm breath tickled my ear,
she slipped both arms around me to hold me
closer. “I’m not sure if I’ve done something
stupidly foolish or stupidly clever, Caelan,” she
whispered.
Now it made sense why she had clung to me,
she was using my body and her distress as a
cover to tell me something that the GM wouldn’t
be able to hear or see from the cameras.
Squeezing her tightly, I nestled my ear
against her mouth. “It’s okay, let it out, babe.”
I felt her hesitation, the slight shift in her
posture, but she licked her wet lips and sighed.
“I told someone.”
It was my turn to stiffen with caution, but
before I could argue with her stupidity, she
quickly added, “It’s okay. I was careful. We need
his help, Caelan.”
Burying my face into her hair, hiding my own
mouth from view so the GM couldn’t lipread, I
tried to settle the rampant beat of my heart. “Is
he trustworthy?”
For some reason, she snorted but quickly hid
it with a loud snivel. “Yes. I have something he
wants, and he’ll do anything to get it back.”
Attempting to hide my confused expression, I
dropped a soft kiss to her temple so I could catch
her gaze. Her eyes were fierce with conviction
when she turned her face towards me. My lips
rested on her cheekbone, and I softly kissed her
again, consequently hiding my question from
view. “What?”
Moving her mouth softly across my face, she
stopped when her lips hovered over mine. “Me,”
she breathed into my mouth. I didn’t get a
chance to reply or show my shock. Her kiss
caught me off-guard. It was passionate but full of
tenderness, demanding yet unbelievably giving.
The heat of hell from the lips of an angel. Her
hand slid into my hair, and she pulled me
deeper, her tongue keeping me in a trap I never
wanted release from. I became entirely
consumed by her, with her. I was thirsty for
more but quenched at the same time. I knew I
would never get so much of Vanessa Griffiths in
a single moment ever again.
Abruptly she pulled back, leaving me reeling.
She appeared to be in shock, her eyes searching
mine for the very same thing I hunted for in hers.
“Uhh, sorry. Just needed the diversion.”
It felt like I’d been slapped, and I blinked, the
words I wanted to say swept up in the
whirlwind she’d left me spinning in.
“Well, that was some kiss.” The sound of the
Game Master’s laugh through the shitty iPad
speakers brought both Nessa and me back down
to earth with a thump. “Are we ready for game
seven, gamers?”
Day 7
15:47
‘Dr Griffiths, it’s time to show us you
can dance,
as I’ve procured you a pair of hot pants.
For at 10pm you are booked for a slot
at London’s notorious club, The Black
Apricot.
Popping Candy is your name,
But, oh my, you’re anything but tame.
Move that body and strip to the skin,
show all the men just how much you
sin.’
Nessa blanched. Shit, I paled with her. My
blood ran cold with the thought of what she had
to face. “You bastard!” I growled. Out of all his
stupid games, this one was wrong in so many
ways. “Although I have to say, it doesn’t really
surprise me that you’re a fucking pervert along
with sick in the head!”
“I’m sure that kiss has her hot and hungry,”
the GM chuckled, completely ignoring my jibe.
“Also, Mr Fen, you’ll be pleased to know that I
have reserved you a front row seat. And, your
presence is essential to Game Seven. You will
forfeit the life of Dr Griffiths’ mother if you do
not attend.”
Nessa glanced at me. The previous pastiness
to her face was now stained red with a deep
blush. Averting her eyes when she tried to
conceal her embarrassment, she looked down to
the iPad. “Mum, I’ll see you soon.”
Fixing her a Jack without the dilution of ice, I
wasn’t surprised when she took the glass from
me and knocked back the entire triple measure
in one swallow. If I could guarantee anything to
come from these eight days of hell it would be
Nessa and me attending an Alcoholics
Anonymous meeting.
“It’ll be okay. Just close your eyes and…”
“Will you close your fucking eyes? Will
everyone else?” she snapped.
“Mr Fen will watch, he isn’t to take his eyes
off you,” the GM cut in. “Oh, and there is one
more condition to this game, Dr Griffiths,” he
continued. Nessa’s jaw clenched, and I frowned
when he ordered, “You are not to wear make-
up.”
“Oh, you fucking bastard!” Nessa snarled. Her
entire body appeared to tremble as the colour
drained from her face. The fury radiating from
her baffled me. She had to take off all her
clothes, yet she appeared to be more horrified
by taking off her face paint.
“Oh, come now, Dr Griffiths.” The Game
Master laughed. “Reveal that beautiful body and
all that it includes to everyone.”
Her breathing had escalated, her chest rising
and falling in quick succession as she lowered
herself onto a chair. I couldn’t understand her
reaction to the demand for no cosmetics. It
didn’t make sense.
“But, you know the Apricot is owned by the
Obschina!” she muttered strangely.
The Obschina? Why would Nessa be worried
by the Chechen mafia?
“Surely by now, you understand my
excitement for danger, Dr Griffiths? What kind of
Game Master would I be if I allowed you a
menial task? After all, I wouldn’t want to bore
you now, would I?”
“I’ll see you in hell, you twisted fucker,” Nessa
murmured when the iPad screen went blank.
“Talk to me,” I urged, dropping to a crouch,
and taking her shaking hand in mine. “Why are
you worried about the Obschina?”
Her gaze held mine and the shimmer of
desolation that leaked from her with each tear
that fell had my gut clenching. Something wasn’t
right. Game Seven was evidently more than a
mere striptease act. Nessa’s response was a
testament to that.
When she stood up, dropping my hand, and
walked away without a single word, the worry
that had started to fester inside me turned to
dread.
However, I couldn’t deny the fact that I was
also more than a little intrigued. Nessa had
secrets, lots of them, I was sure of that. One thing
was indisputable, Dr Vanessa Griffiths was so
much more than just a surgeon. And I for one
was eager to find out her true identity.
Day 7
21:23
Nessa
The receptionist, Tantalising Tabitha as her
name badge stated, slid her gaze down my body
with a sneer. I knew I wasn’t shit hot, but I
wasn’t hideous either. “Name?” The way her jaw
moved slowly while she noisily chewed her gum
and waited for my reply made me want to climb
over her desk and launch the stupid bitch
through the frosted glass partition behind her.
“Popping Candy.” Dread was strangling me,
making my reply a high-pitched squeak.
She tried to stifle her snigger but failed
epically and dragged one of her long talons
down the list of names she had on a clipboard.
What the hell was I going to do? This was
going to end badly, in so many ways. Once I
removed my top, shit was going to hit the fan, of
that there was no doubt. What I was unsure of
was whether it would be the Obschina that
ripped me to pieces or Detective inspector
Caelan Fen?
Tabitha appeared confused for a moment,
blinking in rapid succession, and double
checked the paperwork before she became
flustered. The previous scornful snicker that had
sat on her Botox engorged lips suddenly
transformed into a crazy grin that reminded me
of the cat in AliceinWonderland. “Forgive me.
Welcome to The Black Apricot. We’ve been very
much looking forward to your performance.”
I didn’t have words. Her swift turnaround left
me as bewildered as Caelan, who was standing
beside me with a frown watching Tantalising
Tabitha attempt to stick her tongue up my
asshole.
“If you would follow me, Miss Candy, I’ll
show you to your dressing room.” She pointed to
a huge guy that had appeared out of nowhere,
making both Caelan and me jerk in surprise.
“And Adam will escort you to your seat, Mr Fen.”
Caelan lifted his hands and shrugged at me,
surrendering to the peculiar ways of the Game
Master. “God knows, babe. Perhaps she thinks
you’re some sort of celebrity.”
“Lucky me. I get the leading role of a famous
porn star for the night.”
Punching a code into a keypad beside a door,
Tabitha gestured for me to follow her. The
corridor was dimly lit, but it did nothing to hide
the cheap and distasteful décor of the place. The
walls were padded with red velvet, threadbare
and torn in places, and the carpet was just as
shabby, thick with stains and fraying on the
edges. The discoloured sconces on the walls
gave it a 1950’s look, but not in a stylish way. It
was evident this was an area for staff only, but it
still stank of stale sex, hairspray, and pot.
“This is you,” Tabitha indicated when she
stopped outside a door marked with a number
one. “Francis will be along to collect you in time
for your act. Your outfit is in your room, along
with complimentary champagne, and we have
been notified of the choice of music you will be
dancing to tonight. We hope you enjoy your
experience at The Black Apricot.”
I watched her swish away, the sound of her
nylon covered thighs rubbing together loud in
the otherwise quiet corridor. I wasn’t sure I
wanted to step into the room, and I remained
frozen to the spot for quite a while after
Tantalising Tabitha had flashed another of her
freaky smiles and walked away.
Except this had to be done. I knew I wouldn’t
make it out of this stinking place alive, but at
least I could be positive that my mother would
wake up tomorrow. It wasn’t a hard task. It
wasn’t like I would fail. Some of the games had
been a race against time, some physically hard,
and some mentally challenging, but this one
wasn’t any of those. It was a sanction for my
death instead.
Blowing out a breath, I opened the door and
stepped into the room that could possibly
become my tomb.
It wasn’t as drab as I expected it to be. It was
compact and basic but had its own bathroom,
and the vanity unit appeared clean with a mirror
which, although cracked in one corner, was
smear free. I hadn’t failed to notice the lack of
cosmetics – if the GM demanded something, I
was in no doubt that he would make sure it was
upheld. I could only guess that he had paid the
owner a large wedge of money to get me this
much attention.
My gaze fell to the costume hanging from a
hanger on the back of the door, and I groaned.
The black hot pants looked like they would
barely contain my ass, and I was dubious I
would fit my ample chest inside the sheer red
blouse. The skimpy bra was made of black silk
with red lace trim, and the matching thongs
made my butt cheeks clench involuntarily with
the thought of the wedgie they would give me.
The outfit was teamed with knee-high black
lace-up boots. Yet, it wasn’t the items of clothing
that made my heart sink. It was the hat that sat
proudly on the hook.
“Why are you doing this?” I whispered to the
empty room as I wiped away a forbidden tear
and started to undress.
21:54
The knock at the door made me jump. “All
ready?” A woman I presumed to be Francis had a
grin wider than Tantalising Tabitha the Cunting
Cheshire Cat, and I had to wonder if the
Obschina only hired weird freaks.
Struggling to talk as the asphyxiation of fear
squeezed my throat, I merely nodded jerkily.
Her eyes widened with a look of sheer horror
when I picked up the hat and shoved it on my
head.
“Uhh, I’m not sure…”
All I could do was narrow my eyes and shake
my head at her, still unable to form words as
dread overtook me.
Looking torn for a moment, she exhaled
slowly and shrugged. “Okay, but on your head,
be it.” She giggled. “Quite literally, eh?”
Quickly retreating when I gave her a death
glare, she hurried down the corridor. Luckily,
the boots were military and not stilettos as I
only just managed to stay upright when I ambled
after her.
The backstage crew all had the same reaction
to Francis, every single pair of eyes growing
large as they stared at my head. Some of them
paled. Some even went green.
“You’re going to get yourself killed wearing
that!” A guy wearing a headpiece and mic
remarked when I approached the side of the
stage.
“I am aware of that but thank you for the
wasted heads up.”
Holding up both hands, he took a step
backwards. “Okay, love.” Bringing the
mouthpiece closer to his mouth, he spoke into it.
“Popping Candy is ready to go. We need to be
heavy with security, get all the lads up front.”
He practically pushed me onto the stage after
I stood glued to the spot with fright. I stumbled
but managed to, amazingly, remain upright as I
took the spot centre stage.
It didn’t matter that the audience was in pitch
blackness, hiding them from my view. It didn’t
matter that the spotlight hit me straight in the
eyes, blinding me anyway. It didn’t matter that
the thud of my racing pulse in my ears deafened
the shocked gasps that echoed around the small
auditorium. Wearing the fucking Ushanka on my
head, wearing the slutty clothes on my body,
even what I was about to reveal about myself to
not only the room but Caelan didn’t fucking
matter anymore.
Because when the music started, Fleshby
SimonCurtis, a song I knew in my heart because
I had stripped to it so many times for my Denny,
it became unmistakable that the Game Master
knew so much more about me than I could ever
have anticipated.
Day 7
22:02
Caelan
The Russian hat was going to get her killed.
But I guessed she already knew that.
The audience had gone creepily quiet as
Nessa stood rooted to the spot, staring out into
the darkness with unfocused eyes. Now it made
sense. I had thought it a pretty simple task the
GM had set. Yeah, of course, it was humiliating
and demeaning, taking off every item of clothing
in front of a room full of people. But it wasn’t
exactly dangerous. Except, now it was. And it
would appear to every man in this room that
Nessa was mocking them.
The Black Apricot was run by the Chechen
mafia, known for their hatred of the Russians,
especially the Russian mafia. They had been
rivals for a very long time. The GM had definitely
upped his game. There was no way me and
Nessa alone could take on every man in the
room, with or without the piece I had stashed in
the back of my jeans. I’d been surprised I hadn’t
been searched on arrival, yet the way the
receptionist had fallen over herself to be nice, it
was clear the GM had a significant influence on
whoever owned the place.
I’d noticed a few guys rise from their seats as
Nessa finally started to move her body to the
music. She had closed her eyes, and evidently,
she knew the song by heart if the way she softly
sang the lyrics to herself was anything to go by.
“You gonna do something other than stand
there, you Russian cunt?” one guy shouted,
triggering a round of cheers from the other men.
Did they not get it was just a costume piece, and
that she wasn’t fucking Russian? I had never
understood the hatred between the Chechens
and the Russians, weren’t they all the same
anyway?
“Maybe you should help her out, Seth!”
another goaded.
I moved forward, into the lights, and when
Nessa finally opened her eyes, I locked her gaze
and nodded in encouragement. “You can do this,
babe.”
Her face was pale, not surprisingly, but it
wasn’t the tone of her skin that had the hairs on
the nape of my neck standing on end. Nessa
looked at me with more than just fear, she
looked defeated, prepared for death. Her eyes
had dulled, and her shoulders sagged as she
lazily swung her hips to the beat of the track. It
was like she’d given in. It was just a striptease,
the way she was acting didn’t make sense.
However, she did as was bid, and started to
undo the buttons of her blouse.
Her eyes bore into me as she stared straight
into my soul. “Be ready to run,” she mouthed.
Scowling, I shook my head. “Going nowhere,
babe.”
“You need to run!” She practically spat the
words at me through a clenched jaw, her glare
full of both anger and conviction. “You need to
finish the game, Caelan. They will rip you apart
if they know you’re with me!”
I froze. The beat of my heart went crazy with
the look of sorrow in her stare. There was still
something I didn’t know, something shared by
only Nessa and the GM, and I readied myself for
a fight. Slipping my gun out, I clicked the safety
off and looked back to Nessa. “We’ll finish the
game! Together,” I mouthed back, refusing her
demand to run.
A tear dripped from one eye as she sadly
shook her head at me.
Blowing out a long breath, her eyes slowly
slid closed, and she slipped the blouse off her
shoulders.
HOLY. FUCK!
Now we were definitely in trouble!
Day 7
22:12
Nessa
At first, a deathly silence spread around the
room, a couple of shocked gasps the only thing
to be heard over the thunderous roar in my ears.
My gaze dropped to Caelan. “I’m sorry.”
Of everything the GM had put our families
and us through these past seven days, even the
fact that I was about to die gruesomely and
horrifically if the Obschina had their way, it was
the fact that I had kept Caelan in the dark about
who I really was that had my heart twisting in
pain.
“I’m sorry.”
He stood frozen, staring at my chest with rage
in his eyes – much the same as every other man
in the room.
“I’m sorry,” I repeated, stupidly, as I lifted my
eyes back to the room. Everyone was now stood
up, all eyes on me. The air grew thick with the
promise of vehemence, the fate of my slaughter
starting to suffocate me. I could run, but I
couldn’t outrun every man in this room.
Gradually the crowd started to swell
forwards, moving slowly towards the front of
the stage. I looked to the left, wondering if it
really was worth trying to make a run for it.
However, the sight of Tabitha the Cheshire Cunt
flicking a small knife between her fingers put
paid to that option. On my right, a guy and
Francis stood watching me with a repulsive
glare.
