Mind Games (Games Thriller Series) (15 page)

Chapter 48

Jessica ventured out of the dressing room, and quietly joined her kids in the shadows as they watched the next scene.

“Cut!” The director walked over and pulled Tom aside.

“He’s having a hard time with this scene,” Emily whispered to her mother. “This is the tenth take.”

Jessica closed her eyes and took a deep breath. This was her fault. When she opened her eyes, he was striding toward her, leaving the director looking after him in disgust in the middle of the set.

Tom grabbed Jessica by the arm and pulled her back to the dressing room, his face a mask of aggravation. He slammed the door behind him, leaving the entire cast and crew in stunned silence.

“I don’t want you watching,” he snapped. “I don’t want you here!”

“You don’t mean that.” Jessica tried to diffuse his anger.

Tom grabbed her by the shoulders. “You don’t want to be here,” he said through clenched teeth, “then I don’t want you here either.”

“Tom, I never said I didn’t want to be with you.”

“You said you didn’t want this kind of life.”

She hesitated for a moment. “I never wanted to be in the spotlight and I don’t want my kids there either,” she replied, feeling the bite of anger again. “You of all people should know that.” She yanked herself from his grip and walked to the back of the room, leaning on the counter and looking at him in the mirror.

“Goddamnit,” he swore and took a step toward her. “Jess, the spotlight hasn’t changed who I am.”

“There’s no privacy here. I don’t want people poking around in our past, or our present for that matter.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“When this show is over, I want to go back east, permanently. With you. I don’t want to raise a child out here. I know I said I wanted to stay out here with you, but I can’t stay here. It’s too...” she struggled for the words, “plastic.”

Tom laughed.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Jessica warned. “It’s too fake out here. There is no sincerity. Everything seems shiny and clean, like your house, but it’s really just empty and cold.”

His eyebrows arched. “You think my house is empty and cold?”

“Yes.”

“It’s classy.”

“No Tom, it’s beautiful but it is cold. There is no character in that house.”

“So you’re saying my dead wife had no character?”

“She may have had character, but she didn’t decorate the house with it.”

He clenched his fists and glared at her.
When she turned to face him, he stormed to her, towering over her. “You are not the best judge of character, Jess.” He glared with his fists still clenched.

She went to push him away from her and he grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the mirror, leaning her back painfully against the counter as he came within inches of her face.

“Tom, you’re hurting me.”

“Maybe you like that.”

Jessica’s eyes narrowed. “Let me go.”

“Or what?”

Jessica said nothing at first. “Let go,” she repeated and clenched her teeth.

“No.”

Jessica brought her knee up into his groin, hard enough to shock him, but not hard enough to do real damage.

He let her hands go and stumbled back a step leaning over in pain. He looked up at her in shock. “What the hell did you do that for?”

“You didn’t let go.”

“But…”
he began and took a step toward her.

“Do you want me to drop kick you?”

He stepped back, grabbing the chair and sliding it under him. “Jess,” he said as he leaned his forehead on his hand, shaking his head slowly back and forth.

“What.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You
’d better never do that to me again, or I’m gone.”

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. “What’s happening to us?”

Tears blurred her vision and she trembled, his question lighting doubt—doubt that they’d be able to get through anything, doubt that their marriage was strong enough to endure.

He slowly stood and limped over to her, taking her in his arms. “I’m sorry.” He held her and stroked her hair. “I love you
, Jess.”

She nodded into his chest, swallowing the sobs.

He pulled her away from his chest. “Are we okay?”

“Yes.” She looked up into his blue eyes. “You’re going to need them to fix your makeup.” She pointed to the smeared face paint on his forehead.

He glanced at his reflection and uttered a laugh. “You want to watch the scene we were trying to do?”

She nodded.

They walked out together, feeling all the eyes in the studio looking in their direction. Jessica blushed at the unwanted attention. He kissed her on the cheek and headed off to get his make-up fixed for the scene.

* * * *

“Thanks for coming today,” Tom said as they slid into the car.

“You guys were great.” Jessica looked back at the kids.

“I never knew so much went into making a show,” Eric marveled.

Tom’s phone rang and he dug it out of his pocket while driving. He flipped it open. “Hi
, Harry.”

“Did you get a chance to read the script?”

“I’m going to do it.” Tom glanced over at Jessica.

“That’s terrific! They want to meet you in New York next week. They plan on flying to the complex for a walk through on Monday and then they want you running lines for auditions to fill the spot of Jessica on Tuesday back in the city.”

“But, I still have obligations with the show.”

“I’ll take car
e of that. You can take the red-eye on Tuesday. They can shoot your scenes later in the week. I already made the arrangements.”

Tom glanced at Jessica, knowing that it meant really long days and he wouldn’t be able to spend any time with her at the end of next week. “Tell them I want a room at the Plaza starting Sunday night.”

“Will do. I’ll arrange for a flight out of Boston on Sunday,” Harry said.

“Make it two tickets.”

“Consider it done.”

Tom flipped the phone closed. “How does a couple
of days in New York City sound to you?”

“When?”

“Sunday, Monday and Tuesday,” he answered. “I’ll be gone most of Monday, but I’ll be back for a late dinner. Same with Tuesday.”

“Sounds good
,” she said, grinning at the prospect.

Tom shut off the car as the garage closed, the kids ran into the house and he waited until the door closed before he looked at Jessica. “About earlier, I’m sorry.”

“You scared me today. You’ve scared me more than once since we arrived.” Jessica opened her car door and cast a glance his way. “And I don’t like that at all.”

“Jess.” He stepped out of the car.

She paused at the door with her back to him, the tension written in her stance.

He walked around the car and took her hand. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” She looked up at him. “Please don’t do it again.”

