Mind Games (Games Thriller Series) (22 page)

Chapter 63

The phone rang and Tom reached over, grabbing it off the hook. “Hello?”

“Is Jess there?”

Tom held the phone out, his sleepy eyes meeting hers as she crossed from the bathroom. “It’s Dan.”

“How’s Eric?” she asked.

“He’s in his room right now. What the hell is going on?”

“You shouldn’t punish them,” Jessica said.

“So LeAnn tells me but I still don’t understand what the hell she was babbling about.”

“Danny, I can’t really explain...”

“
—Did you know the hospital gave me the third degree?”

Jessica closed her eyes. She could imagine the questioning he had to endure if they thought foul play had occurred.

“They said it was a clean slice, not something that would happen with the explanation he gave. I’ve been through the wringer today Jessica and this ‘I can’t really explain’ shit isn’t going to fly.”

“It wasn’t their fault. It was mine.”

He laughed on the other end of the phone. “Yours? How, Jess?”

“I can’t explain, but they aren’t safe if there are mirrors in their rooms
,” Jessica replied, knowing she sounded crazy.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Tom sat up and held out his hand for the phone.

Jessica relinquished the handset to Tom, a rarity for her but she was tapped out. She couldn’t listen to Daniel reaming her after the day they had.

“Dan,” Tom interrupted. “Just hold your horses.” He listened, keeping eye contact with Jessica. “I know you’re upset and you have every right to be...”

Daniel cut him off.

“But you need to understand.”

He was cut off again.

“I know, but...” Tom closed his eyes and his teeth clacked together in frustration.

“Dan
, just shut up a second,” he finally snapped and took the opportunity to fill the silence with what he wanted to say. “Your kids are great kids, so cut them some slack. What happened today was not remotely their fault and I understand the need to have boundaries, but in this case, it doesn’t apply.” He took a breath and let that sit out there.

“And what Jess told LeAnn about mirrors is extremely important.” He waited. “I know, it doesn’t make sense, but it still is important.” He laughed a little at the response. “We’ll fill you in someday when this is all over.” He nodded and handed the phone back to Jessica.

She took the phone. “We’ll be by in a little while to see him, okay?” She hung up, focusing on Tom. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“I’m not completely useless.” He smiled and rolled out of bed, heading for the bathroom.

Jessica waited on the deck for him, scanning the ocean and concentrating on not swinging her gaze to the south. Toward him. But her thoughts went there anyway, falling back on the nightmare she had the other day. She shivered and rubbed her arms.

“You all right?” Tom asked from the doorway.

Jessica turned, watching while he folded up the sleeves to his neatly pressed gray oxford. “I should have called earlier.”

“You were a little preoccupied.”

Heat filled her cheeks and she smiled, approaching him and wrapping her arms around his waist, rising up on her toes to catch a kiss. “Let’s go.”

“Do you mind walking?”

“Not at all.”

It was only a couple miles from their place down to Daniel and LeAnn’s cottage. Jessica and Tom held hands, listening to the sounds of the ocean, walking along the ridge of sand just shy of the high tide line.

“I need to say something,” Tom interrupted the comfortable silence. He looked out at the water and stopped, letting go of her hand.

“What is it?”

Tom took a deep breath and locked his gaze with hers. “I was serious earlier.”

“I know you were.”

“I just wanted to make sure you understood the consequences.”

“I do.”

He held her gaze. “Just so we are perfectly clear. If you ever give in to him, I
will
file for divorce.”

The pounding of her heart in her throat made it difficult to swallow and she nodded. “I understand.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence.

* * * *

Eric sat on the front stoop waiting for them.

Jessica looked at his bandaged hand and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry
, baby.” She took his hand and went to kiss it, but Eric pulled it away.

“No
, Mom, you’re going to need everything you have to save you and Chris.” He looked at his mother and then up at Tom and smiled awkwardly.

“It’s all right,” Tom replied, although it was anything but all right.

Eric held his gaze. “It really isn’t good to hold onto that kind of hatred.”

Tom looked away.

“He only wants to help us,” Eric added.

Tom’s gaze snapped back to Eric and his jaw tightened.
That’s not all he wants
.

Eric didn’t respond to Tom’s last thought because he was right. “Really
, Mom, I will be just fine.”

Jessica looked up at Tom. “Can you check on Emily?”

He nodded and stepped into the house.

“Chris said you stopped Frank from killing Emily.” Jessica sat down next to Eric and put her arm around his shoulders.

“I did,” Eric replied.

“You surprised the hell out of him.”

“I know.”

“How do you know?”

Eric smiled and looked at her. “Mom, I know a lot more about you and Ty than either one of you knows.” His eyes bore into her. “I can get into your heads anytime I feel like it.”

Jessica’s mouth dropped.

“You really shouldn’t have done what you did. That was dumb. You can’t fight Frank without him, Mom. He has to actually be there, not just a reflection in the mirror.” He paused and inhaled. “You can’t stop Frank alone, he
will
kill you.”

