Mind Games (Games Thriller Series) (4 page)

Chapter 10

Chris sat in the library combing through ghost folklore but her words kept coming back to him and each time the phrase echoed in his mind, the rock on his chest pressed down. Being near her again just increased the pain, and the knowledge of the futility of his actions.

This isn’t a game I’m destined to win.

He huffed and stared at the open book in front of him, not seeing the text, only a jumble of letters that didn’t compute. “I never lose,” he mumbled under his breath and glanced out the window at the bank of woods surrounding the town library.

With a deep inhale, he closed his eyes, wiping his face. “Focus asshole.”

This time he saw the words on the page clearly and he scanned the passages, trying to find a hint of a way to send the ghost of his stepbrother back to hell. There was nothing useful to address their particular situation in any of the dozen books he had stacked on the table and he left in frustration.

As quaint as the rest of the town, the center was lined with little ocean-side gift shops and the delicious scent of boiling lobsters reached his senses. His stomach growled and he followed the smell into a roadside market, ordering a lobster roll for lunch. Taking a window seat, he ate scanning the street until his eyes landed on a small sign advertising a fortuneteller. He raised his eyebrows and exhaled.
That’s an avenue to consider.

Inhaling the rest of his sandwich and leaving the money for lunch on the table, including a hefty tip, he exited and crossed to the shop, standing outside and debating for a fraction of a second before he wandered inside. The foul stench of incense and sweat accosted him and he breathed through his mouth to quell the sudden lurch in his stomach. Removing his sunglasses, he scanned the scant room once his eyes adjusted to the dim light. A small table covered in black fabric with glow in the dark stars flanked by two rickety chairs graced the room and in the center of the table stood a hazy crystal ball. Fog permeated the crystal, swirling, creating patterns that coincided with periodic infusions of smoke. A stack of tarot cards sat on the table, almost hidden from view behind the glass sphere. This room had all the cheesy trappings of a hoax with one exception.

The fortuneteller herself.

A shiver tried to take hold of him but he dismissed it.

The fortuneteller’s beady eyes narrowed and she studied Chris with black eyes that peered out from her wrinkly skin. Her white hair provided a stark contrast to her dark skin and brightly colored sari. She stood, circled him, sizing him up and returned to her seat, her robes settled and she leaned on the table, waving her hand at the opposite chair.

“What ails you boy?” Her voice was scratchy, as if she had just smoked a case of cigarettes.

Pulling out his money clip, he peeled five twenties off the stack of bills and laid them on the table. “I need to know how to get rid of a ghost.”

Her head cocked and she closed her eyes, her hand slowly caressed the crystal and then stopped. A gasp slid from her lips and her eyes flew wide like a broken shade. “Boy, you’ve got yourself one evil sidekick and he’s out for revenge.”

Chris nodded looking frankly at her. “So how do I send him back to hell?”

Some of the luster faded from her cheeks and
her hand gripped the glass sphere like she was holding on for dear life. “He found a way to reach into the physical world.”

“Yes, through mirrors.”

Her hand relaxed and she turned her wide-eyed stare toward the crystal ball, staring at the swirl patterns. He could almost hear the whisper of the air moving around in the sphere and this time, when she spoke, he did shiver. “You must kill his spirit in the physical world.”

“How?”

“Take away his power and he will fall.”

Irritation crawled over his skin. He needed an answer, something he could work with, not this cryptic mumbo jumbo. “How?”

“You must lure him into the physical world and take his path away.”

“How?” he asked again and the slithering sensation on his skin made him shift in the chair. Uneasy didn’t begin to describe the feeling, it was more of a gripping dread itching at his balls but he ignored it, focusing
instead on obtaining information he could act on.

“She is the key, but you need to take the stand without her,” she said. “You must make him think he has won. That is when he will be most vulnerable.”

The picture she painted in his mind formed clearly in the crystal ball and Chris’s eyes strained in their sockets. Dread turned into icy terror layering deep into his core and he trembled, understanding exactly what was expected of him. He shook his head, slowly at first and then much more adamantly. “No,” he whispered. “I’m not gambling with her life.”

The fortuneteller stared into his eyes. “You must or all will be lost.”

Chapter 11

Jessica hung up the phone, her blood thickening to pea soup quality, draining all color from her face, causing her breath to catch in her throat. She turned toward Tom.

“What is it?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Em,” she answered. “Em is sick.” She flew into the bedroom and began frantically throwing clothes in a bag. “I need to go to Connecticut now.”

“I’ll drive,” he said and tossed a few items into the bag.

Jessica stopped. “All the headaches, all the complaints, why the hell didn’t I see it coming?” Blinking back the mist covering her eyes she stared at him. “I really need you on this one Tom.”