“The fuck?” One man who had stepped up
beside Caelan hoisted himself up onto the stage
and calmly strode across the platform toward
me.
My mouth was so dry I thought I was going to
die from drought, and no matter how many
times I tried to force some saliva, fear refused it.
My legs trembled with a force that made my
ankles jolt with the shock, and my heart was
beating so wildly I figured they could all see the
outline of it through my breastbone.
Pressing a blade to the underneath of my jaw,
he tipped my head back until I was looking into
his hateful eyes. “How dare you!” He spat at me,
a globule of spittle slapping me in the cheek and
making me flinch. “How fucking dare you. You
think anyone in this room wants to look at your
filthy Russian cunt?”
Slowly drawing the knife down the front of
my throat and then my chest, he dug the tip into
the flesh above my left breast that was painted
red and gold. “I should carve this from you and
send it to your father in a pretty little box.”
My throat hurt when I tried to swallow back
the lump so I could speak.
“Maybe I should cut off your tit and send him
the whole thing, huh?”
Another couple of men had climbed up and
stood behind the guy that appeared to be in
charge. I could feel the presence of more people
behind me, the threat of vengeance encircling
me.
Searching the crowd, I winced at the hurt that
stabbed my chest harder than the man with the
knife did when I noticed Caelan had
disappeared. I shouldn’t have expected anything
different really. I had betrayed him, lied to him.
Yet, I was full of relief that he had managed to
escape before chaos descended. He needed to
finish the game, and he couldn’t do that if he
were cut into pieces with me.
“Cut off both tits, Kasym,” someone behind
me declared.
“Maybe I’ll cut out her cunt and send it to him
full of spunk.”
Laughter filled the room when Kasym
dragged the blade down my stomach. I flinched
at the pain as my skin split and blood started to
dribble down between my legs and thighs.
“It’s laughable, but not surprising, that your
coward piece of shit father sent you here to do
his dirty work for him. What are your orders?”
I shook my head, willing my mouth to form
words, but once again, it let me down.
“I asked you a question, bitch!”
I hissed through my teeth when the
backhander across my cheekbone sent me
stumbling sideways. A man caught me and
shoved me back towards Kasym.
“Answer me!” he barked as his fist enclosed
my throat.
“I just….” The effort it took to force each word
up my throat and out of my mouth made my
head throb in pain. “I just wanted to strip.”
Scrunching up his face, he stared at me like I
had just told him his daddy fucked Russian
Guinea pigs. “You just wanted to strip?”
I nodded. “My father doesn’t know I’m here. I
don’t… I’m not part of the family.” I knew it was
futile trying to explain myself, but still, I tried. “I
am not associated with the Bratva.”
“Bullshit!” he roared, making me rear back.
“This ink tells me different!” Once again, he
stabbed the knife into my tattoo, twisting it
deeper. Blood trickled from the crown, staining
the red rose with the deep crimson of my blood.
I should have cut the fucking ugly thing out
myself years ago! “You’re branded with the
Bratva insignia, and with a crown, no less. I
know exactly who you are… Vanessa Alexeev,
the one and only Bratva princess!”
Tears overflowed, falling from me in wave
after wave of despair when Kasym pushed me to
my knees. “I think we should cut the crown from
your head and send it to Maksim along with
your tits and cunt.” He smirked when I shook in
terror before him.
Taking my hair in his fist, he yanked it
upwards. Yelping at the pain that pierced my
scalp with the strict pull, he demonstrated
exactly how sharp his blade was, and in one
swift slash he cut the length of hair from my
head.
Vomit raced up my throat, and I fought to
keep it contained. The stage was now full of
men, all of them eagerly awaiting the scalping of
the Bratva princess. I could see the hunger for it
in their steely gazes, some even licking their lips
as though they could taste my death.
A muffled cry left me, and I gagged when he
shoved the hair he had cut from me into my
mouth and tried to force it down my throat.
Perhaps I would die of suffocation before
bleeding to death. I was sure that would be a
better way to go.
“Something to bite down on, sweetheart.”
Everyone laughed, moving forwards so they
could watch Kasym peel the skin from my scalp.
A quiet whimper was all I could manage
when I felt the edge of the knife pierce my
temple. However, I didn’t hear it over the chaos
that suddenly filled the room. I couldn’t see the
pandemonium around me as my own blood
seeped down my forehead, blinding me.
Gunshots. Shouts. Scuffles. I struggled to sort
through each one as the world tipped sideways
and I fell forwards.
The despair of encroaching death, the
unbearable agony that finally liberated the
vomit stuck in my throat, the sheer terror
making my body convulse with shock, it all went
away when the distinctive boom of a shotgun
silenced the room, and my father’s deep voice
sent me spiralling into a realm of black peace.
“Touch one more hair on her head, and I will kill
you all!”
Day 8
02:36
“Hello, Vanessa.”
The smile I hadn’t seen in so many years
made the pain scorching my forehead intensify
when I frowned. “Papa?”
The many laughter lines around his eyes and
wrinkles on his forehead were new, and his hair
was now a shade of silver, but the glint of love
that had always shone through his eyes brought
back so many memories. Some good. Some bad.
“You’re safe now.”
Attempting to move, I winced at the pain in
my head and instinctively brought my fingers to
my hairline. Dread coursed through me, and I
almost daren’t feel for what I expected my touch
to find. However, I was confused when I found
only a small bandage covering a portion of my
scalp. “What happened?”
“Lost a couple of men, but we got you out.”
Managing to shuffle up the bed, I leaned back
against the headboard and stared at my father.
“How the hell did you find me, or get into the
Apricot for that matter?”
“Your man let us in the back door.”
His answers were only adding to my
confusion. “Caelan?”
The blue of his eyes darkened, and he shook
his head slowly. “You do know who he is, don’t
you, Vanessa?”
“Of course, I know who he is. And now he
knows who I am. But you haven’t answered my
question, how did you know where I was?”
Dread trickled through my veins when guilt
crossed his face. “I know you said I wasn’t to
interfere, but I was worried about you, my
matryoshka.”
Time seemed to stop as I waited for him to go
on, and when he remained silent I yelled at him,
“How – did – you – find – me?”
Glancing away for a moment, he physically
winced when he gave me his answer. “I got some
men to latch on to the signal frequency of the
iPad.”
Horror made my head shake, and I clambered
out of bed.
“Vanessa!”
“Get off me!” I screamed as I shook him off
and raced through the bedroom. My feet
stumbled on the stairs, and I grabbed hold of the
handrail to stop myself falling down the last few.
Caelan was sat at the kitchen table when I
burst into the room. The look on his face when
he lifted his red-rimmed eyes told me what I
already knew.
“No!”
My knees thudded on the tiled floor as
devastation tore from me in a scream that tore
the lining of my throat.
“Nooo!”
Caelan quickly came to my side, scooping me
into his arms and pulling me close. “Both your
mother and Debbie,” he choked out. “He said we
cheated, and our orders were to tell no one.”
“I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!”
“Shush, this isn’t on you.”
“Yes, it is,” I argued. “I told, I told him. I killed
them both. I killed them both,” I uttered over
and over until the desolation and agony tearing
through me forced my mind to shut down and
grant me a reprieve from the hell my actions had
brought us.
Day 8
07:32
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Shifting into a more comfortable position, I
blew the steam from my coffee and took a sip
before answering Caelan. “You’re a cop, Caelan.”
He was both angry and confused, and I got
that. “I could have prepared if I’d known you
were fucking Bratva!”
“I’m not fucking Bratva!” I barked.
Giving me a dubious look, he shook his head
and sighed. “We both know that’s not true. So,
what? Did you think I’d drag you down the
station, is that why you didn’t tell me?”
“No!” I tried. Sighing, I rubbed at my sore
eyes and blew out a frustrated breath. “I didn’t
tell you because, initially, I didn’t need to. I
haven’t seen my father for twenty years, Caelan.
I didn’t think it was necessary to inform you of
every detail of my life.”
“I get that, I really do, babe. But, yesterday, it
came into play. You knew that your tattoo would
explode in our faces. Yet you still chose not to
tell me.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “And I get
a feeling there’s still something you’re not
telling me.”
Jesus, there was so much I wasn’t telling him,
but I didn’t have a clue where to start, or even if
I wanted to. When he found out what I had done,
this conversation and the fact I was the Bratva
heir would be a moot point anyway.
Except, now the game was over I most likely
wouldn’t see Caelan again. Another reason that I
shouldn’t tell him. It was all such a mess. On the
one hand I wanted to spill everything, free the
guilt I had held inside me for nearly four years,
but on the other hand, I didn’t think I could bear
the look of hatred in Caelan’s eyes.
“You know,” he continued, filling both of our
mugs from the coffee pot and turning his back on
me to place it back on the hotplate. “At one
point, I thought you may be connected to the
London mafia.” I was so glad his back was to me
- that way he didn’t see me stiffen. “How wrong I
was, huh?”
“Any news about our families?” I asked him,
quickly changing the subject. I couldn’t deal with
his questions. My mother was dead. My body
ached, my head throbbed, and the deep gash on
my stomach that my father’s private medic had
stitched was sore and painful. I was exhausted,
and all I wanted to do was find out what was
happening with Sam and Carolyn. A choked gasp
left me when it dawned on me that they were
both now orphans. “Oh, God, Caelan. They’ve lost
both their parents. I’m all they have left now!”
Turning to face me, he leaned back against
the counter and nodded. “The same as Oliver,
Noah and Debbie’s son. Luckily, he still has my
mum and me though.”
“Arghh!” I screamed in rage. My cup
shattered on the wall, spraying hot coffee across
the floor. “I want to kill him, Caelan.”
“Yeah.” He looked troubled for a moment
before he opened a drawer beside him and took
out a small square envelope. “This was left in
your dressing room at the Apricot with a bunch
of flowers. I think it’s a clue.”
My hand shook as I took the envelope from
him. This clue was more personal. All the others
had been via the iPad, yet this was handwritten.
Lifting my eyes to Caelan, I looked at him with
hope. “Can you get the writing analysed?”
He nodded, a small smile playing the corner
of his mouth. “Yep. Although I suspect it will
have been delivered by a local florist, so
probably written by a random employee.
Although doubtless that we’ll get his prints from
it, only ours and the delivery people, I’m hoping
I can get at least a trace from the payment. Or if
he’d ordered them in person then maybe a
description.”
Nodding quickly, a ray of hope spurring me
on, I pulled out the small piece of card from the
already open envelope.
‘Anegativemindwillneverallowyoutobe
positive.’
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“I have to say,” the GM stated as the iPad lit
up. “I’m disappointed in you, Dr Griffiths.”
Caelan and I both looked down to the screen.
Sam, Carolyn, Jenny, Stuart, and Caelan’s mother
were all sat side by side on chairs. They were
blindfolded and tied up as before, except this
time the walls were different. Previously, the
wall behind them had been rough, bare
stonework, and now a cream woodchip
wallpaper covered the expanse behind them. He
had moved them.
I willed my heart to keep beating as I waited
for him to drop yet another bombshell because I
had no doubt there was to be one.
“You broke the rules,” he continued. “And you
had to pay the price for that. As well as losing
your loved ones, you also forfeited the last
remaining clue.”
“Fuck!” Caelan hissed.
“However,” the Game Master stated, “I
consider myself a fair person.”
“That’s debatable!” Caelan growled. Shaking
my head at him, I warned him to keep quiet.
Ignoring Caelan, the GM carried on. “Because
you cheated, Dr Griffiths, by rights I should now
conclude our game by killing all your victims.”
Allmyvictims? This man was certifiably
insane!
“Please,” I begged. “I’m willing to do
anything!”
“Hmm.” The long pause seemed to go on for
hours, although only a matter of seconds. “Then
we will proceed with the last game. Everything
is on this one, gamers. Both the lives of your
remaining family members and the very last
clue.”
Caelan sat up straighter, eager to get started.
“Then let’s finish this!”
Day 8
07:55
Caelan
‘Oxford, Piccadilly and Baker Street,
go to the place where all these meet.
But you must be there by 11:32
since you’re off to Warwick Avenue.
In the booth where things are no longer
possessed
is where you’ll obtain your community
chest.
Caelan, I hope you’re good at character
play,
as it’s Mr Marsh who you’ll
impersonate today.’
Nessa made a strange choking sound, and I
helped her into a chair when I saw her knees
buckle. “You okay?”
She didn’t appear to hear me. Her skin had
taken a deathly shade of white, and she seemed
to be struggling to breathe.
Dropping to a crouch in front of her, I tipped
her chin so I could see her face. “What is it? Is it
your wounds?”
Shaking her head, she refused to meet my
eyes and instead looked over my shoulder. “I, uh,
I need a drink of water.”
Grabbing a bottle from the fridge, her hands
trembled uncontrollably when she took it from
me. After drinking half the bottle, she licked her
lips and finally looked at me. “Why… Why Mr
Marsh?”
Shrugging, not understanding the panic in her
eyes, I regarded her carefully. Her reactions to
many of the GM’s games had been strange, and
this time was no different. “I would imagine
because he knows Marsh is the name I use when
corresponding with online contacts.”
Blinking, she appeared to relax a little and
nodded as a bit of colour returned to her cheeks.
“Of course.”
Watching her finish the bottle, I took the
chair beside her and reread the riddle.
“Monopoly, perhaps?” Nessa suggested, her
behaviour seemingly back to normal. “Oxford
and Piccadilly are properties on the board, and
community chest is definitely associated with
the game.”
“Hmm,” I mused. “But that doesn’t make
sense for Warwick Avenue. Is Baker Street on
the monopoly board?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“The underground.” Nessa and I looked up to
find Maksim, Nessa’s father, peering over our
shoulders at the iPad. “Piccadilly Circus, Oxford
Circus, Baker Street, and Warwick Avenue,
they’re all tube stations.”
“Of course!”
Firing up the internet on my laptop, I checked
the tube timetables. “Looks like the only 11:32
to Warwick Avenue is from Bakerloo.”
“Okay, so Bakerloo it is.”
Sensing the shift in the atmosphere since
Maksim had entered the room, I made my
excuses and left them to talk.
I still wasn’t sure how I felt about Nessa being
connected to the Bratva. The Met had been
chasing Maksim Alexeev for years, but he’d
always been one step ahead of us. Although it
was rare he was ever in the UK personally, a lot
of London, Manchester and Birmingham crimes
were connected to the Bratva, not that I could
ever pin any evidence down. They were clever
bastards, and had a number of hierarchy in their
pockets, from, I suspected, the chief
commissioner to a few of the most prominent
judges, even a few key politicians. The Russian
mafia was vast, and no one was ever willing to
risk their wrath by grassing. It also infuriated
me how the London mafia also took a step back
to cater to Maksim. Due to the notoriety for his
ruthlessness, and the sheer size of his army,
everyone wanted to keep on his good side. I had
often hoped that they’d end up taking each other
out, but Maksim had refrained from starting a
war and preferred to take the middle ground
with his rivals. All except the Chechens that was.
What did puzzle me, however, was how the
Game Master knew about Nessa’s bloodline. On
all the intel we had on the Bratva, I couldn’t
recall any mention that Maksim had a daughter.
And if the MET didn’t have any knowledge of
her, how the hell did the GM?
Day 8
08:17
Nessa
“How are you feeling?” my father asked as he
pulled out the chair beside me and sat down.
“My mother is dead. Stuart is dead, and if I
don’t succeed with today’s game, then Sam and
Carolyn, and Caelan’s family will be dead too.
My body feels like it’s been hit by a train. I’m
being persecuted by a guy who thinks the movie,
Saw,was his own personal documentary. And to
top it off, my father is back in my life after I
swore to him that if he ever came within
breathing distance of me again, that I would kill
him. So, yeah, I’m hunky-dory.”
Looking contrite, he lowered his eyes and
nodded. “Your father sounds a right cunt.”
“Oh, believe me,” I scoffed. “He is.”
“I’m sorry, my matryoshka.”
He quirked an eyebrow at me when I pulled a
cigarette out of Caelan’s pack that sat on the
table. I glared back as I lit it, took a long drag,
and blew the smoke his way. “You know, I never
did get why you call me that.”
Joining me, evidently going by the saying, ‘if
you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em’, he took a cigarette
of his own and lit up. “Because you have so many
layers, Vanessa. You’ve always been strong,
bold, kind, resilient, stubborn, but so very
capable at anything you put your heart into.”