“You know how we can stop him?”

Eric nodded. “Ty does too. He has for a while.”

Anger welled up inside her and her hands balled into fists.
Chris knows how to stop Frank and he hasn’t yet?

“Don’t be angry with him. It’s dangerous and he doesn’t want to put you in the position he needs to,” Eric said. “I don’t want to see you hurt either, but it’s the only way.”

Jessica closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“You were meant to be with him.”

“No, Eric. I was never meant to be with a killer.”

Eric laughed. He looked at her long and hard, the colors in his eyes swirled slowly. “You are the only one
who can save him from himself and he is the only one who can save you from Frank.”

Jessica glanced at her hands and then off toward the south where his house was.

“Besides, you love each other.”

“Eric, I love Tom,” she clarified, but deep down, he struck a chord.

“You think you do, but it’s not the same and you know it.”

“Eric, I’m not discussing this with you.” She gently touched the bandages on his hand.

“Don’t worry, it will heal just fine.”

“How did you get to be so grown up?”

He leaned over and kissed his mother’s cheek. “I’m not grown up, Mom.” He looked away. “I just happened to have the curse of seeing bits of the future along with the other things I can do.” He glanced at her. “I suppose that’s part of what I inherited from you.”

Jessica smiled a little. “I suppose.”

Chapter 64

Chris looked out at the moon rising over the city and smiled. He wasn’t going to pass up a Saturday night on the prowl, especially after the morning he had. He threw on his leather jacket, pocketed his keys and headed out to rid the city of some trash.

He wandered slowly through the park and when he heard the hammer click on the gun pointed in his direction, he laughed softly. He slowly turned to see the strung out kid that he had run into earlier in the week. The kid’s eyes went wide.

“You still trying to score?” Chris knew this kid wasn’t a killer, just a petty thief.

He nodded and the gun shook.

“Put the gun away.” He decided to see what would happen without using his power.

The kid lowered the gun and put the hammer back to its resting place.

“What’s your name?” Chris asked.

The kid looked around and then back at Chris. “Matt.”

Chris put his hand out. “Give me the gun, Matt.” Leaving it up to him to actually follow his request and when Matt handed him the gun, Chris smiled. He flipped the safety on and slid the gun in the waistline of his pants at the small of his back and pulled his jacket back down to hide it from view. “You need to get yourself into rehab. You’re too young to waste your life like this.”

The kid shuffled back and forth, his eyes darting around. “I just need a fix.”

Chris shook his head. “I’m not going to help you get that. But I will bring you to a place where you can dry out.”

“I don’t want to dry out.” He started to back away.

Chris tilted his head. “Yes you do.” He sent a little push.

Matt blinked a few times. “Ok
ay.” He allowed Chris to lead him to a local drug and alcohol rehabilitation facility, where he checked himself in. Chris peeled off enough cash for Matt to complete his rehab and handed it to the receptionist.

“Who are you?” Matt asked in awe.

Chris smiled. “Just think of me as your guardian angel.” He turned to leave.

“Thanks
, man.”

Chris looked over his shoulder and nodded. “Any
time, kid.”

He left the facility and headed back toward the park. He didn’t think his next encounter would end as pleasantly as the one with Matt. He thirsted for the thrill of it, and just like Matt’s addiction, Chris was compelled by the high of ultimate control and before the night was over, he would feel that power again and the thrill wouldn’t be disappointing.

Chris swung by his apartment and dropped the gun on the counter. He ventured out again and jumped onto the train, heading into a crime-laden section of the Bronx. He was met with hostile glares as he got off the subway and headed up to the street.

“You lost
, boy?” an old bum asked as Chris passed by him on the stairs.

“Nope,” Chris answered and continued on his journey without a second look.

It didn’t take very long for trouble to find him and when he felt the tip of the knife touch his side, he pushed the power outward, sending the knife and his assailant flying. He turned and looked at the man who tried to stab him.

He scrambled away from Chris, his eyes wide with fear and he grabbed for the discarded knife on the pavement.

“I wouldn’t try that again if I were you.”

“What the hell are you
, man?” He stood, holding the knife in front of him, pointed at Chris.

“Your worst fucking nightmare,” Chris said and probed inside the man’s mind finding the justification that he was looking for. The power shot out like an invisible hand and wrapped around the thug
’s neck, cutting his air off. The man turned blue and his body shook with oxygen-starved spasms. Chris sent out another jolt and the man’s neck snapped, instantly killing him.

Chris walked away leisurely with a smile on his face. He continued his stroll down the streets until he heard something in the alley ahead. Fearlessly, he entered the dark path between the buildings, dodging the trash bins and garbage strewn on the ground. The alley’s dead end held five men beating the crap out of a younger man.

Leaning against the corner of the building, he crossed his arms. “You might want to ease up there,” he said, startling them.