He crossed to her and gave her a hug. “I’m here for you babe.”

“I’m serious.”

“I am too.” He picked up the bags and headed to his truck with her in tow and they pulled out of the driveway as the sun dipped below the horizon.

Please God, please let the power he gave back to me be enough to save my baby girl.

Jessica prayed quietly, making empty promises in exchange for the miracle she already possessed. Tears slowly cut hot paths down her cheeks and she reached for Tom’s hand, clasping it tightly as the power wound into a tense ball in her stomach, centering, focusing, growing inside her, taking a life of its own.

Quiet permeated the car laced with the soft echo of music coming from the speakers. The CD looped over and over just loud enough to be heard over her silent tears.

“She’ll be ok Jess,” Tom said and pulled off the highway, navigating the roads to her ex-husband’s house easily.

They hurried out of the car and rang the doorbell. LeAnn Connor opened the door with red and puffy eyes doling out hugs to Jessica and Tom as they entered.

“Where’s Emily?” Jessica asked, wiping her own wet cheeks.

“Upstairs, sleeping,” Daniel said walking around the corner into view.

“I want to see her,” Jessica said and climbed the familiar stairs, stairs she navigated every night for close to twenty years before Ty kidnapped her. Eric’s door swung open when she reached the landing and she stopped, meeting his troubled gaze.

“I can’t fix her,” he said, his eyes as red and puffy as LeAnn’s and Daniel’s.

Jessica smiled and put her hand on his cheek. “It’s ok baby. I can.”

Doubt etched his features and he shook his head.

“Yes honey, he gave it back to me,” she said.

Eric’s mouth dropped slowly. “Ty?”

She nodded and saw the hope spark in his eyes. Walking into Emily’s room and closing the door behind her, she sat on the side of the bed studying her face, dark circles surrounded her eyes, even in sleep, the tell tale sign that all was not well.

“Emily?” Jessica ran her hand through her daughter’s hair.

Emily opened her eyes and the sob escaped at the sight of her mother. She threw herself into her outstretched arms.

“I love you. I promise everything will be just fine,” Jessica said and kissed her forehead, wishing the cancer eating her daughter’s brain gone. She held her and let the magic do its thing.

“Mom, it hurts.”

“Only for a minute.” The light dancing over Emily’s skin died down and Jessica pulled away, scanning her face for the dark circles that had been there when she walked in the room. They were gone and her eyes were clear of the haze of illness. Jessica took a deep breath, the power infusing into her cells, growing stronger with use. “Better?”

Emily nodded, her chin trembling before tears leap
ed to the surface.

She held Emily, closing her eyes, silently sending a simple prayer of thanks. Chris gave her everything she said she wanted and more. The light behind the door in her subconscious burned brighter than ever.

“I need to talk to your father and LeAnn,” Jessica said and stood up.

“I love you
, Mom.”

“I love you too
, honey.” Jessica closed the door behind her and walked downstairs. She exchanged a glance with Tom before focusing on Daniel and LeAnn. “Danny, I want a second opinion.”

“Jess, we’ve had second opinions!”

“I want another one, please,” she insisted. “We could bring her to Los Angeles with us and get one out there.”

“No. If you insist on this, I’ll bring her back to Yale-New Haven for more tests.”

“I’m insisting. Call them and see if you can set something up for tomorrow or the next day and I’ll go with you.”

Daniel nodded and exchanged a glance with his wife. “Ok
ay, we’ll try.”

“Do you have a place to stay?” LeAnn asked.

Jessica shook her head. “I was going to call my folks, but it’s a little late now.”

“Why don’t you stay here tonight?” Daniel offered.

Jessica looked at Tom and received a shrug in response. “That would be nice,” she said as she accepted the gracious invitation.

* * * *

Jessica couldn’t sleep, even with Tom’s arms protectively wrapped around her. She listened to his even breathing and slipped out of bed when he started to snore. Throwing on her bathrobe, she quietly went downstairs to the game room and slid behind the bar. She grabbed a wine cooler and cracked it open, taking a swig as she scanned the pool table. It had been a while since the last time she held a cue stick. She racked the balls and broke, raising her eyebrows as three balls found their way into the pockets. “Not bad.”

“Everything all right?” Daniel rounded the corner into the room.

“I couldn’t sleep. I hope you don’t mind.” She waved at the table.

“Not at all.” He pulled out his cue stick. “Mind if I join you?”

“It’s your table.” Jessica took another shot and missed. “I’m a little rusty.”

He cleared the table and she shook her head as she re-racked for another game. “You still can shoot rings around me.”

“What really happened to you Jess?”