Sorrow filled his eyes, and he placed his hand
over mine where it rested on the table. “I am so
sorry about Denny. He was a good man.”
“Yes, he was. Unlike you, he was ruthless but
fair.”
“Vanessa, please. I don’t know what to do to
make it right. I miss you so much. There hasn’t
been a single day when I haven’t thought about
you.”
“I can’t say the same back. I have done
everything in my power to forget you.” My heart
twisted a little at the wounded look on his face. I
didn’t mean it, obviously, but I wanted him to
hurt as much as he’d hurt my mother and me.
Sighing, I yielded a little. “However, now, I can
understand why you did it, and to hold a grudge
would make me a hypocrite.”
Narrowing his eyes at me, a look of caution
on his face, he appeared anxious. “Please tell me
you didn’t get involved in Denny’s business.”
“As I said,” I snorted. “Hypocritical.”
“I never allowed my business to affect your
life, Vanessa. You know that!”
“But you couldn’t give my mother the same
grace, could you?”
“I’m sorry she’s dead, I really am. And yes,
what I did was wrong…”
I held a hand up, halting his apology. “It’s not
my forgiveness you need, it was my mother’s.
Ever since she took me away from you, she
never got over what you did. Stuart was good for
her.” Tears welled in my eyes, and I fought with
them not to flow over. I couldn’t give grief
liberation, not yet. I needed to get past this last
game, only then could I allow myself to mourn
two of the most amazing people that had graced
this ugly world. “And the one thing I have to be
grateful for is that they’re still together in the
afterlife because I have no doubt Stuart’s death
would have just brought it all back and broken
her for the very last time.”
“I did as she asked, Vanessa. I stayed away
from both of you. I loved your mother very
much, matryoshka, and I love you even more.
Being apart from both of you for so very long has
been my penance for Justin.”
“Don’t you dare speak his name!” I wasn’t
sure why I was so angry. It was like all the
rotten parts of my past were coming back to
haunt me. I shouldn’t be so mad with Papa. After
all, hadn’t I done the same thing fifteen years
later? Fair enough, different circumstances, but
it had been my decision, not Denny’s. Still, that
didn’t mean I didn’t regret it every day since. So,
in a way, I could, and should, sympathise with
my father. It was so easy to blame him for
everything, but the truth was, I had made my
own terrible decisions.
“I just want a chance to be in your life. That is
all. Please, Vanessa.”
The hope in his eyes as he looked at me made
it so hard to refuse him. “Let me get today over
with, then we’ll talk some more.”
The broadest grin covered his face, and he
swiped at a stray tear in the corner of his eye.
“I’m not making any promises, Papa. Okay?”
He nodded eagerly and squeezed my hand.
“Of course. One day at a time.”
“And, for God’s sake, don’t say anything to
Caelan about Denny!”
Snorting, he looked at me with a smirk. “Like
I would ever tell a pig anything!”
“Oh, and by the way,” I said nonchalantly as I
got up to make us fresh coffee. “I’m getting
married.”
I couldn’t hold back the smirk when he
choked on his cigarette smoke.
Day 8
11:32
Caelan
Nessa was agitated. She had been nibbling on
her fingernails since we had entered Bakerloo
station, and from the ever-changing expressions
on her face, it was clear her mind was working
overtime.
“Don’t worry, we’ll do this one.”
Chewing on her lip, she blinked at me but
didn’t respond otherwise.
Scanning the carriage, I tried to suss out if the
GM was on board. However, any one of the
people packed in with us could have been him,
and unless I was to haul every single ass down to
the station, I couldn’t even begin to question
them all.
Nessa stumbled when we pulled into
Marylebone station, and I instinctively reached
out and grabbed her arm to stop her from
falling. “Okay?”
She rolled her eyes and nodded. “Think
maybe I should hold on harder.” Sweat had
beaded on her brow, and she wiped the back of
her hand across it. “I hate the tube!”
Agreeing with a nod when we started moving
again, I glanced around, endlessly aware of our
surroundings and checking to see if anyone was
paying close attention to us. “Me too. Stinks of
piss and it’s always so hot!”
Five minutes later, we were both glad when
we stepped off at Warwick Avenue.
“Always reminds me of that Duffy song
whenever I see the sign for Warwick Avenue,”
Nessa remarked.
Very softly she started singing the song. I was
mesmerised, the husky tone of her voice utterly
compelling and I could do nothing more than
keep staring at her as we made our way through
the station.
Spotting the lost property office, I grabbed
Nessa’s hand and changed direction. “I take it
this is what it means in the riddle by a booth
where things are no longer possessed.”
“Of course!” Nessa exclaimed, looking
relieved and flashing me one of her rare smiles.
It was hard to miss how her eyes twinkled
whenever she smiled genuinely at me. It was
hypnotic, and I hadn’t failed to see how
extremely breath-taking she was when she
allowed herself to relax a little.
The guy sitting behind a counter looked up
when we entered the office, and I had to stifle a
laugh when Nessa leaned into me and
whispered, “Well, ain’t he just peachy.”
Bert, the lost property officer, as his
nameplate indicated, must have been around
four-hundred and six. The mass of wrinkles on
his face gave him the appearance of a bulldog,
and his charm only corroborated that
comparison.
“Yeah?” he drawled as if our presence bored
him more than the game of darts he was
watching on the small crappy TV on the counter.
“We’ve come to claim some lost property.”
Without looking at me, he held out a hand. It
was hard to miss the dirt under and around his
fingernails and judging by the faint grunt of
disgust from Nessa she hadn’t either. “Ticket
number?”
“Sorry?”
“Ticket - number,” he repeated, once again
without any suggestion of what he meant.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Nessa purred, leaning on the
counter, and offering him a glimpse of her
cleavage as she gave him her killer smile. “We
lost the printout receipt on the tube somewhere.
We’ve come all the way from Derbyshire. It’s too
far to go back and make another online claim
and then travel back down.”
Bert’s eyes lifted from her chest to her mouth
when Nessa slowly slid the tip of her tongue
along her top teeth and gave him another
alluring smile.
“I would be very appreciative if you could just
take a look for us.” Giving him a wink and
seductively biting her lip, she added, “I promise
not to tell your boss, sir. It’ll just be between us,
our little secret.”
Sighing, he rolled his eyes. “Name?”
“Marsh,” I stated quickly before he changed
his mind.
Hoisting himself out of the chair, he
disappeared through a door, both Nessa and I
jumping when it slammed shut behind him.
“Think he’s locked himself in?” Nessa said
when Bert failed to return after fifteen minutes.
“Should I go….”
The door reopened, and Bubbly Bert
reappeared. He was scratching his head with a
puzzled expression as he looked at an envelope
he held in his hand. “Been a while hasn’t it?”
Confused, I returned his frown. “Sorry?”
Handing me the envelope, he tapped the date
that had been stamped onto the front. “Been
here since 25
th
May 2014. How come it’s taken
you nearly four years to reclaim?”
My heartbeat stuttered, and my head swam. I
was finding it hard to breathe as I stared at the
date. A date I would never forget for the rest of
my life. Was this a joke? If so, it was one hell of a
sick one.
Nessa made that funny choked sound again,
and I blinked at her when the blood drained
from her face, and she held onto the countertop.
My mouth had become so dry that I couldn’t
form words.
“Don’t usually keep stuff for that long, so a bit
of a mystery,” Bert announced when I remained
mute with shock and took it from him with
shaky hands.
Nessa and I stumbled out of the office, and I
let out the breath I’d been holding since Bert’s
declaration. I didn’t get why Nessa was so
thrown by the date, though. This was a date
personal to me only. She was as silent as me
when I opened the envelope and pulled out a
slip of paper.
‘It’s not hard to find which one is yours
out of all the numerous metal doors.
Six up and four along,
will the contents be your swan song?
16593
is the code you need to gain you entry.’
I made a mental note of the number,
presuming it to be our last clue, and looked
around for some lockers.
Nessa looked like she was about to puke.
Much the same as me really.
What the hell did that mean anyway? ‘Will
the contents be your swansong?’ Did he mean
because it was the last game? Plus, the fact that
the GM had planned this whole fucked-up-shit
since the day of Noah’s death was quite
alarming. Nessa had thought this entire thing
had been personal to her. Well, now it was proof
that this wasn’t all about her.
She followed me, completely silent and
almost lethargic as I made my way over to a
block of lockers to the side of the foyer.
Counting six up and four along, I punched the
code into the keypad and opened the door.
A file sat alone inside, and intrigued, I
reached in and took it out. We both stared at the
red lettering ‘Strictly Confidential. Restricted
access. Level 1 only’ that had been stamped on
the light brown cover. But it wasn’t that that
held both our attention. It was the words
sprawled underneath.
OperationFirefox
DennyBarnes
VanessaAlexeev
“Caelan.” Nessa was crying, her pale face now
a shade of green. Shaking her head wildly, she
was panting and shivering so much I thought she
was going to pass out. “Please, don’t look.” Her
eyes were on the file in my hand, and she stared
at it as though it was a bomb about to blow up.
“Please.”
However, when I opened to the first page, it
wasn’t the file that exploded.
It was me.
Day 8
12:17
Nessa
I hadn’t seen the file for nearly four years, but
I had never forgotten the contents of it. It had
been the hypothetical bullet that had shot
through my heart and massacred a piece of me
that I would never get back. I had hunted for it
everywhere after Noah, scoured the ends of the
earth for it, and I was puzzled as to how the hell
the GM had obtained access to it or how he even
knew of its whereabouts.
Noah had known he was going to die, and
instead of handing the file to his superiors, he
had instead locked it away, fundamentally
burying it. Why? My soul told me the answer to
my question, but I refused to listen to it.
My heart hurt, and I could do nothing to stop
the vomit that heaved from me. People stared at
me as I bent over and puked endlessly into a
recycling bin beside the row of lockers.
A squeal tore from me when a hand snatched
my short hair. My head was ripped backwards,
and my spine slammed against the metal doors.
The revulsion on Caelan’s face when he stared at
me with tears in his eyes only broke me more.
His hold on my throat was harsh, his fingers
digging into where my pulse throbbed crazily
under his thumb. “You lied to me!”
I couldn’t allow myself to break completely.
Not yet. “Your brother lied to me!”
The hatred in his eyes hurt me more than I
thought it would have when he found out. I had
been under no illusions that the GM would tell
Caelan eventually, and his last game had indeed
been my swan song.
“Jesus,” he spat out. “It wasn’t because Noah
was undercover, was it? Your husband killed
him because he found out about the two of you?”
Memories flooded back, and I choked on the
sob that was clogging my throat. “No. Denny
didn’t kill him.” I wouldn’t lie to him, not now. “I
did.”
Blood drained from his face, and he reared
back. His mouth fell open, and his head shook
wildly. “No! No!”
I could barely speak, but I forced the words
from my mouth. “Noah made me fall in love with
him. But it was all a ploy to get information on
my husband’s business. Denny didn’t have a clue
about us or Noah’s reason for making his way
into the family.”
He stumbled back, my words jabbing at him.
“Why weren’t you there?”
I didn’t understand his question, and I shook
my head. “Where?”
A bitter laugh fell from him, confusing me
further. I couldn’t fathom his reaction or his
questioning.
“Caelan? Why wasn’t I where?”
“On all the intel concerning Denny Barnes
and Frank Johns. How the hell did you stay
under the radar?”
Now it made sense, and I pulled my shoulders
back defiantly. “Because Denny made sure to
keep me away from it all. But Noah found out
about me and made it his mission to slither
under my skin. I fell in love with him, Caelan. I
fuckinglovedhim! And it was all just a cruel
game to him.” Unable to control the grief that
was overwhelming me, I screamed at him. “He
was going to ruin my husband, my family,
everything we had worked for. He was going to
send them all to hell. I couldn’t allow that. I
loved Denny too, and I couldn’t allow that,
Caelan. Noah was a fucking undercover cop, and
it was too late for us all when I found out.”
Dropping his shocked eyes to the floor, he
shook his head as if bewildered before another
laugh burst from him. He wouldn’t stop laughing,
tears streaming down his face as he ran his
hands through his hair and spun around in slow
circles.
Why was he laughing? It didn’t make sense.
However, when he finally looked at me with
eyes made of pure rage, my body froze in
preparation. Leaning into me, a cruel smirk
tilting the corner of his mouth as he pressed his
lips to my ear, his response made perfect sense.
“Then I killed the wrong person.”
His words slowly sunk in and I fell
backwards, my shoulder hitting one of the
locker handles and shooting pain down my arm.
“No.” My voice was quiet, pure horror and
grief seizing every one of my motor skills and
disabling me. “No, Caelan.”
He scoffed, sneering at me. “Yes. I killed your
beloved husband, Dr Griffiths. As they say,
revenge is sweet. And while I watched his life
seep from him, vengeance was as sweet as
fucking honey. Now even more so.”
I dropped to my knees and screamed when
Caelan turned and walked away.
Day 12
19:38
Nessa
729
11520
0124349
143
‘Blood.’
7248
‘Anegativemindwillneverallowyoutobe
positive.’
16593
I stared at the list for the hundredth time.
Why the hell didn’t any of it make sense? I’d
tried a cryptographer of my own, and even the
guy Papa had hired had failed to come up with
anything so far.
Looking over the list of games, I tried to find
the connection between them and me.
1.
Kidneytransplant.Link:??Noidea!
2.
Waterinthestoreroom.??Noidea!
3.
Exhumingthebody.Link:Dennyand
Noahburiedthere.
4.
WalkdownConnaughtonStreet.Link:To
revealmyassociationwiththeLondon
mafia.
5.
Trinitymaze.WhereDennyproposed.
6.
ShootingtheropeinBrackleyWoodto
saveJenny…Link:Exposemyskillwitha
firearm,maybe.Butunsureofwhythere.
7.
PoppingCandy.Flesh,bySimonCurtis.
MineandDenny’ssong.ToprovetheGM
knowsmoreaboutmethatIthought,
maybe?Andrevealmyassociationwiththe
Bratva.
8.
Lostproperty:Link:Thefile,maybe.
Lawrence’s Bar
Trinity House
Yew Tree Cemetery
The Royal Hospital
Warwick Avenue
Brackley Wood
The first three were all significant to me, but
the hospital, Brackley Wood, and Warwick
Avenue were a bit of a puzzle. Although, yes, I
was a doctor, The Royal had closed around
thirty years ago, and I’d never stepped foot
inside. Maybe the tube station was a connection
because it was where Noah had hidden the file?
“Case numbers, maybe?” Papa asked from
where he sat facing me across my kitchen table.
“Well, it’s not like I can ask Caelan, now, is it.”
Narrowing his eyes at me, he leaned his
elbows on the table and regarded me carefully.
“Are you ever going to tell me what happened
between the two of you?”
I hadn’t seen Caelan in four days. Every time
there was a knock at the door I panicked,
thinking it was finally time to serve time for
what I had done to Noah. Yet, so far, nothing.
Sam and Carolyn had, miraculously, turned
up on my front doorstep the morning of Day
Nine, and although they were both traumatised
and exhausted, physical wounds were
practically non-existent. They had been fed and
given necessary bathroom provisions, yet,
neither of them had seen the face of the man in
black. He had also refrained from speaking, so
any detail they could give about him was
minimal.
The relationship between my father and me
had become a little more comfortable day by
day. He had barely left my side, or Sam and
Carolyn’s, since he had arrived in England from
Russia, and if he had business to attend to, a
couple of heavies were on constant guard
around us. He was as devastated as I was over
the death of my mother, and it was glaringly
obvious that he had continued to love her, even
after her affair with Justin.
Sighing, I poured myself a whisky and my
father a vodka and settled back. Nodding my
head towards his drink, I gave him a sad smile.
“You’ll need it.”
He looked worried for a moment but
realising I was about to tell him something
serious, he took a large mouthful and made
himself comfortable, giving me his full attention.
“Five years ago, Denny started talking about
a new man that had joined the firm, he couldn’t
praise this guy enough, and over time he started
to trust Noah more and more. It was rare that I
was ever included in any business dealings, so it
was a while before I met Noah.” Visions of the
second man I had fallen in love with filled my
thoughts, and my heart clenched painfully. “One
day Denny came to me and said he needed my
help. He suspected the wife of one of his men,
Wendy, was squealing to someone. He’d had a
shipment of firearms and another containing
drugs from Columbia seized by some rogue
company as soon as the ships docked in
England.”