Tom nodded, biting back the urge to ask her why not, after all, she had forgiven Ty for far worse. “What do you want to do about dinner?” he asked, looking at his watch and driving those thoughts away.

“Let’s order in, I don’t feel like cooking.”

Chapter 49

Chris stood on his balcony watching as the moon rose above the city. He looked at his watch and smiled. He still had at least four hours to kill before Emily would possibly need him. It was time to have some fun. He grabbed his leather jacket and headed out the door.

He loved the city this time of year when the air cooled off faster than the ground, making the fog roll up from the pavement in the streets, creating a nice cool blanket of white for him to float through. He trolled the streets, walking without purpose, his head inclined and both hands shoved in his jacket pockets, hiding the cast from view. He glared through his bangs, listening to the sounds around him and entering a neighborhood that was not safe for anyone alone after dark.

He heard the footsteps fall behind him and he tensed. There was more than one person following him and the smile slowly spread on his face.

He slipped into an alley and slowed his pace, staring at the walls surrounding the dead end. He heard the laughter behind him and took his hands out of his pockets, turning to face his attackers. “You don’t want to fuck with me,” he growled low in his throat.

The first gang member pulled out a switchblade and
the rest of the posse followed suit. “You lost, shithead?” he asked as they surrounded him. “There ain’t no whitey in my hood.”

Chris didn’t say anything. He just looked around the circle, counting seven of them. They were young, maybe late teens, early twenties, black and Latino, and all had knives drawn. He smiled and looked back at the one he assumed to be the leader. He was as tall as Chris, equally broad
-shouldered and looked downright mean.

“Got money, shithead?”

“I will say this one more time,” Chris warned and stared down the leader. “You
do not
want to fuck with me.”

“We gonna cut you up
,” the leader of the gang said and stepped forward, pushing the button on the switchblade. A long sharp blade shot out.

Chris shook his head slowly and stretched his smile further. “Then you’re all going to die.”

They laughed at him and all of them lunged with their knives at the same moment.

Each and every one of them stopped short within inches from Chris’s body when he whispered “Stop!” Chris laughed out loud as shock registered on the
leader’s face. “I told you not to fuck with me,” he snarled and he silently commanded each of his attackers to bury their knives in their own hearts. In unison, seven blades pierced seven hearts. He stood in the center as each fell to their knees and then over on their backs. He stepped over the leader’s dead body and walked out of the alley, shrouded in fog.

He continued his leisurely pace through the city with a smile, feeling the power grow with each unfortunate encounter. By one in the morning, he had rid the city of over a dozen thugs, none of which w
as smart enough to heed his warnings.

As he approached the village, he heard a scream in an ally to his left. He hesitated then ran toward the noise. There in the alley was a young teenage girl, probably no older than sixteen, being raped by three men. She was crying with one of the men in her mouth and the other two argued as to who was going to fuck her this time.

Chris stormed into the alley, the anger welling up inside him. “Get away from her,” he snarled and when the man getting a blow job pointed a gun toward him and pulled the trigger, Chris felt the power surge out of him. The bullet never reached him; it disintegrated under the stream of heat that blasted from Chris, along with the man holding the gun. Chris turned his gaze to the other men who were now backing away in fear. He walked over to the girl and held his hand out to help her up. “Do you want me to let them go?” he asked her, keeping his gaze on the men.

She took his hand and he heard her say no very softly as he helped her up.

“What do you want me to do with them?” he asked and the two men froze in place, the fear on their faces very visible to both Chris and the girl. Chris looked back at her.

Despite still
shaking and crying, she glared at her attackers, her face transforming into a mask of vengeance. “The same thing you did to the other one.”

Chris looked back at them and let the power go again, vaporizing the other two men. “What else do you need?” he asked, turning back to her.

She wrapped her torn clothing around herself and looked into the blue eyes that saved her. “Who are you?” she asked in awe, still shaking.

“Just think of me as your guardian angel.” He took off his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders leading her out of the alley. “Hospital or home?”

“Home,” she sniffled and pointed him in the direction where she lived.

“What were you doing walking alone at this hour?”

“I was at work. My mom usually picks me up, but she got tied up at the hospital and I didn’t want to wait.” She let out a small sob.

“If you were my daughter, I would have told you to wait.”

“She did, I told her I’d get a ride from someone at work.”

Chris looked at her. “You lied to your mother?”

The girl nodded. “I’ve walked before; it’s not that far. I just didn’t think...” she trailed off and let out another small sob and pointed to the apartment building they were approaching.

“Sweetie, it’s not safe for a girl your age to be alone on the streets at this hour. Wait next time,” he said. They stopped at the corner and he took his coat back. He watched her cross the street and open the door to the building, and then he took off in the dark back toward his apartment building.

Chris looked at his watch. It was close to two in the morning. He glanced over his shoulder at the apartment building in the distance and smiled. Helping that girl was far more satisfying than everything else he had done tonight. It felt right, like giving Jessica the power back to save Emily.

He walked into his apartment and dropped his keys on the counter, stripping the jacket off and tossing it on the chair in his living room. He grabbed a Corona and settled on the couch, flipping the television to the local Fox News station and waited
, periodically taking swigs from the bottle.

God I want to talk to Jess
. He closed his eyes, smiling at the power raging inside of him.

He opened his eyes as a breaking story unfolded on the news about a gang of youths and an apparent suicide pact.

“Wrong.” He grinned at the television.

How many people had he saved by ridding the earth of those maggots?

His smile dissolved when he heard her call his name.

Chris dropped the beer and bolted into his bathroom, sliding on the tiles and grabbing the sink to stop his momentum. He looked into Emily’s room and saw Frank kneeling over her with one hand around Emily’s neck and the other between her legs. “Let her go
,” Chris growled and Frank looked at him in surprise.