“Danny,” she sighed. “You saw enough on television. You really don’t need to know.”

He walked over to her and touched her face. “I’m sorry if I hurt you,” he said. “I thought you were dead and LeAnn...”

“
—I know, you fell in love with her and I can see why. She really is a sweetheart. Besides, I’m not sure I could have come back anyway, even if LeAnn wasn’t in your life.”

Daniel took a step back; his eyebrows rose and his lips slightly parted. After a moment, he snapped his mouth closed, the muscles in his jaw tightening. He turned away from Jessica, studying the pool table.

“Danny, what I went through. It was horrifying and you don’t just leave that behind. It follows you for the rest of your life. Tom and I have a connection. He was there; he saw what I went through, what it did to me. I didn’t think I’d ever feel safe again, but he gave that to me down there and it meant the world to me. He protected me when he could, and the times he couldn’t still haunt him,” she paused and Daniel looked over his shoulder at her. “As much as I loved you and the life we had together I never would have been able to go back. I would have never felt safe here.” She caught the raw hurt in his eyes and diverted her gaze to the pool table, lining up her next shot, the red-three-ball plunked into the pocket.

“Emily will be all right,” she added, changing the subject.

“Jess, she has cancer.”

“We’ll see.” She looked at the table assessing her next move, crossing to the bar and taking another swig of her wine cooler before returning her attention to the game.

Daniel grabbed her arm as she walked past him. “Cancer, Jess,” he emphasized.

Jessica stopped and looked into his eyes. “Not anymore.”

He let go of her, his mouth slowly dropping.

“I fixed her,” Jessica replied to his shocked gaze and took her next shot; the ball went into the pocket where she expected it to. She continued to clear the table and he stared at her, blinking every few seconds.

Jessica finished off her cooler after the last ball plunked into the pocket. “I think I’m gonna call it a night.” With that, she left her ex-husband staring at her dumbfounded.

Tom stirred a little as she crawled back into bed. He wrapped his arms around her again and yes, she still felt safe in his strong grasp.

Chapter 12

The next morning, Jessica woke early and slipped into her jogging clothes and shook Tom. “You coming?”

Confusion lit up his face for a moment and he glanced around the room, wiping the sleep from his eyes. He blinked and brought his gaze back to her with a nod. “In a sec,” he said and headed to the bathroom.

Jessica brushed her hair in the mirror and wrapped a hair band around her ponytail when the temperature in the room plummeted. Goose pimples peppered her flesh and she rubbed her arms glancing up at the air conditioning duct, the most logical source of the sudden cold draft. She returned her gaze to the mirror and gasped. Frank stood behind her in the reflection and he smiled the sadistic smile that promised violence and pain. The same one she remembered in the complex and fear balled in her stomach.

A frigid hand wrapped around her throat and his cool breath chuckled in her ear.

“No.” She struggled in vain as the ghost shoved her shorts to her knees.

“Oh yes.” He spun her toward the bed, pushing her over the side.

Her teeth chattered and she squeezed her eyes closed, filling her mind with the one name that she knew would hear her anywhere, blasting the silent siren with the force of an F-18 hitting mach one. Enduring the violent ice-cold thrusts, she glanced toward the mirror and whispered, “Ty help me!”

Frank laughed. “If you think my little brother can help you here, you are mistaken. When I’m done with you, I think I’ll go visit your daughter,” he whispered in her ear.

The mirrors in both the guest room and Emily’s room shattered to pieces, but not before Jessica saw the reflection of her savior’s angry blue eyes.

* * * *

The sound of shattering glass set him in motion and Tom flew into the room, his eyes darting from the shattered glass to her crumpled on the floor, landing on the dark bruises around her throat.

Crippling fear squeezed his heart and it took him a second to be able to draw a shaky breath. He closed the door behind him and shimmied past the shards, kneeling next to her, silently searching her eyes and what he saw turned his blood thick forcing his heart to pound harder. He gulped the last of the spit in his mouth.

“Frank was here,” she whispered and tears rolled down her cheeks.

He pulled her to his chest, praying he wasn’t trembling like she was. Picking her up, he set her on the bed and shifted, tracing his finger along the fading marks on her neck. A thousand questions clouded his mind and he returned his gaze to the shards on the floor. “You broke the mirror?”

“No.” She shook her head. “He did.”

Tom held her and stared at the shattered glass. No explanation was needed, he knew whom Jessica was referring to and at that moment both fear and a bizarre sense of relief accosted him.
Ty Aris, Jesus, it’s like he’s been appointed her guardian angel. How the hell do I deal with that?

He didn’t know how long the guardian angel routine would last before Chris crossed the line and hurt her again.