Lighting a cigarette, I slid the packet across
the table, offering one to my father. He joined
me, lighting one up as he refilled our glasses.
“Anyway, because I wasn’t recognised by
anyone in Denny’s business, as he kept me
totally isolated, apart from a select few whom
he trusted with his life, he asked if I could stake
Wendy out. However, concerned for my safety,
even though I could take care of myself, he said
that Noah was to shadow me. Protection as
such.”
“He was right to do that, matryoshka.”
I nodded, giving him a smile. “That’s how
Denny was, he would lay his life on the line for
me.” I missed Denny every day, and after
Caelan’s admission four days ago, I had found
him in my thoughts even more often. “So,
anyway, over the next couple of months, Noah
barely left my side. He was beside me whenever
we followed Wendy, but I found that I enjoyed
his company, and he was making more and more
excuses to visit me, even when we weren’t
tailing Wendy.”
“You fell in love,” Papa said, finishing my
story for me.
I nodded and wiped at the forbidden tear that
rolled down my face. “I fell in love. Head over
heels.”
“What happened?”
Pain seared my chest, and I winced. “I was on
a break at work one day. The park opposite the
hospital had a hotdog stand that served this
amazing sauce and three times out of five I
would buy my lunch there.”
I took the glass from my father when he
refilled it yet again. I was becoming more
addicted to whisky than nicotine, and I made a
mental note to back off a little. However,
tonight, well tonight I needed the oblivion only
bourbon offered.
“I noticed this guy sitting on a bench nearby.
He was reading a newspaper, and it humoured
me how it looked like a scene out of a movie.
You know the type, where a bench would be a
meeting point, and I felt myself staring at him.”
“Let me guess,” he cut in with a heavy sigh. “It
turned out to be exactly that.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“And it was Noah who turned up to meet
him.”
I nodded. “It was just how I had envisaged.
The man folded the newspaper and placed it on
the bench beside him. Noah strolled in casually
and sat down next to him. They didn’t speak, and
Noah got up and left. Then the other man stood
up and walked away, but I noticed he’d picked
up a brown envelope with his newspaper.”
Papa looked at me with so much sadness in
his eyes it was painful to look at him.
“Don’t give me your pity, Papa. I was a fool.”
“What did he say when you confronted him?”
I scoffed, downing more alcohol. “I didn’t.
One night I called him and arranged to meet him
at the usual place. I watched him leave, and then
I broke into his place.”
He lit a cigarette and passed it to me, even
though I had only just finished my previous one.
I took it between my thumb and forefinger and
rolled it back and forth.
“Fuck it,” I exclaimed, stubbing it out in the
ashtray.
“Jesus, Vanessa!” my father mumbled when I
took a joint from the tin on top of the cupboard
and lit that instead. Fuck nicotine. I needed an
industrial strength smoke.
Ignoring him, I carried on with my story. “I
found it.”
“What did you find?”
“The file. It had every detail I had ever told
Noah about Denny’s business. But, it didn’t just
contain information on the family, it was full of
images of me.”
“With Denny?” he asked. “Was he planning on
taking you down with him?”
A bitter laugh fell from me, and I shook my
head. “Oh no. That wasn’t enough for Noah. I
found photos of me and him having sex, even a
video. It was obvious Noah didn’t just want to
take me down.”
Papa looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”
Disgust rolled over me, and I baulked. “The
video was on a USB stick. In an envelope.”
He shrugged and nodded, willing me to go on.
“Which was addressed to my husband.”
He blanched, grasping the enormity of what I
had just revealed. “He was planning on exposing
your affair to Denny?”
“Yeah. The result of that would be…”
“Your death,” he finished for me.
“And a pretty gruesome one at that.”
The memories were becoming suffocating,
and I poured another drink. I was well on my
way to oblivion now, and with a knowing look,
my father took the bottle away from me.
“So,” I carried on, “I made sure that myself,
Denny, and all his men had a steadfast alibi. On
the night of 25
th
May, I threw a birthday party
for Denny, and invited all the bent coppers from
the MET that he had in his pocket, plus a few
politicians.”
Papa smiled. “Clever girl, he taught you well.”
“That he did, and I betrayed him. I’m not
proud of that, and I have lived with the guilt for
the rest of my life.”
Reaching across, he placed his hand on mine
and patted it gently. “We all make mistakes,
matryoshka. It’s the lessons we learn from them
that is important.”
“Oh, I learned a huge lesson that day. That, at
the end of the day, you can only trust the truth
with yourself.”
“Life’s been hard for you, Vanessa. But I
promise…”
“Don’t promise me anything, Papa,” I told him
firmly, shaking my head and making him see the
conviction in my eyes. “I have learned not to
trust promises, you only set yourself up for more
heartache that way. Anyway,” I continued, “I had
arranged, by mouth, to meet Noah at a new
hotel. I paid a random guy I found in a
backstreet pub to pose as room service, and at
exactly eleven pm he was to deliver a burger
and some beers to Noah, with a message that I
was running late.”
Relighting the joint, I drew a long inhalation
and slowly let it out. I didn’t want to relive the
night, but I knew I had to tell someone. I had
kept it buried for so long that the enormity of it
had become a festering cesspit in my soul,
dirtying me more and more every day.
“I had laced the burger with a paralysing
agent.”
Papa’s eyes widened on me, but he remained
silent, listening intently to my horror story.
“At precisely 11:34, I slipped from the party.
Grabbing a bag that I had previously stashed in
an industrial bin in the alleyway that ran
between the club and the hotel, I slipped on a
long coat and wig and entered the hotel. Noah
was unconscious, as I knew he would be.”
“What did you do?”
“I had very little time before I knew someone
would miss me at the party. So, I’d had to think
and plan ahead. It took me a mere five minutes
to strip Noah and drag him to the bathtub.”
Papa regarded me closer, leaning on the
table. “You drown him.”
Nodding, I winced at the sting in my chest. “I
drown him.”
Idrownhim.
Idrownhim.
“Fuck!” I exclaimed, making my father jump
when I shot upright.
Grabbing my notebook, I stared at the second
game listed.
And I finally had my connection to Game
Two!
Day 13
9:43
Caelan
I couldn’t stop myself from looking at the
photos and contents of Noah’s file. I hadn’t left
the house for three days. I stank, and I couldn’t
remember the last thing I had eaten. Whisky and
pot had been the only things keeping me
sustained. The more I tried to numb my mind to
the image of Nessa’s grief-stricken face the
moment I had told her it was me who had killed
her husband, the more it haunted me.
It was plain to see how much she had fallen in
love with Noah from the images he had
captured. There had also been a USB containing
a recording of Noah and Nessa having sex, and
her declaration of love to him. The fact that it
had been inside an envelope addressed to Denny
didn’t sit well with me. Noah had been a ruthless
bastard when it came to his job with the bureau,
but I hadn’t thought he would be capable of
sleaze and bribery. Yet, the contents of the file
revealed his intent to either blackmail Nessa or
expose their affair to Denny for some reason I
hadn’t figured out yet.
It was hard to admit to myself that I could
understand why Nessa had murdered my
brother. However, understanding wasn’t
justification. There was always a motive for
murder, and Nessa’s had been a classic case of a
scorned woman and her crime of passion.
It must have been hard for her to read all the
details of Noah’s findings. The fact that he was
about to tell her husband confused me as much
as the fact that Noah had refrained from
reporting Nessa’s existence to his superior.
When I had illicitly obtained Noah’s
confidential records after his death and found
out he had been undercover, planted deep inside
within the underbelly of Denny Barnes ‘family’
and the London mafia, it hadn’t been hard to
realise who had killed him – or so I had thought.
I’d also obtained the records for the
investigation into Noah’s murder. The London
mafia had all been at a party that night, all
vouched for by none other than the police
commissioner himself, therefore entirely
omitted from the investigation. I had put two
and two together and come up with five. My gut
had told me that Denny had found out Noah had
been undercover and killed him. Never in my
wildest imagination would I have considered
there was another explanation for his death.
I remembered back to the day I had shot
Denny Barnes. Like Nessa, I had managed to
keep a murder under wraps. Yeah, I was a
copper, but that wasn’t a reason to kill in cold
blood, and I wasn’t prepared to do fucking time
for that cunt. The many times Denny’s crimes
had sailed through the net at the MET was
galling. Because he had so many bent policemen
and women in his pocket I had to sit back and
watch him get off time and time again.
If I was honest, I was somewhat in awe of
Nessa. As the Bratva princess, as Denny Barnes
wife, as Noah’s killer, Nessa had so many secrets,
and she had been successful at hiding them all.
Until now.
Until the Game Master.
What was puzzling, though, was how the GM
had found out Nessa’s secrets. Even the force
had no record of her involvement with the
London mafia, and I would imagine only Nessa
knew about Noah’s death. Also, if Noah hadn’t
publicised the file, how the hell did the GM know
of its existence?
So how. How?
Day 15
13:46
Nessa
“It’s good to have you back, Nessa.”
Looking up from where I had been staring at
my cold coffee for the last ten minutes, Sally, one
of the theatre nurses, smiled down at me.
“Are you feeling better?”
I returned her smile and nodded. “Yes, thank
you.”
She frowned as she poured herself a drink.
“Have to say, you look like shit.”
Laughing, I gave her a wry look. “Yeah, this
flu is riding my ass.”
I liked Sally, she was an excellent nurse to
have onside, and she told it like it was. The
trouble with hospitals was that gossip was rife,
and Sally and I had soon discovered a mutual
like of each other because we didn’t entertain all
the nurse’s bullshit. Hell, I’d been the subject of
many of the speculations doing the rounds, but I
always shook my head and laughed it off. If only
they knew the real secrets in my life, not who
they thought I was sleeping with.
“Chose a right day to return,” she said,
yawning. “It’s been brutal today.”
“Tell me about it,” I replied with a yawn of
my own. “It hasn’t let up since I came on shift.”
“What time you off?”
“Not till ten,” I grumbled. I shouldn’t have
returned to work, and although I needed the
distraction, I couldn’t help but worry about Sam
and Carolyn. My father had put his security guys
on them, and although it was understandable to
be anxious leaving them, I still couldn’t shake
the feeling that trouble was on the horizon. My
sixth sense had been on high-alert since I’d
walked into the hospital, and I was continually
texting them both.
Caelan was another person to frequently
invade my thoughts. I’d toyed with the idea of
going to visit him, then in the next moment rage
overtook at what he’d done. Did this make us
quits? I wasn’t so sure. Now I knew Noah had
had a family, my soul ached at what I had robbed
from them. He’d been undercover, taken an
entirely new identity, and to me he had been a
single guy working for Denny.
Tears burned my eyes, and I forced them
back.
My pager bleeped, and I groaned.
“No rest for the wicked,” Sally moaned as she
placed her cup beside mine on the countertop
and we hurried to attend the emergency just
brought in.
My team were already working on the
patient when I entered the room. A woman I
presumed to be his wife was stood by the sink
watching her husband with a frantic look as she
spoke to Tom, one of my nurses, while I
scrubbed up.
“Are there any allergies we should know of?”
Tom asked, requesting the usual information as
he filled in a preliminary report.
She shook her head and covered her hand
with her mouth when a loud sob left her.
My heart always went out to them. Yet, their
suffering only made me work harder.
“Have you any idea what your husband’s
blood group is?” Tom asked, quickly adding,
“Just a precaution, Mrs French.”
“Umm.” She shook her head again. “I’m not
sure. A Negative…uhh, it could be B Positive…. I
don’t know!”
Anegativemindwillneverallowyoutobe
positive.
Blood.
A-
B+
The room rushed at me, and my breath
caught in my throat. My mind shuddered with a
specific memory, and recognition made my
knees buckle.
“What did you say?” I barked, scaring the
poor woman, and the rest of my team.
Her mouth moved, but she couldn’t form
words when I snatched hold of her upper arms
and shook her.
“Fuck!” I cried out as the world slipped off-
kilter. “Fuck!”
“Nessa?” Sally came into my view, worry and
confusion on her face.
“You need to take over!” I ordered Henry, my
assistant, as I peeled my gloves off, and broke
into a run.
Day 15
14:26
Caelan finally opened his front door after my
ten minutes of frantic knocking drove him nuts.
“Come in,” he mumbled when I pushed past
him.
Doing what we both did best, I grabbed his
bottle of whisky from the cupboard and poured
us a large measure.
He frowned, watching me with caution when
I downed the entire contents in one swallow and
refilled my glass. He didn’t look pleased to see
me. Then again, I didn’t particularly care.
“What’s going on?”
For a long moment, I struggled to speak. The
revelation that had hit me on the way over to
Caelan’s house was beyond implausible. Except I
knew it was the truth.
“Sit down,” I told him as I picked up his
cigarettes and lit one.
“I take it you’re out of alcohol and smokes,”
he grumbled but did as I asked and sat.
“I solved one of the clues.” My hand shook as I
brought the cigarette to my lips and drew a long
drag.
“Nessa?”
Wetting my lips, I moved my gaze to his.
“When Denny was twenty, he was badly beaten,”
I started.
Caelan gave me his full attention, but I
noticed him flinch and clench his jaw with the
mention of Denny.
Taking another pull on the cigarette, I blew
the smoke upwards and tried to settle my racing
heartbeat. “He had internal bleeding, and one of
his kidneys was completely destroyed. I rushed
him to the hospital, and as they were prepping
him for surgery, they asked me a few standard
questions. One of which was if I knew Denny’s
blood group.”
Caelan nodded and lit a smoke of his own.
“I thought it was A negative.”
“Okay.”
“I had it wrong. Luckily, they gave him O
negative as a precaution. It turned out that
Denny’s blood group was actually B positive.”
Caelan shrugged, his brow creasing slightly.
“I don’t understand what you’re trying to get at.”
Grabbing his notebook that was open on the
table, I circled the clue and underlined the
words,
‘Anegative mind will never allow you to be
positive.’
And then I circled the clue, ‘Blood’.
“Well, fuck me,” he breathed, leaning back in
his chair as he stared at the clue.
“But don’t you see, Caelan!” I said, tapping the
list of clues with the tip of the pen. “There’s only
one person who could have known this!”
Caelan had written the numbered clues down
separate from the word clues, and something
occurred to me when I scanned over them. I had
thought the numbers and words were linked and
would only reveal the answer if melded
together. But maybe the numbers were a
different clue.
Grabbing my phone, I quickly brought up the
calculator…
729+
11520+
0124349+
143+
7248+
16593=250582
I couldn’t breathe when I stared in horror at
the number, and a whimper broke from me as I
fell back into my chair.
Caelan looked at the number created from
the five clues and shook his head. “Two hundred
and fifty thousand, five hundred and eighty-two.
I don’t get it.”
“It’s not a number,” I choked out. “It’s a date.”
He blinked at me when my head shook from
side to side. The impossible had suddenly
become possible. Everything in the world felt
wrong and I couldn’t grasp hold of a single
thought from the hundreds that fled through my
mind.
“It’s Denny’s date of birth, Caelan. Twenty-
fifth of May 1982.”
“But he’s dead. I shot him…”
I froze. My mouth had suddenly become so
dry that I struggled to say the words. Vomit was
threatening to clog my throat, and I forced it
back down. “No!”
Taking a deep breath, his gaze on me was sad.
“I’m sorry, Nessa, but I did…”
“No, Caelan.” My voice wasn’t my own, and I
swiped at the river of tears that were cascading
down my face. “Denny wasn’t shot.”
“What the hell?” He shook his head, growing
angry. “I put a bullet in him, Nessa. I watched
him die, and then I walked away with a smile.”
“H E WASN’T SHOT!” I screamed. “He was
burned alive! His body was found in the boot of a
burnt-out car, and he was only identifiable by
his dental records!”
Blanching, he drew in a sharp breath and fell
backwards. Shaking his head from side to side
he looked to the floor as if it would help him
figure it out. “It wasn’t Denny’s body,” he uttered
when it all started to make sense. “I didn’t kill
him!”