The younger man looked up through swollen eyes at Chris as his legs gave out under him. He fell to the ground, drawing their attention back to him. One of the men went to kick him and the snap of his knee filled the sudden silence and he burst out screaming, crumbling to the ground holding his useless leg. The rest of the men looked at him, stunned to inaction.

Chris walked up to the younger man and helped him up while the rest of the crew stepped to help their fallen comrade. He gave them a warning glare and started out of the alley with the beaten man. Chris heard a sound he was beginning to be familiar with and turned his head in the direction of the thugs.

“You really don’t want to do that
,” he growled low in his throat as he looked down the barrel of a 9-millimeter.

“We don’t have a beef with you, but that boy there, we aren’t finished with him.”

“Yes, you are.” Chris turned his back to them. The report of the gun was lost in the rush of scorching air he let loose. The bullet never reached him and the man holding the gun never knew what ended his life so abruptly, neither did the other four standing behind him.

The beaten man looked back at the swirl of dust in the alley. “What happened to him?”
he mumbled through his swollen bleeding lips.

“Dust.” Chris offered no more explanation. “What did you do?” Chris asked as he helped the man to the far corner.

“Wrong place, wrong time,” the man said, causing Chris to study him closer.

“Bullshit.” The man tried to pick pocket one of those men and he was trying to do the same to Chris. “And I wouldn’t touch my wallet if you know what’s good for you.”

The man pulled away and looked at Chris closely. “Who are you?”

“I’ve been referred to as the Angel of Death a time or two,” he smiled, amused by the analogy given his recent adventures. “But tonight you can consider me your own personal guardian angel,” Chris said and checked his pocket. His wallet was still there. “Just stay out of trouble,” he warned and walked off into the night shrouded in fog.

Chris wandered down into a more residential area of the Bronx. A child screaming caught his attention and he turned toward a house with open windows. The child kept repeating, “Daddy, please don’t hit me.” Chris could see enough in the front window and when the man belted the boy, sending him across the room, Chris flashed back to his own childhood.

It was rare for Ty and his stepfather, Jacob Aris, to be alone together at the house, never mind bonding in any fashion, however, on this particular Sunday they were watching an intense match- up between the Buffalo Bills and the Denver Broncos. Both cheering for the Bills and adding colorful commentary to the game. It was fourth quarter and the Bills were trailing by a field goal with less than two minutes on the clock.

Buffalo was making a run down the field when Jacob decided he wanted another beer. “Get me a beer,” he ordered from his recliner.

Ty hesitated, his eyes still glued to the television.

“Go get me a beer!”

The fun of the day ended abruptly when Ty glanced at his stepfather. The mean spirited glare told him that this wasn’t a request that could wait and Ty got up, moving as fast as he could to grab the last beer from the refrigerator so he could see the rest of the game. As he approached the chair, the beer slipped from his hand smashing on the hardwood floor capturing Jacob’s attention.

“You stupid son of a bitch!” Jacob shot out of the chair and swept the bottle neck off the floor approaching Ty, his hand curling into a fist as the fury took hold.

When Jacob swung, Ty ducked.

Jacob stumbled forward and his fist caught nothing but air, his second attempt was more focused and caught Ty in the chest, sending him onto the floor.

His head bounced with a thump on the hard wood and stars filled Ty’s vision. When his eyes focused again, they widened in terror. The sharp edge of the bottle was an inch away from his eye and Jacob’s knee pressed against his chest pinning him to the floor.

“You little shit! You broke my last beer!” The sharp point of the bottle moved closer to Ty’s eye with every angry word.

When Jacob raked the glass down his face, ripping the skin from under his eye to just below his jaw bone, the pain was worse than anything Ty experienced in his young life. A wail of a scream barreled out of his chest.

“Shut the fuck up!” Jacob bellowed and stood, towering over Ty, pointing his finger in Ty’s direction. “Next time you’d better not drop my drink.”

He pressed his hand to his burning cheek, tasting the coppery slick blood as it oozed into his mouth through his severed skin. His vision tripled and he pulled his hand away. Blood dripped off his palm making his stomach lurch.

His hand returned to his cheek, to where the scar had been, that vivid feature that disappeared five years ago with Eric’s magic and his stomach rolled.

The man in the house sw
ung at the child again and Chris let the power loose as the fury came back full force. The man inside the house exploded into a million tiny bloody pieces.

Chris turned and walked away, shaken by both the memory and the strength of the power he let loose. He could still hear them screaming from a block away.

He slipped down to a subway station and headed back to his Manhattan apartment. The gun still sat on the countertop in his entryway and he stared at it and for the first time in his life, the thought of ending it all entered his mind. He picked up the gun and looked into the barrel thoughtfully.

How many people have I killed in my lifetime? What’s one more?

He looked at the shroud of night over the city and back at the gun with a measure of indecision. The autograph Emily inscribed on his cast caught his eye and Chris slowly put the gun back down.

He walked out onto the balcony and leaned on the railing.

“What the hell am I doing?”