These Deadly Games(101)

Finally, Zoey heaved a heavy sigh, her shoulders hunched as she rubbed her eyes. “I want the games to end, too. And I never want to play MortalDusk again.”

“Um, try telling that to Randall.”

“Oh, I already did. He’s not thrilled.” Her lips quirked. “You know Fishman won the tourney, right?”

“Yeah, I heard.” I also knew Jeremy Fischer had told the police he thought the email he’d gotten from me was fake. He said I’d been way too confused when he met me in the park, that he thought someone was coercing me on my phone outside his house. That cocky bastard actually showed up for me. He wasn’t such a jerkface after all.

“Well, he’s invited us to stream with him a couple of times a week.”

“For real?”

“Yup. Randall’s the only one who wants to take him up on it, though. They played together last night after Randall got home from the hospital. Lucia, too, though she always died within point two seconds.” Lucia had also vouched for me, so I’d heard, telling Sanchez I’d asked her to look out for Randall—that I wouldn’t have if I’d wanted to hurt him. “Our channel has, like, a bazillion subs now.” But Zoey’s smile quickly faded.

“What is it?”

“I still can’t believe Dylan was Andrew. I can’t believe he fooled us like that for so long.”

“I know.”

She screwed up her face. “I can’t believe I kissed him.” She stuck out her tongue, like, gross.

“I can’t believe I did, either.”

She raised her eyebrows.

“That morning, before he left—he kissed me.” I grimaced. “And I kissed him back.”

“Ugh. Hey, at least you didn’t throw yourself at him.”

“Don’t feel bad. You had no idea.”

“Thanks,” she muttered. “But I’ll never get to tell him off, or kick him in the face. He deserved what he got. He deserved to die.”

My heart broke for her then. For all of us. “Oh, Zoey.”

“What?”

I bit my lip, unsure how to break this news. Revenge wasn’t always clean. Justice wasn’t always swift. “The police didn’t just let me talk to you to clear my name.”

She blanched. “What do you mean?”

“They want any files from his laptop to try to find him. There were no human remains in the rubble.” It was a flaw in Andrew’s original plan, too, like I’d suspected. The police always would’ve known he didn’t die in the fire. His game had too many glitches. “He didn’t die. He’s still out there, somewhere.”

“But … how? Where could he have gone?”

“I wish I knew.”

Andrew had clearly hatched some sort of escape plan, since his endgame was always to fake his own death and start over with a new identity. He probably had a car other than his Jeep hidden somewhere, primed to flee. He must’ve run out the back door as I sprinted out the front, then threw the lit lighter at the house and didn’t get caught in the blast. The police had found traces of blood in the backyard, and then they just … disappeared. Maybe my tourniquet worked after all. Or maybe Andrew had somehow faked his wound’s severity to get out of confessing to the police. I wouldn’t put it past him—and let’s be real, he’d probably do whatever it took to outsmart the police and start a new life. Hopefully, he wouldn’t hurt anyone else.

But I remembered the shock in his eyes as I tried to stanch his bleeding. I’m not a complete monster.

There was a monster in each of us. The question was whether you managed to stifle it.

Maybe Andrew had finally locked his in a cage. Maybe he was now free from guilt and embitterment, and would move on from his thirst for vengeance. After all, in the end, he’d called a draw.

The problem for him was I never accepted it.

Brady’s death was an accident. Matty’s death was murder. There was no way in hell I was going to let Andrew get away with this. For now, my family was my priority. I’d clear my name. Apologize to my friends. Finish high school. Maybe even play in next year’s MortalDusk tourney.

But someday, I was going to find him. Someday, I was going to beat him at his own game.

And I couldn’t wait to play.





Acknowledgments




Thank you so much—yes, you!—for picking up this book, for choosing it, and for spending time with my characters. I can’t even tell you how much it means to me. Okay, fine, I’ll tell you.

My debut novel, All Your Twisted Secrets, launched six days after the WHO declared COVID-19 a global pandemic. On top of how terrifying the world was, bookstores shut down, and Amazon stopped shipping books that week, and since an author’s debut sales often predicate future book deals, I was scared my author career was finished from the start.

But readers bought my debut online (or ventured out for curbside pickup), reviewed it, shouted about it on social media, told their friends about it, and sent me such kind words of encouragement. It’s thanks to my readers These Deadly Games was possible. And thanks to you, my next stories will be possible.

So, from the bottom of my heart, in the absolute cheesiest way: thank you.

To my husband, Bryan, thank you for your unending support, for brainstorming with me, for bringing me lattes and pastries, for listening to me babble endlessly about publishing, and for everything. I love you so much.