As shell-shocked as Caelan, I lifted my gaze
and fixed my eyes on his. “I think we just figured
out who the Game Master is!”
Day 15
14:56
Caelan
Nessa stared at me. Tears spilt from her eyes,
and as if ashamed of them she swiftly wiped
them away.
“How could he do this?” Her voice was small,
and the amount of hurt glaring in her eyes made
my chest tighten. “The only two men I have ever
loved, and they both betrayed me.”
“You can’t think like that, babe. Those
thoughts will suffocate you.”
Taking another cigarette, she lit it up and
fixed her eyes on mine. “I loved your brother,
Caelan. So very much. And I know I can’t
possibly expect you to understand why…”
“I understand,” I told her. “Doesn’t mean I can
forgive, though. Whatever, whoever Noah was,
he was still my brother, and Oliver’s dad.”
Lowering her gaze, she nodded. “I had no
idea he was even married. To me, he was just
Noah Marsh. He lived in an apartment on Tervis
Lane. He told me his parents had been killed in a
car accident when he was eleven.” She shook
her head and twisted her lips in anger. “Jesus.
We got one drunk one night and he sobbed
telling me that story. I held him in my arms and
cried with him. So gullible.”
“Noah was always a good actor, that’s why he
made an excellent undercover agent.”
“You know what stumps me,” she uttered. I
wasn’t sure if she was talking to herself or me
when her eyes misted over, and she frowned.
“Why didn’t he hand over the file? He obviously
knew I had discovered his secret. So why did he
hide the file in a locker? And even more so, why
did he still go to that hotel where I had arranged
to meet him?”
“Even more puzzling is why he didn’t disclose
your existence.”
She blinked and frowned harder. “What do
you mean?”
“The MET has no intel on you at all. All the
information we have on Denny, and you aren’t
anywhere. It’s like you don’t exist.”
A small smile played on her lips, and she
sighed. “After being brought up by my father, I
was adamant I would have nothing ever to do
with that life again. My mother fled Russia after
Papa found out she was having an affair, and he
killed her lover. However.” She smiled wider.
“Papa had contacted Denny at the time and
asked him to look out for us.”
“And you eventually fell in love with Denny.”
Nodding, she laughed lightly. “God, I gave that
man a hard time. I wasn’t easy to deal with. A
rebellious teenager who hated her father,
consequently hating the man he’d asked to
watch over us. Especially a man who controlled
all of London’s organised crime.” Taking a sip of
whisky, she swirled the rest around the glass
and lost herself to the memories. “Eventually,
unable to resist his charms, I fell head over
heels. Denny was supportive of my vow to never
be involved in the firm. He sent me off to med
school, which was my passion, and encouraged
me to be my own person. Plus, there was the
risk factor with the business, and he saw it as
another way to keep me safe. If I couldn’t be
associated to him, none of his enemies would
come looking for me. There was speculation, of
course, but no one could ever prove my
connection to Denny.”
“Makes sense. So that’s how you know Frank
Johns.”
She nodded and glanced at me. “Obviously,
Frank isn’t my cousin. There has only ever been
a select few who knew about me. Since Denny’s
death, I hadn’t visited Connaughton Street, and
Frank had been gracious enough to leave me
alone. By rights, because Denny and I didn’t have
kids, the firm is technically mine. But I left it in
Frank’s hands and refused to have any
involvement. We were both happy with that
arrangement.”
“So, you’re the heir to both London and the
Russian mafia,” I stated with a snort.
“Lucky gal, eh?” she replied sarcastically.
“Throughout my life, I have managed to keep
away from it all. And now…” She froze as if she’d
had a sudden revelation. Huffing, she shook her
head and clenched her jaw. “You sly cunt!”
“Charmed.”
“Not you,” she muttered.
I jumped in surprise when she launched the
glass across the kitchen, and it shattered in the
sink. “That’s two you owe me now.”
Anger contorted her pretty face, and she shot
upright. “Idiot,” she mumbled as she ran her
hands through her short hair. I had to admit the
style suited her. After Kasym had hacked off the
length of her hair, she’d had it restyled. The new
cut accentuated her cheekbones and small nose,
subtly enhancing her beauty.
Dropping back down into the chair, she
covered her face with her hands and sobbed.
“Nessa?”
She held me tight when I moved my chair
next to hers and pulled her into my arms. The
crook of my neck muffled her cries, but they still
sounded loud and haunted in my ears.
“Tell me,” I pressed gently.
Wiping her nose with the back of her hand,
she sat back and looked at me. “Frank. Denny
knew that I would go to Frank for help.”
Nodding, I reached out and wiped her tears
away with the pad of my thumb. “And?”
Shaking her head, she swallowed rigorously
and covered her mouth with a hand as if she was
about to be sick. “I knew to get you through that
street alive, I would need Frank’s grace. We
made a deal. A deal that Denny knew Frank
would demand.”
Anxiousness slithered like a bug under my
skin, and my heart stilled in preparation for her
coming revelation.
“What deal, Nessa?”
Her cheeks paled, and she choked on another
sob. “He gets me.”
Narrowing my eyes, I scowled at her. “What
do you mean he gets you?”
“In two weeks, I’m due to marry Frank.”
My eyes shot wide, and I reared backwards.
“What the fuck?”
“It was the only way I could guarantee your
life!” she argued. “In return for your life, he gets
mine.”
“Jesus Christ!” I wasn’t sure if I wanted to
drop at her feet and idolise her or smack her one
for being so stupid.
Scoffing, she snatched a cigarette and slid it
between her wet lips. “Don’t you get what a
catch I am, Caelan? Not only does Frank get me,
he gets full control of the firm, and he also gets
the Bratva if anything happens to my father and
me. Denny knew this.”
“This is just crazy. You can’t marry him.”
“I made a deal, Caelan.”
“Bullshit, you made a fucking deal! What the
hell were you thinking?”
“You selfish prick!” she yelled. Shooting
upright, she slammed her hands on the table and
thrust her face into mine. “I did it to keep you
alive! Thanks for the gratitude!”
Grabbing her bag from where she’d flung it
on the table, she muttered something under her
breath and left me to reel in her news alone.
Day 15
17:11
Nessa
“What are you doing?”
I glanced from the mass of paperwork
surrounding me to Papa when he walked into
my living room. He was scanning the mess
covering my carpet and then looked to me with
an expression on his face that told me he
thought I’d gone slightly mad. Perhaps I had.
“I need you to do me a favour, Papa.”
“Anything, darling.” Lowering himself down
on to the floor next to me, he gave me a soft
smile.
“I want you to take Carolyn and Sam, and
Caelan’s family, somewhere safe. I need you to
do this alone and tell no one of their
whereabouts. Including me.”
His brow creased with confusion, but he
nodded. “Consider it done. When?”
“As soon as you can arrange a safe house for
them.”
Nodding, he returned his gaze to the papers
encompassing us both. “What are you looking
for?”
“Denny’s autopsy report.”
“Why?”
“Because I need the name of the fraudulent
bastard who signed it.”
Papa stiffened. “What’s going on,
matryoshka?”
As if the truth physically pained me, I felt the
words stab my heart, and I winced. “Denny is the
Game Master.”
Only silence greeted me before Papa started
to laugh. When I quirked an eyebrow and stared
him out, his laughter abruptly halted. “You’re
serious.”
“Unfortunately, I am.”
Anger flared in his eyes, and I was reminded
of who he was when he fisted his hands, trying
to calm himself. The room seemed to shrink
around me when his rage swelled. “Are you
sure?”
“Yes.”
“And what are your intentions with the
coroner?”
“I need a lead, any lead I can get, Papa. My
best bet is to start with him.”
“You’re going after Denny?” Looking worried,
I knew he thought it wasn’t one of my better
ideas. Yet I wasn’t his little girl anymore.
“Damn right I am. You don’t know who I am
now. I can look after myself.”
“I don’t doubt that for a single second,
Vanessa. However, Denny has proved how
hellbent on revenge he is. He wants his
vengeance, and the promise of retribution fuels
even the meekest of people. Hell.” Guilt crossed
his face, and he looked away. “I sure know how
that feels.”
Shuffling around, so I was facing him, I took
both of his hands in mine. “I need their bodies,
Papa. I need to bury my parents.”
Poor choice of words and he flinched like I
had struck him.
“Stuart was a good step-father. I’m sorry, but
I won’t lie to you.”
“And I will always be indebted to him for
taking such good care of you. It still doesn’t alter
the fact that it should have been me who looked
after you, watched you grow. I am proud of the
woman you have become. Your mother was an
amazing woman, and you are verification of
that.”
Leaning up, I placed a small kiss on his cheek.
“Thank you.” Such a tiny thing brought the
biggest smile. He beamed at me.
For such a long time I had hated the person
my father was and what he represented.
However, as much as I had tried to distance
myself from that life, I now had to admit that it
was in my blood.
“I still worry about you going after Denny,
though, Vanessa. He’s tough, he’s proved that…”
Pressing a finger to his lips, I cut him off. “You
forget one thing, Papa.” He remained silent,
waiting for me to go on. “If I can kill a man that
owned half of my heart, imagine what I can do to
the man that holds the other half and my
complete soul.”
The darkness inside him fired bright in the
deep ocean blue of his eyes. I had on numerous
occasion seen that very look in the depths of my
own eyes. For the first time, I was grateful my
father had passed down the gene that gave me
his strength and courage.
“There is one more thing,” he said with a
smirk. “You also have family behind you.”
Pain ruptured my soul when I thought of
Mum and Stuart, and how much I missed them.
“I only have you now, Papa.”
He shook his head and lay his palm on my
cheek softly. “No, you don’t, matryoshka. You
have the whole of the fucking Bratva. Your true
family.”
“You also have the whole of the MET, and
me.” Papa and I spun round to the sound of
Caelan’s voice. He stood looking at me with a
smile as soft as my father.
“I’m forgiven then?” I dared to ask.
Sighing, he shrugged. “Not yet. But I need to
end this as much as you do, so until Denny
Barnes is gone, I call a truce.”
Nodding briskly, I blew out a breath and held
up Denny’s autopsy report. “So, I think we need
to pay David Lloyd-Jones a little visit.”
Both my father and Caelan grinned.
“One more thing.” I looked to Caelan, puzzled.
“How the hell did you get in? The door was
locked.”
Rolling his eyes, he slowly shook his head at
me. Pulling out the lockpick from his pocket, he
dangled it between his fingers. “Some of us are
skilled, babe.”
My father snorted when I told Caelan to fuck
off under my breath.
Day 18
10:22
“I’m sorry, Mr Lloyd-Jones is busy at the
moment. If I can take a name…”
Caelan shook his head at the receptionist and
flashed his badge at her. “Now, love.”
She looked a little flustered, her eyes
switching between Caelan and me before she
sighed and pushed her chair back. “If you’ll
follow me, Detective.”
Caelan smirked at me when I curled my lip in
distaste, my focus on the perfect arse in the
short tight skirt that was walking in front of us.
“Jealousy is not pretty on you, babe.”
“Jealous?” I tutted at him. “Of her? No. I just
think her skirt is a little too short. It won’t get
her guy’s respect, you know.”
“No, but I bet it gets her plenty of dick!”
Caelan quietly retorted.
The receptionist forced a smile in my
direction before swinging a seductive one
Caelan’s way. She opened a door and gestured
for us to enter. “I’ll let Mr Lloyd-Jones know
you’re here. If you’d like to take a seat, he
shouldn’t be long.”
Caelan smiled at her. “Thank you, love.”
I frowned when she pulled a business card
from her skirt pocket and held it out to him in
her long fingers. “My pleasure.” Leaning towards
him, my eyes widened when she whispered in
his ear, “And yes, this arse does get me plenty of
dick. Hopefully another very soon. Call me.”
“No one can accuse her of being a
wallflower,” I scoffed when he took the card
from her and slid it into his jacket pocket as he
watched her walk away.
I looked around Lloyd-Jones’ office. It was
furnished with the usual stuff you’d find in any
regular office. However, Caelan spotted it at the
exact same time I did. “I take it that’s his.”
I pursed my lips and stepped closer to the
enormous photograph on the wall. Lloyd-Jones
was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt on the deck of
a yacht. Stood beside him was the police
commissioner, Harry Parsons, also dressed in
civvies. “He also has friends in high places.
Parsons was also in Denny’s pocket.”
“Makes sense why when I went to check the
case records for Denny’s death, how they had
evaporated.”
I scoffed and shook my head. “So, I think we
may have to pay your boss a little visit too.”
“He’s not my boss, Nessa. He likes to think so,
but no.”
I chuckled. I had a feeling Caelan’s only boss
was himself. “So, you don’t think that Lloyd-
Jones isn’t currently on the phone to his best
friend, panicking at the announcement of our
arrival?”
“Oh, I know he is. But, makes it all the better
to watch them panic.”
Strolling across to Caelan, I leaned in to
whisper, “Then it’s a good job I got my father to
tap his phone.”
Quirking an eyebrow at me, he smiled and
nodded. “I underestimated you, Dr Griffiths.”
“You forget, I know how to play the organised
crime game extremely well, Detective
Inspector.”
The door opened, and we both turned to
watch a somewhat flushed coroner enter his
office. He glanced from Caelan to me, and I
sighed smugly when the colour drained from his
cheeks.
“Oh, you remember me then, Mr Lloyd-
Jones.”
I lowered my face to hide my laugh when he
completely ignored me and moved his gaze to
Caelan. “How can I help you, Detective?”
“I’m investigating a death from a few years
ago. Dennis Barnes. I believe he was one of your
cases.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Lloyd-Jones answered a
little too quickly.
Grinning, Caelan perched on the edge of the
desk and looked at me. “Have you got the report,
darling?”
I had to bite the tip of my tongue when I saw
Lloyd-Jones falter slightly with Caelan’s
endearment. Casting Caelan a sweet smile, I
took the report from my bag and handed it to
him.
“Perhaps this will jog your memory.”
Lloyd-Jones took it from him and quickly
scanned it. There was no surprise on his face,
and that was probably because he had been
expecting us.
“I have a lot of cases, Detective. And an
autopsy from four years ago is not one I would
specifically remember.”
“Really?” Caelan clicked his tongue. “So, then
you must falsify documents on a regular basis.”
Lloyd-Jones had the grace to look affronted.
“Excuse me!”
“Well, you doctored Denny Barnes autopsy,
and you don’t recall. That leads me to believe
that you do it often. I mean who would forget
fixing the results of a corpse, specifically a
corpse that didn’t belong to whom it was
supposed to anyway?” He looked to me, raising
an eyebrow. “You’re a doctor, darling. Would
you remember tampering with official
paperwork at the hospital?”
“Oh, definitely. Not something someone’s
ever likely to forget. I mean, it’s a criminal
offence isn’t it, honey?”
“An imprisonable offence as well. But then, I
suppose if you’ve got friends in high enough
places you can forget about all the reports
you’ve doctored and grin at the money when it
enters your bank account.”
Caelan reached into his jacket pocket and
pulled out some paperwork. I couldn’t hold back
the grin when he winked at me.
Picking up the pen from the desk, he ran it
down the bank statement and clicked his tongue
when he came across a specific credit. “Well
look at this. There’s an anonymous donation the
day after the Denny Barnes autopsy.” Shaking
his head slowly with disapproval, Caelan tucked
the statement back into his pocket and stared
hard at Lloyd-Jones.
“I… I don’t know what you’re insinuating…”
“Whoa!” I exclaimed but remained rooted to
the desk when Caelan slammed Lloyd-Jones up
against his door.
“You’re a corrupt bastard. And I don’t care
about your friendship with Parsons. Believe me,
when I bring you down, I will take him down
with you!”
Lloyd-Jones spluttered when Caelan pressed
him harder.
“I suggest you hit redial on that phone of
yours and warn the man who pays you that I’m
coming for him.”
Dropping his hold on Lloyd-Jones, Caelan
straightened his jacket sleeves and turned to me.
“Okay, sweetie?”
I inhaled at length and straightened my
shoulders. “Yes, I need some fresh air. There’s a
smell of bullshit in this room, it’s not becoming.”
Snatching the report back from him, I
couldn’t help but smile when Lloyd-Jones
remained on the floor.
Bending at the waist, I brought my face close
to his. “Oh, and a heads up, Mr Lloyd-Jones,
Denny Barnes has been reincarnated. And,
although he paid you enough cash to buy
yourself that pretty little yacht, I think he may
need to start burying all the evidence there is.
And take a running guess where he will start?”
The small bubble of smugness that popped in
my belly was bested when Caelan made a gun
with his fingers and shot Lloyd-Jones right
between his eyes before dramatically blowing
the imaginary smoke away. “I’d say it’s been a
pleasure, but I don’t falsify shit.”
“Where the hell did you get his bank
statement from?” I asked Caelan quietly when
he closed the door behind us.
Giving me a sideways glance, the corner of
his mouth twisted upwards when he extracted
the paperwork back from his inside pocket. “You
mean this?”
Chuckling to myself when I saw Caelan’s
details at the top of the paper instead of Lloyd-
Jones’, I elbowed him gently. “And you tell me
you’d never bend the rules.”
“I haven’t!” he argued with an arrogant smirk.
“Obtaining Lloyd-Jones’ bank statement without
the necessary paperwork would be bending the
rules. I merely insinuated…”
“Okay, Columbo. Enough,” I laughed as I
followed my sneaky partner out.
Day 19
11:54
Frank gave me the same reaction that my
father had. He laughed.
When he realised I was deadly (no pun
intended) serious, he poured us both a
substantial amount of whisky and fell into a
chair. “Jesus, Ness.”
“Uh-huh.”
He looked like he was going to vomit, and I
understood why. Denny had resurfaced for the
sole purpose of vengeance on Caelan and me.
However, none of us knew if he wanted his firm
back.
“I doubt he’ll take it from you,” I tried to
placate him, reading his thoughts.
“Oh, he won’t succeed in taking the business
back, Ness, I can promise you that. But you know
what he does win from me?”
I frowned and shook my head.
He scoffed. “You do realise this means
technically you’re still married.”
Oh, well shit!
I didn’t have words. My mouth popped open
and closed a few times, and giving in, I knocked
back my drink and gestured for another one.
“Yeah,” Frank sighed, the look of defeat in his
eyes stinging me more than I thought it would. I
hadn’t wanted to marry Frank, and although
he’d had many motives for requesting my hand,
so to speak, he had always been kind to me. He’d
kept mine and Denny’s secret for many years,
and I knew if I had ever needed him he would
have been there.
Draining his glass, he narrowed his eyes at
me. A twist of anxiety pulled in my belly when
he leaned his elbows on the table and stared
straight into me. “If I help you take care of
Denny once and for all, will our deal still stand?”
This did surprise me, and my mouth fell open.
“But you were always so fiercely loyal to
Denny.”
He laughed, except it wasn’t in humour. “Yes.
I was. But that was before he faked his death,
and then tried to take you out.”
Pressure crushed my lungs when I saw
through the sentence and recognition slapped
me in the face. “You didn’t want to marry me just
for the firm.”
Snatching up the bottle of whisky, he poured
us more. “You were always so in love with
Denny, and then Noah…”
“What the fuck? You knew about Noah?”
“Of course, I fucking knew!” he bellowed.
“You seriously thought that spiking his food
would subdue him enough for you to drown
him?”
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. Nothing
would work. Not my mind, not my vocal chords,
not even my heart dared to take a beat when his
revelation saw my soul shift from within me.
Shaking his head, he blew out a breath and
ran his fingers through his hair. “Nessa, the first
thing you need to understand is, Noah fucking
Fen was always one step ahead of you. You don’t
think he knew that you had found out about him
being undercover? He was the best copper the
MET ever had!”
“I didn’t kill him,” was all I could manage to
say, and even that was meek and mild.
“No,” he admitted. “No, you didn’t. But I did.”
He lit a cigarette and passed it to me. Taking
a long pull of nicotine, I swiped at the tears that
were flowing down my face.
Sitting in the seat next to me, he took the
cigarette and drew on it. “Your food didn’t
paralyse him, it was the lethal dose of botulism I
injected into his neck before you even got there
that did. When you got to the hotel and
presumed Noah to be just unconscious…”
“He was already dead,” I finished for him.
He nodded and then shook his head. “He was
going to send that video to Denny. We both
know, as Noah would have, what Denny would
have done about that.”
“I wouldn’t be sat here now, that’s for sure.”
“Exactly.”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I shook
my head. “How long, Frank?”
“How long have I been more loyal to you than
Denny?” He laughed, but it was laced with pain.
“Right from the very fucking beginning.”
I refilled our glasses, sat back and lifted my
glass to his. “I’m not planning on being Mrs
Vanessa Barnes, or even Griffiths for long. I still
plan on becoming Mrs Johns, as was our original
deal.”
His eyes widened, but so did his smile. I
swore I saw the glisten of a tear in his eyes when
he knocked his glass against mine, and said, “I’ll
drink to that… fiancé.”
Day 20
07:51
“Can I ask you something?”
Caelan looked at me over his morning coffee
and nodded.
“How come you haven’t taken this to The
Yard?”
“You mean why haven’t I reported all this
bullshit?”
“Yes,” I answered. If Caelan was as straight as
he reckoned, then why hadn’t he gone by the
book on this.
Sighing, he looked towards the kitchen
window. “There are more bent cops in the force
than you could ever imagine, and it’s ugly in
there. I don’t just mean Parsons, either. You can
only ever trust yourself. Do you really think my
commanding officer will allow me to put a bullet
in Denny Barnes – for real this time?”
Knowing it was a hypothetical question I
remained silent.
“No. He’d have me haul his ass into the
station. And, believe me, it wouldn’t be me that
received recognition for his arrest. Another
thing.” He plucked a cigarette from the packet
and lit it. We had become dependent on nicotine,
alcohol, and each other for the past three weeks,
yet I didn’t care. I needed the comfort, the
oblivion, and the strength each respective one
gave me. “Reporting it would implicate you, and
you wouldn’t be under the MET’s radar any
longer.”
“You haven’t reported it because of me?”
“Just one factor, Nessa. There are others, as
I’ve explained. This is personal. Denny wants
you to pay for Noah, and me for shooting him. He
made this about us, and I’m finishing it with us.”
Setting my cup down, I proceeded to light my
own cigarette and sighed. “I have something to
tell you.” He waited for me to go on. I wasn’t
sure I could, but swallowing back my nerves, I
told him the latest of my secrets. One among
many. “This isn’t a lie or even an excuse. It’s…
Jesus, I don’t know what it is.” Fixing my gaze on
his, I made sure he could see the conviction in
my soul while he heard it in my voice. “I didn’t
kill Noah.”
Bafflement creased his brow. “What?”
“I won’t go into the specifics, but I had
poisoned Noah’s food, hoping to knock him
unconscious…”
“So, you could drag him into the bath and
drown him! I know how he died, I read the
autopsy report,” he added bitterly.
“I deserve your hostility, Caelan, I understand
that. But you also killed my husband or at least
tried to. Remember that.”
He sighed but nodded once, acknowledging
what I was saying. “Go on.”
“It turns out that Frank beat me to it. He
found out about mine and Noah’s affair and that
he was going to tell Denny. He went to the hotel
before me and injected him with a dose of
botulism.”
“So, when you got there, and you thought
Noah was just unconscious…”
“He was already dead. Yeah.” Taking a drink
of coffee to wet my dry mouth I shook my head
in sadness. “I loved Noah, Caelan. I really did. I
thought he felt the same way. I saw it in the way
he looked at me, in every one of his smiles. I felt
it in his touch and heard it in the words he said
to me. I don’t understand. If he hated me that
much, why didn’t he at least turn me in? It
doesn’t make sense.”
“I know. It’s something I’ve been trying to
figure out too. From all the images in the file, I
have seen the way he looked at you. I saw it in
the video the way he touched you. He was either
an outstanding actor, or he really was in love
with you.”
“I guess now we’ll never know.”
Getting up to make more coffee, Caelan
flicked the kettle on and then turned back to me.
“We need a fresh pair of eyes and an unsullied
mind.”
“What do you mean?”
Clicking his tongue in thought, he took a deep
breath and stared straight at me. “You asked me
to trust you when you brought your father in.”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Then I need you to trust me now.”
“You’re thinking of recruiting?”
“Yeah. Jonathon’s been a confidant for many
years, Ness. I trust him. But I still need your okay
for me to do this. We’ve been in this together
from day one, and although you forgot about
that and didn’t trust me with your secrets, it’s
imperative that I have your agreement on this.”
Chastised once more, I nodded my head. “The
one thing that has never faltered throughout
these last twenty days is my faith in you. If you
trust this guy, then I do too.”
“Okay. I’ll give him a call.”
I wasn’t sure if I had a bad feeling about this,
or if I were hoping he would prove to be an
asset. However, time was running out. Denny
was smart, and he’d been planning this for a long
time. But it was now that I was more interested
in. And the sooner we found my husband, the
sooner I could bury him, once and for all.
Day 20
15:45
“I should piss on your grave,” I told the
headstone that had my husband’s name carved
into it. “Except, it isn’t really you in there.”
Snow had fallen since mine and Caelan’s
conversation that morning, and the thin
covering of white that blanketed the ugliness of
Yew Tree Cemetery did nothing to lift my
melancholy.
I wasn’t even sure why I had come. Whenever
I felt sad or needed to talk about something that
was bothering me, I would visit Denny’s grave. I
supposed it was a hard habit to break, even if the
grave no longer contained my husband’s burned
remains.
I remembered back to the day of the funeral,
how hard it had been to linger towards the back
and act like just an ordinary woman that knew
of Denny Barnes. Frank had been the one to
console me later, in the privacy of the apartment
Denny had purchased whenever I had to pretend
to be a single woman.
Four months later, I had returned his
kindness and held him when he had cried over
the death of his father. Frank never showed
emotion to any of his men, he saw it as a
weakness, but the news of his father’s passing
had been hard on him. He’d turned up at my
apartment late one night, drunk and
heartbroken.
Turning my attention back to the grave, I
scowled. “Where the hell are you? It’s been
twelve days now. You were never a patient man,
Denny Barnes.” I snorted. “Although I have to
hand it to you. You waited four years for this.”
“Ness.”
I turned around and gave Frank a smile.
“Hey.”
“Thought I’d find you here. You always had to
talk to Denny if something was bothering you.”
“Old habits die hard, eh?”
Pulling out a small silver flask, he took a swig
and handed it to me. Taking a swallow, I
relished the heat in my belly and looked to the
grave. “When this is over, I need to give this guy
a proper burial, Frank. I can’t imagine what his
loved ones are going through. At least, in a way, I
got to say goodbye to Denny. They haven’t had
that privilege.”
“I’ll sort it.”
Frank Johns was a towering machine of
muscle and ink. He intimidated the strongest of
men, and he was merciless when the need arose.
Yet, I saw underneath it all. He had always been
gentle and considerate to me. He’d been Denny’s
right hand since they progressed through
childhood and adulthood together, and he had
protected his boss and friend with his life. Many
times, Frank had taken a bullet for Denny,
literally, and I’d grown to admire his loyalty as
well as value his friendship. I could marry worse
men, and at the end of the day, I knew in my soul
that Frank would protect me just as devotedly as
he had my husband.
“I take it you’re not here to tell me you found
Denny?”
He shook his head. “No, sorry. It’s rather
delicate.”
“Well look at that, Frank Johns, nervous.”
He scowled playfully and nudged me with his
shoulder. His deep blush endeared me to him
even more. “We have an appointment with the
registrar.”
“Oh.”
Grimacing, he diverted his gaze. “Technically,
on paper anyway, you’re still widowed…”
“But it wouldn’t feel right marrying you while
Denny is still alive.”
“Oh, no.” He shook his head. “We’re not
getting married yet, but we have to see the
registrar. Just an informal meeting thing. I
promise we won’t proceed with the wedding
until Denny Barnes is in a grave of his own.”
“Then lead the way, fiancé.”
His grin was full, and I couldn’t help but
match it with one of my own. “Do you not want
to visit your father’s grave while we’re here? Is
he even buried here?” I asked, glancing around,
and feeling sorry that I hadn’t a clue, really,
about anything in Frank’s life.
“I saw him before coming to find you.”
The cemetery was quiet as we took the path
back to the carpark. It was getting late, and the
setting sun was casting an eerie glow around us.
I was momentarily taken back to our third
game, the midnight race to dig up a body and
save my step-father.
My heart ached as thoughts pressed against
my mind. If someone had told me six months ago
that I would be the kind of person to desecrate a
grave, then I would have laughed in their faces.
Yet, now I had. I hadn’t even bothered to look at
the poor person’s name, my actions on autopilot
that night and centred solely on freeing Stuart.
I meandered off the path and took the one
that led to the righthand corner of the
graveyard. The old yew tree loomed in the near
distance, guiding me back to the exact spot I
needed to apologise and pay my respects.
“The other path is a quicker route out, Ness,”
Frank stated, looking a little confused.
“Just another grave I need to pay my respects
to before we leave.”
He nodded and shrugged, holding out an arm
for me to lead the way.
Goosebumps raced across my skin the closer
to the grave we got. I had the image in my head
of the corpse rising from the ground to make me
pay for what I had done.
Approaching the site, my footing stuttered
when I saw that the grave had been refilled. I
shouldn’t have expected anything else, really,
but for some reason, I had thought I would find a
hole in the ground as we had left it that night.
When I finally reached the grave, and I read
the man’s name, I realised exactly how that key
had got in the coffin with him.
And I finally understood exactly how fucking
foolish I had been.
Day 20
16:00
Caelan
Jonathon threw the file down onto his coffee
table and dropped back onto his sofa, finally
directing his attention back to me. “Why the hell
didn’t you come to me sooner, Caelan?” Lifting
my brows and giving him long stare, he huffed
and nodded. “Jesus. I don’t know what to say.”
“Like something out of a movie, eh?”
“A thriller at its best. And your tech guys
didn’t get anything from the iPad feed?”
“Not a thing. Or from the cameras that the GM
had set up around my house. He’s done his
homework.”
He nodded and wiggled his jaw from left to
right, a habit he had when he was deep in
thought. “You swept your girl’s house for any
kit?”
“Her father did. Clean as a whistle, which
surprises me.”
“Oh, yeah.” He snorted. “How could we forget
who the hell she is related to.” His tone was
bitter, and I regarded him with narrow eyes.
“I came to you for help, not judgement, Jon.”
Holding up his hands, he shook them. “Not for
me to give, mate. I’m just coming at it from all
angles.”
“I get that, but what I need is a new angle.”
Rotating his finger around aimlessly in the
air, he stared at the ceiling but spoke to me. “No,
what we need is to flip it all on its head. We need
to look at the opposite of how it would appear.
Say, then, that those images and that recording
of Vanessa and Noah are real, Caelan. What does
that tell you?”
“That he did love her.”
He nodded hard at me, trying to get my mind
to roll with his.
“And if that was the case…” My brain was
trying to latch onto something, but it was too
exhausting. That, luckily, was why I brought
Jonathon in.
Standing, he started to pace around the room.
“If your brother genuinely did love her, then he
certainly wouldn’t expose their affair to her
husband. He didn’t expose her to Sergeant
Norwood because he was in love with her, not
because he was trying to blackmail her!”
“So, all the evidence in the file…”
“Wasn’t Noah’s file at all. But someone else’s.
Someone who needed Noah out of the picture.
You have been looking at this game as if
someone has been trying to kill both you and
Vanessa Barnes, or at least is hell bent on
revenge. But…” He stopped frantically pacing
and spun around to face me, although I wasn’t
sure he was seeing me. “Take you out of the
equation. You’re just collateral damage.”
“Will you stop being so damn cryptic!”
“Okay, so let’s get this straight. Your girl was
married to Denny Barnes, and her father is
Maksim Alexeev, making her technically the
next in line to not only take over her husband’s
firm but the Russian fucking mafia as well!”
I nodded, peering at him when I knew he was
baffled with something. “What are you thinking,
Jon?”
“That this makes her one hell of a prize.”
“And one hell of a target. Yeah, I know all
this...”
“No.” He shook his head and pointed a finger
at me. “You’re looking for a different angle don’t
forget, Caelan. Well, I’m giving you one.”
“I don’t follow.”
Exhaling slowly, he fixed me with a stare that
made my skin prickle. “What if the Game Master
wasn’t trying to get rid of her, or isn’t hellbent of
vengeance either?”
“Jesus, spit it out!”
“What if,” he growled, frustrated at my idiocy.
“It wasn’t a game to get her out of the picture…”
“But get her in it!” I finished when it all
clicked into place.
How could we have been so stupid?
“Jesus! Fuck!”
“Jesus. Fuck. Indeed,” Jonathon echoed. “Now
you’ve just found your Game Master!”
Day 20
16:10
Nessa
GrahamFrankJohns
Belovedhusbandandfather
12.03.1958–28.04.2015
I didn’t turn around. I knew I would vomit if I
had to lay my eyes on him. “Why, Frank?”
Apart from nausea, I was calmer than I
thought. Whether it was because I knew it was
finally the end of this stupid bloody game, or
whether it was because it was the end of me, I
couldn’t tell you. What I did know though, was
how much Frank’s betrayal hurt me, but not for
me, for Denny.
“Not really hard to work out, is it, Dr
Griffiths?”
Keeping my concentration on the epitaph of
the man who had raised not only a traitor but a
cold and calculated man of the lowest level, I
shook my head sadly. “You wanted to marry me
for London?”
I shivered when he stepped up beside me and
I felt the heat of his breath on the nape of my
neck. “It was the only way to get you to come to
me for a favour. You’re a stubborn woman at
best.”
“After Denny’s death, I stepped down and let
you run the firm, Frank. You killed my mother
and Stuart. If you had come to me, I would have
signed the whole thing over to you. Their lives
were worth more than this rotten business
anyway!”
“Oh, I want more than just London. I deserve
your beloved Russia too.”
“You deserve to die a slow death! That’s what
happens to traitors!” I spat, finally turning on
him. “So, you orchestrated all this just so I would
marry you?”
He smirked, but only answered with a shrug.
“You never heard of divorce? Because when I
found out that this was all you…” I took a step
back. “Jesus, that’s why you made it all point to
Denny. You didn’t think I would ever find out.
Did you?”
Crossing his arms over his chest, his cold
expression made me want to set him on fire to
prepare him ready for hell. “Why the hell did
you think I took out Noah?”
Like a baseball bat to the temple, the truth hit
me so hard that I stumbled backwards and had
to cling onto the headstone for support. “Oh,
God! It was you who planted that file for me to
find. Noah wasn’t going to reveal our affair to
Denny at all. You snuck into Noah’s apartment
while I ‘drown’ him and hid it in that locker in
the tube station to cover your tracks.”
“I told you I knew you had more intellect
than Fen. Yes, I made that video of the two of
you, and took the photos.” He curled his lip as if
disgusted. “You assumed Noah had believed his
cover had been blown, when in actual fact, he
didn’t have a clue. I needed you to see who he
really was, because despite what you think,
Nessa, he was as bent as they come.”
“But he still loved me. You turned all this
onto him. You led me to believe that he hadn’t
loved me.”
“Whether he loved you or not, he was still a
slimy pig that was basking in mud that would
eventually clog his treacherous lungs. You make
out you’re all holier than I and dare to call me a
traitor. You had an affair! Denny loved you,
Nessa! He did everything he did for you! Don’t
you stand there judging me!”
“You actually believe that? You stupid prick.
Denny held your hand through life…”
“No!” he screamed, bringing his face an inch
from mine “It was my brawn that made every
man fear us. It was my muscle that nurtured the
firm!”
“It was Denny’s brains that built the firm he
invested his life into,” I yelled back. “It was
Denny who negotiated deals. It was Denny who
put in the blood, sweat and tears to give the
business a reputation every other gang lord
feared. It was his choices that made the firm
grow to be untouchable! And it was Denny who
allowed you to join him. He gave you a life! And
he sure as hell didn’t owe you shit!”
Sucking air through my teeth, I instinctively
pressed a hand to my cheekbone when he
punched me in the face and sent me sprawling
across his father’s final resting place. I should
have seen it coming, but my reflexes were in as
much shock as my brain.
“You know,” I said, wiping the blood that
trickled down my face from where his ring had
cut me. “I really thought that it was Denny
because the Game Master knew personal stuff
no one else could.”
“That’s exactly what I made you think.”
“But you know why you knew all Denny’s
secrets, Frank?” I stood up and faced him off.
“Because you were his best friend, and he
trusted you enough to confide in you about
every aspect of his life, not just business!”
Sorrow seeped into my bones as I turned to face
the part of the graveyard where my husband
truly was buried. “In the end, we all betrayed
him.”
“Denny was getting soft. If I knew what Noah
was, he should have. But he was too invested in
you and in greasing palms. Instead of achieving
what we wanted by making other firms fear us,
he kissed their damn feet.”
“Because that’s who Denny was and how he
worked. He’d rather deal with shit by talking it
out first, try to establish an agreement. You and I
both know that if that didn’t work, only then
would he revert to violence. He just preferred
neutral ground first! You always were a time
bomb waiting to go off. Denny knew it too.”
“You think I didn’t know he was pushing me
out?”
“That he was preparing to downgrade you?
Oh, yeah, he knew you knew. The thing was, he
didn’t care whether you had found out or not.
You were becoming selfish, greedy.”
His icy stare chilled my bones more than the
drop in the December temperature, and I
shivered.
“Why the hell do you think Denny was found
burned, Ness? Caelan shot Denny in the back.
That’s the sign of a coward, right there!” He took
a step closer to me, pressing me back against the
headstone again. “The fool then walked away
and left him. Rule number one, always check
your prey is dead before you leave it for the
vultures to find.”
Realisation made me freeze, the impact of
what he was saying ramming my breath back
down my throat.
“Denny faked death so Caelan would walk
away, and then he managed to call me to go and
help him. He was in an abandoned warehouse
and was bleeding badly when I got there. He was
handed to me on a plate, Missy. Such a perfect
opportunity for me to begin my plan to take over
the firm.”
“God, Frank.” Tears scorched my face, and I
sank into the dirt of the freshly filled hole in the
ground. “I almost wish it had been Denny that
had done this.”
Laughing, he bent and stared me straight in
the eye. “And you said that Denny was the clever
one. Wouldn’t you agree that it takes a genius to
plan The Game that you didn’t win?”
“You once told me there’s a fine line between
genius and crazy. Which one are you?”
Years of hurt, years of denying what was in
my blood. Years of struggling to remain who I
thought I was, who I felt I should be. Yet, in the
end, it was who I was that would be my actual
downfall. I had fought for so long that, in the end,
none of it had mattered at all.
The Game Master had won.
I didn’t fight any longer. I was tired of
fighting, and when Frank pulled a syringe from
his pocket and stabbed it into the side of my
neck, I welcomed the end square.
Day 20
19:57
Caelan
Maksim Alexeev was a legend in his own
right. Take his daughter away from him, and he
became a force to be reckoned with.
By the time Taylor Williamson and his men
had a chance to even lay a finger on their own
weapons, Maksim’s men had the muzzle of a gun
pointed at each and every head in The King and
County.
“I’m not in the mood for pleasantries,”
Maksim growled at Taylor, his own gun rammed
underneath Taylor’s chin. I wouldn’t dispute the
fact that I got a certain amount of satisfaction
from seeing the hint of fear behind his eyes.
Taylor gave him a nod, and Maksim removed
his gun. Gesturing to his men, he ordered them
to stand down, but I saw how they remained
fixed entirely on the men they stood beside.
“Where is your boss?”
Taylor frowned but answered Maksim. “I
haven’t seen him since yesterday.”
“Call him.”
Without hesitation, Taylor took out his phone
and did as he was asked. “He’s not answering.”
“Surprise, surprise,” Maksim uttered through
clenched teeth. He was like a ticking bomb, the
frustration in him building up, and I knew it
wouldn’t be long before he exploded. “Any idea
where the treacherous cunt may be?”
Taylor reared back, his eyes widening with
Maksim’s description of his boss. “Look, mate, I
dunno what this is about but don’t come in here
threatening…”
Before Taylor had a chance to finish his
sentence, Maksim had spun him around and
locked his arm around his throat. His gun was
pressed so hard into his temple that he’d leave
an indentation in his skin. The Bratva moved as
one, fluid with their boss. Each gun lifted at
lightning speed and was trained on their target
before I could take a breath. It was easy to see
why the Russian mafia held the respect of so
many organised crime units.
“You think that was a threat?” Maksim
snarled in Taylor’s ear. “Then you’ll love this.
Frank has my daughter, and I class that as not
only disrespectful to me but fatal to him. When
all this shit is over, and I have fed every single
piece of Frank Johns to Sheba, my beloved
Bengal, I will be personally taking control of my
daughter’s business. And, believe me, Frank
Johns is a pussycat compared to me. So, if I were
you, I’d think long and hard about how much you
cooperate with me at this precise moment.”
Taylor visibly shook with rage, but he
appeared to have common sense when he
nodded. “I don’t know where he is, but I have a
shit ton of respect for Ness. My loyalty lies with
the head of my firm, and that would be your
daughter. So, if you care to let me go, I will
cooperate in any way I can to help you find him.”
Maksim nodded, releasing Taylor. “Then I
suggest you start thinking of any place he would
hide out because I am becoming impatient. And
a bored Bratva Pakhan can be very precarious.”
Looking around the room, he tutted. “It looks
like you have just redecorated. We wouldn’t
want to spoil the paintwork, now, would we?”
If I wouldn’t have looked a pussy, I would
have fallen to my knees in front of Maksim
Alexeev right there and then.
Day 20
21:31
Nessa
“Here.” Frank held out a bottle of water and
two pills. “Don’t panic, they’re just paracetamol.
The stuff I injected into you will give you a killer
headache.”
I was more grateful for the water. My mouth
was so dry I was sure even a river couldn’t
quench my thirst.
“So, what now?” I asked after I had downed
the entire bottle.
On waking a little while ago, I had been more
surprised to find Frank hadn’t tied me to
anything than I had been of our surroundings.
With a long sigh, Frank crossed his arms over
his chest and sat back. “Seems as though you
ruined everything, I’m not sure.”
“You’re telling me the Game Master never
had a plan b?”
“I didn’t think I would need one. It has taken
me almost four years to bring The Game into
fruition, and I was confident it would all run
effortlessly. Of course, I should have banked on
you being the bitch that you are and mess
everything up.”
“Not sure this mess is on me, but whatever
helps you sleep at night.”
His spittle sprayed my face when he dived out
of his chair and thrust his face into mine. “Be
very careful, Nessa. I am struggling to contain
my rage at your stupidity as it is. Fair warning,
you wouldn’t want to unleash my wrath.”
I had been right all along, he had crossed
over the line between genius and crazy. In fact,
he had leapt over it. He was insane.
“Is it supposed to be your idea of a joke
bringing me here?” I asked, ignoring his warning
and glancing around the room with a heavy
heart.
Shrugging, he chuckled. “Take it how you
want, Missy?”
Every word that left his mouth maddened me
more than the last, and I forced myself to relax
when I felt my jaw clench. “And still you call me
that stupid name.”
Quirking an eyebrow at my tone, he tipped
his head sideways and gave me a long stare. “As
you know it always amused me how you could
call yourself Miss when you were married to
Denny.”
“You know the exact reason why.”
He watched me as he took a drink from his
own bottle of water. Then wiping his hand
across his wet lips, he scowled at me. “Denny
was ruled by you. If you were mine, I would
have put a stop to your bullshit a long time ago.”
“And that’s why I always loved Denny, and
not you. He was considerate of what I wanted.
He loved me enough to respect my wishes.”
Boldly, I reached out and took his packet of
cigarettes from the table. “No wonder there
wasn’t a woman stupid enough to marry you.”
Shooting out of the chair, he reared his arm
back to punch me. Except for this time, I was
ready for him, even if I was a little slower than
usual. His eyes widened when I caught his wrist
in my hand and held him back. “No more, Frank.
Tell me you’re not that far into crazy that you
think you can take me on?”
Shock made him flinch before rage seeped
into every line on his face. “Be very careful,
Nessa!”
“Or what?” I’d had enough. I bolted upright to
finish this stupid game of his. My legs gave way
under me, and I fell to a heap on the floor.
Frank smirked down at me. “I told you to be
careful. Always were stubborn. You may find
that your body hasn’t quite adjusted to the
effects of the shit that’s still racing around your
blood system.”
“You’re a fucking coward.”
“That’s as may be,” he sniggered as he picked
up a syringe from the countertop behind him.
“But I’m not a fool.”
I didn’t have the strength to fight him off, and
I could do nothing more than allow him to pump
me full of whatever toxin he kept me weakened
with. However, I welcomed the peace once more
when the world tipped sideways, and I gave in to
it.
Day 21
10:12
Caelan
Iosif, Maksim’s second in command, was
scarier than Maksim himself. For over an hour
he hadn’t moved his piercing blue eyes away
from me. It felt like I was being laser-eyed by
Superman, the fiery red beams of destruction
probing my brain and reading every thought in
my head. Unsure whether he was telepathic or
not, but going with the odds that he was, I
refrained from making eye contact as much as I
could.
“Why you?” he suddenly asked me with a
voice that could have been affiliated with The
Hulk.
Everyone appeared as unprepared for Iosif to
speak as much as me. Silence fell around my
kitchen, and every eye belonging to the Bratva
turned on me, scrutinising me as they waited for
my answer.
“Sorry?” I replied, nonplussed. “Why me
what?”
When he clarified his question, the room
seemed to shrink as the five bulks of Bratva men
and Taylor Williamson gave me their full
attention. “Why did the Game Master pick you
along with Vanessa?”
Ah,shit!
“I suppose he thought it was funny, me being
a copper.”
“Bullshit!” Iosif barked, making me jump
slightly. “He is meticulous. There was reasoning
for his choice of you.”
Maksim regarded me keenly, his eyes as
probing as the other men. “Caelan, Vanessa
speaks very highly of you. Whoever you are, or
whatever your career choice, does not matter
here. But, you seem to be as important to the
Game Master as Vanessa is. And if that is the
case, then there may be something we’re
missing.”
“Maksim…”
“I am not here to judge, Caelan. I am here to
find my daughter!”
“I understand that.” Blowing out a long
breath, I swallowed the lump in my throat and
broke the news that I knew would break my
legs. “It was me who killed Denny Barnes.”
Surprisingly, it was Iosif who saved me this
time. He was out of his chair and pulling Maksim
away from me before he had a chance to
strangle me.
“I take it Nessa didn’t tell you then?”
Maksim glared at me before looking to
visibly calm down. Shaking out of Iosif’s hold, he
clicked his tongue. “She told me about your
brother. Do you think this makes you even with
her?”
“No,” I stated honestly. “Although I now know
it wasn’t Nessa who killed him. Frank has been
planning this a long time, and I think it started
with Noah’s murder.”
Maksim scoffed. “Oh, I have no doubt the
dirty motherfucker had been planning this since
he first stepped foot inside my sons-in-law’s
house…”
“Son-in-law’s house,” I repeated, his words
prompting an idea. “Of, course.”
All attention turned to me when I shot
upright and grabbed my coat.
“What am I missing?” Maksim asked, catching
my sudden excitement. “What are you thinking?”
“Nessa has always lived in the apartment
Denny purchased for her, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then why is there no record of sale for
Denny’s old house? Why are the deeds currently
still in Denny’s name? I presumed Nessa wanted
to keep it, sentimental value.”
Taylor Williamson stepped closer to me.
“Ness has never stepped foot inside since
Denny’s death,” he divulged. “I remember
discussing the property a while ago with Frank.
He said he would sort it.”
“Dirty motherfucker indeed,” Maksim
growled, snatching his own coat from the back
of his chair. Turning to Iosif, he said. “Tool up,
but I give order that this bastard is mine. I put an
end to his stupid game, once and for all.”
Iosif gave a simple nod and turned to the
other men. “You heard him.”
“No!” All heads spun my way, but I held firm.
“I killed Denny because I thought he murdered
my brother. Frank Johns is mine. I owe Noah his
retribution.”
The air around me stilled when every man
held their breath and looked to Maksim. It
occurred to me that no one had ever had the gall
to object to Maksim Alexeev before.
However, life was full of little moments.
Maksim drew a long breath and nodded.
“Your vengeance is yours. I can respect that. But
I agree on the terms that Vanessa gets her hour
with him first.”
A tad baffled, I agreed. “That’s fine, but I’m
not really sure what Ness…”
Maksim chuckled and patted me on the
shoulder. “My dear, Caelan. You have no idea
about my daughter, do you?”
I took the question as hypothetical because
he didn’t wait for my answer.
“Let’s go hunt a cunt!” Maksim bellowed as
The Bratva and the MET, for the first time ever,
merged as one, and went to battle.
Day 21
12:21
Nessa
Sounds were vague, and my eyes were too
heavy to open, but my awareness of smell
appeared to be hypersensitive. I could smell
sweat and leather, metal and gunpowder, and,
grossly, stagnant chip fat. My senses were
overrun with my father’s aftershave, and the
distinct scent of Caelan’s washing detergent
made my nose twitch.
“Vanessa!” My father’s voice.
I tried to reply but my mouth wasn’t
coordinated with the ability to speak, and
shamefully all I achieved when I parted my lips
was to free some drool.
“What the fuck has he pumped her full of?”
Caelan’s angry voice was a little hazy, and my
brain struggled to translate each word.
I felt my body being lifted, and I could do
nothing more than flop like a limp doll in Papa’s
arms.
“It is okay, my matryoshka. It is okay. I have
you.”
Only able to manage a grunt, I grew
frustrated. I needed to warn them about Frank.
They needed to know he was the Game Master.
Frank was furious because I had stepped onto
the end square before him, and I knew he would
stop at nothing to crush anyone that stood in the
way of his absurd reasoning that the firm
belonged to him.
Except, instead of telling them all that, I
passed out yet again.
16:04
It felt like a sledgehammer had hit me right in
the back of my skull. Groaning with the agony, I
brought my shaky hands up to my temples and
pressed hard.
“Open your mouth, Vanessa. Papa will make
it all better, darling.”
Memories of when I was eight ran around my
mind, of when I had caught chicken pox, and I’d
had a severe reaction to them. I had been
hospitalised for five days, but I was still so ill
when I was discharged that my father had hand
fed me until I was back to full health.
Feeling slightly more sentient than before, I
was able to open my mouth myself. I felt him slip
a pill onto my tongue and held the back of my
head while he pressed a glass of water to my
lips.
My eyes were still too sore to open, which
was fine because I knew the light would crucify
my retinas.
“Sleep, matryoshka. I will be here when you
wake. I promise you.”
I didn’t argue with him. I slipped in and out of
the realms of many nightmares over the course
of the next two days, and each time I woke, my
father was by my side, as promised.
Day 23
11:42
“Well look who finally decided to drag her
princess perfumed ass out of bed!”
The beam that split my face was wider than
any smile I’d had worn for a very long time
when I walked into my kitchen and was greeted
by Iosif’s usual sarcasm.
“Iosif!” I hugged him tight when he pulled me
into his strong arms. “When did you get here?”
“When I found out you haven’t changed a bit
and are still getting yourself into some scrape or
another, little girl.” He grinned broadly as he
held me back and looked over me. “Although
you are no longer a little girl!”
“It’s good to see you!”
“And you, princess.” Iosif was one of the most
formidable men I had ever known, but to me, he
was like my big brother. He hadn’t given me any
special treatment as a child, and he’d been the
one to persuade my father that I should learn to
fight at a young age. He knew that being a Bratva
princess could be a perilous position to be in. I
wouldn’t always have my father and his men to
guard me, and there would come a time when I
would have to fight for myself. He had been
damn right.
“Vanessa!” My father strode in and had a
smile as big as Iosif when he spotted me. “It’s so
good to see my daughter’s pretty smile once
again.”
Iosif stuck two fingers in his mouth and
pretended to retch when Papa dragged me into
his firm hold. Flipping him the bird behind my
father’s back, he winked and drank down his
coffee.
“Frank?” I asked Papa when he finally let me
go.
Shaking his head, he narrowed his eyes into a
scowl. “He was not in the house.”
“Damn!”
Papa sat and patted the seat beside him.
“How are you feeling? Back to your usual self?”
he asked when I poured myself a coffee and sat
down.
Doing a mental check of myself, I nodded.
“Still a little weak, but I’m okay. What the hell
was that shit he filled me with?”
Papa and Iosif shared a look, but my father
just shook his head. “Have you any thoughts as to
where Frank could be?”
When I clicked my tongue and looked away,
Papa pressed me. “Vanessa?”
“No,” I lied. “No clue.”
Narrowing his eyes on me, suspect of my
answer, he let it drop and stood up. “I have some
business to attend to. Caelan is running a few
errands and will be back shortly. Will you be
okay?”
I quirked an eyebrow at him, giving him my
silent reply. Chuckling, he nodded and kissed the
top of my head. “Always too big for your boots,
matryoshka. That suki managed to get one over
on you before.” Suki. I hadn’t heard the Russian
phrase for a traitor for a long time, and once
again it hit me who I really was. I was Russian,
and the Bratva ran in my veins, as much as I had
tried to bleed them from me.
Winking, I blew my father a kiss. “Once, Papa.
Never again. This time I’m ready for him.”
“I have no doubt you are.”
Waiting until they had all left and I knew I
had the house to myself, I took my notepad from
the dresser and turned to the page where I had
listed the locations of each game.
Lawrence’s Bar
Trinity House
Yew Tree Cemetery
The Royal Hospital
Warwick Avenue
Brackley Wood
Each of the locations had some specific
association to Denny or me. Apart from the
hospital and Brackley Wood. I suspected
Warwick Avenue was just where Frank had
hidden Noah’s file, and I could only assume the
hospital was chosen because of its ideal setting
for the first two games.
So that left Brackley Wood.
Circling it, I tapped the pen over it and tried
to establish a connection. I couldn’t. So why
there?
Pulling in a long breath, I made my way
upstairs.
Walking into the spare room, a shiver made
its way through my body. It had been so long
since I had been in here that it felt unfamiliar as
much as it did daunting. I had sworn to myself
that I would never again move the large chest
that sat in the corner of the room. I had made a
vow that I wouldn’t ever lift the edge of the
carpet. I had pledged silently that the box hidden
under the floor would never again see the light
of day.
However, today was a day for broken
promises.
It was also judgement day.
For Frank.
And for me.
Day 23
14:09
“I did wonder if you would figure it out.”
It had taken me a while to find the small
outbuilding where Jenny had been held, but as
soon as I stepped foot inside and saw the dead
bodies of my mother, Stuart, and Debbie, I knew
precisely why this spot was significant to The
Game.
It was the Game Master’s headquarters.
The walls were covered with plans, pictures,
ideas, and plots. Each game was documented to
paper and then pinned to the brick walls.
Building blueprints, photographs of each
location, scribbled riddles, even detailed
specifics of my families lives. It was all
emblazoned across the walls like it was merely
wallpaper. Four years of forming something so
vile and cruel was, in the end, just paper and ink.
And I was ready to destroy every single fucking
bit of it.
“It was the obvious choice,” I said, turning
around to face Frank. “You started this. Now I’m
going to finish it.”
Laughing, he nodded his head towards the
weapons I had strapped to my hips and thighs.
“You disappoint me, Missy. I was hoping for a
good Russian zamochit.”
“Zamochit,” I repeated. Hearing so many
Russian terms would have at one point sickened
me. Now the phrase for beating someone to
death filled my heart with eagerness and made
my bones vibrate with excitement.
Sliding the guns from their holsters, I threw
them both to the edge of the room along with
the blades that sat in their sheaths.
“Any last requests, Ness?” Frank asked as he
stepped sideways.
“Only one.”
Holding out both hands, he grinned. “I
consider myself a generous man. You may have
your request.”
“Oh, it isn’t a request I want from you.”
He blinked, looking a little puzzled.
“It’s to Denny.”
Frank laughed. “You want to make a request
to your dead husband?”
Nodding, I welcomed the bolt of adrenaline
that surged through my system, readying me. “I
want him to be the one to greet you when I’ve
crushed your heart in the palm of my hand and
sent you into hell.”
“You always could make me laugh.”
When I felt the familiar calmness soothe the
fury in my veins and steady the beat of my heart,
I smiled coldly. “I’m not in the mood to amuse
you any more. It’s time to fight for that end
square and reveal who is the true Game Master.”
I allowed him the first hit. I was a lady, after
all.
The End Square
14:51
Every inch of me burned in agony. I was
struggling to see through the swelling to both of
eyes and my face, and the blood that trickled
into my left lung from where a broken rib had
pierced it impeded my breathing.
Frank was as battered and exhausted as I
was, but still, we fought.
He landed a punch to the side of my head,
sending me staggering slightly, but managing to
right myself, I followed with a swift hit to his
stomach.
“Admit defeat,” he tried, spitting a mouthful
of blood to the floor when we took a five-second
breather.
“Never! This ends today.”
He peered at me from where he bent double,
holding his knees for support. “Always fucking
stubborn.” Standing upright, he stumbled a little
and wiped the blood from his mouth. “Give it to
you, though, Ness, I forgot how fucking good of a
challenge you were.”
He flew backwards, hitting the wall and
falling to the floor when I slammed the heel of
my boot into his gut.
“What was it you once said, ‘The pursuit of
one’s prey, long before the exhilaration of the
kill, is the best high known to man.’ Have to say,”
I coughed up the clot of blood that was stuck in
my throat and spat it out as he got to his feet. “I
agree. Tormenting you before I kill you is rather
satisfying.”
He laughed, holding his ribs, and wincing in
pain. “You know, you’re right. Listening to
Denny’s screams when the fire reached the boot
of the car was so very gratifying.”
I allowed him to get to me. That was my one
failure. I charged at him, rage blinding me and
ruling my emotions.
Pain seared me, a blazing heat that tore
through my stomach and drove me to my knees.
I could barely see when my vision swam, and I
brought my hands away from where I had
instinctively pressed them to the searing agony.
Blood coated my fingers, lots of it, the deep
gouge in my belly an outlet for the litres of
Bratva blood I had always failed to deplete from
within me.
“You cheated.”
Frank laughed, my knife which he had
deviously picked up when I had kicked him to
the floor still grasped in his hand. “Never trust
your prey, Ness. Have you learnt nothing?”
Attempting to get up, my body gave in and I
fell forwards. The world was sliding away,
Frank’s form becoming distorted as my life
slowly started to creep from me. I was losing too
much blood, and quickly. The wound was too
deep and wide, and any chance of surviving was
no longer possible. I knew this was the end, and
I could do nothing to defend myself when he
lifted his other hand and pointed my own gun at
me.
He was straining to hold it still as his weak
arms shook. But I was an unmoving target, and
he would successfully hit home with one shot.
But, you know what? As I stared down the
barrel of that gun, something occurred to me. I
had made my peace with life. I had forgiven my
father. My heart had been filled by two men that
had, in the end, both loved me dearly. And my
mother had found the peace she had been so
long looking for. My only regret was that I
would leave Sam and Carolyn. Yet I knew deep
down in the very last beats my heart made that
my father would protect them as his own, would
love them like his own. He had adored my
mother, even enough to let her go. There
weren’t many men that could love that entirely.
As my soul took solace and breathed its final
breath, serenity made my spirit soar before it
bowed down and accepted death with grace.
“I suppose I should say well played,” I
managed to say as I placed both my hands on the
floor to support myself.
“Always a noble loser, even at the end. I
respect you, Missy. I always have. Did you know
that? I’ll see to it that you have a swift departure
from this world.”
“I’ll see you in hell,” I vowed when he moved
his finger to the trigger.
Forcing myself upright with the last bit of
energy I could muster, I knelt proudly and
stared straight at him.
“Forever fearsome,” he uttered the final
words I would ever hear as my Denny slipped
his hand in mine and held firm.
And then I gave him the nod.
Give Frank his due, it took four of Caelan’s
bullets to take him down.
His death was the final thing I witnessed
before my own death took me to meet my
husband, and my lover.
In the end, the Game Master and Gamer
stepped onto the end square together.
Yet, the gamer still won, see. She got to
witness not only her tormenter’s death
alongside the welcome relief of her own, but she
got to behold Detective Inspector Caelan Fen
finally get vengeance for the murder of his
brother.
Epilogue
14:04
Caelan
Taylor Williamson greeted me with a broad
grin and a pat on the back. “Good to see you,
Fen.”
Oh, how times had changed. I remembered
back. Twelve months ago, when I had first
stepped into The King and County with Ness, I
had received a very different welcome.
“The Boss in?”
Nodding, and knowing I wouldn’t need an
introduction, he pointed to the back room. “Sure,
go on through. You want a drink?”
“Jack, no ice.”
Understanding the significance of the simple
drink, he gave me a woeful smile. “It will be
ready when you’ve done?”
Thanking him, I tapped on the back-room
door and waited for the go-ahead to enter. Even
though I was welcome now, I still showed my
respect to the man that had earned my
admiration tenfold within the last year.
“Caelan!” Maksim received me with his
customary firm hug.
Signalling for me to sit, I accepted and pulled
out a chair. “How are Sam and Carolyn?”
His eyes twinkled with love, and he beamed.
It was rare to most people, to see such an open
display of emotion from the man they most
feared, and I considered myself honoured to
have seen it on many occasions.
“Carolyn is becoming a beautiful young
woman.” He rolled his eyes and added, “Sam is
proving to be more like my daughter every day!”
“Stubborn bugger, eh?”
“Stubborn, argumentative and fierce. Yet, so
very kind-hearted, and passionate. As my
matryoshka had, he has many layers to his
character.”
“She would be proud of you, Maksim. You
know that, don’t you?” I expressed when I saw
the glimmer of sorrow seep into his eyes.
Shaking himself, he nodded his thanks. “I
hope so.” Lighting up a cigarette, he offered me
one. “I take it you’re here on business?”
“I am.”
Holding out his hand, familiar with our
routine by now, he took the slip of paper from
me and opened it out. “Consider it done. Do I
need to know the specifics?”
“Raped four kids,” I spat out, unable to hold in
the disgust. “And again, evidence was tampered
with, so the bastard walked.”
Maksim frowned. “Another one to walk?”
“Yeah. That’s three in the last eight months.”
“You think you have a bent fucker in The
Yard?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at me.
“There’s always some shady copper. But this
is different. This guy was surefire for a
conviction. All the original evidence was stacked
against him.”
“I’ll put an ear out, see if I can get a whisper
who is accepting backhanders,” Maksim
promised.
Giving him a grateful nod, I pushed my chair
back and stood up.
“You will be at the memorial on Tuesday?”
Melancholy hung heavy around us, and my
heart went out to the father who had only
shared such a small part of his daughter’s life.
“Wild horses wouldn’t keep me away.”
Bidding him goodbye, I stepped back into the
bar area. No one paid any attention to me. Not
any more. I had more respect here now than I
did at the station, and every single person in the
place appreciated this was something I would
always do alone.
Striding slowly across the room, I sat at the
usual table near the door and picked up the glass
of Jack. Every month for the last year I had made
this small ritual, as I would continue to do every
month that I still lived and breathed.
Lifting my glass, I trained my eyes on the
empty chair opposite me and toasted to an
incredible woman. “Dr Griffiths.”
Placing my empty glass down, I stood up,
raised a hand to Taylor, and left.
TheEnd
D H Sidebottom’s links:
Facebook page:
https://www.facebook.com/DHSidebottom
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/DHSidebottom
H-
Sidebottom/e/B00C3ELG1I/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1
Wyszukiwarka
Podobne podstrony:
Game Master Toolkit Unholy Crusade Card
Money Master The Game Anthony Robbins
dane mastertig2300mls
01 Certyfikat 650 1 2015 Mine Master RM 1 8 AKW M
MasterPlanRekrutacjaGrupowa2010
digit game
2 3 Unit 1 Lesson 2 – Master of Your Domain
Mastercam creating 2 dimensio Nieznany
CD-KEY The Godfather (PC GAME) All, CD KEY'E
master
Mastering Checkmates
Master Vet
07 Aneks 1 Certyfikat 650 1 2015 Mine Master RM 1 8 AKW M (AWK) (nr f 870 MM)
A Game of Thrones Character Sheet
Mutants & Masterminds Archetypes Energy Being
Mastercook 3400 3455 3469 instrukcja
więcej podobnych podstron