The Player Game

Chapter 23

Dedicated to the fan of the upload.  Thanks for sticking with me!

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E N J O Y

We scurry through the alleyways like mice.  No one speaks; the only things I can hear are the heavy pants as we try to recover from the fight and the hammering of our footsteps against concrete.  I follow closely behind Aaron, whose hand has a firm grip on my forearm.  The touch is reassuring.  Without it, I have no doubt that I’d lose my way in the darkness.

It's only when we emerge from the dark damp passageways that I allow myself to slow the pace a little.  My hand rises to my cheek, remembering how the knife had caught my skin there, finding a patch of warm blood.  Now that my mind is focused on the injury, the pain returns.

I realize that Aaron is leading us back to his house.  The lights are turned off and there's no car on the driveway, so hopefully his parents are not home.  I wouldn’t like to see their reaction when we burst through the door, bruised and bloody.

“Come on.”  Aaron ushers me through the door first, following close behind me.  Harry and Jerry are quick to join us, shutting the door behind them.

The lights flicker on, revealing the his familiar neat hallway. Everything is intact and orderly, almost like a slap in the face considering I must look the opposite. This time I have no time to marvel at the childhood portraits on the wall.

“Isn’t your sister home?” I ask, remembering the blue-eyed little girl who had greeted me the last time I came here.

“They’re all staying at a friend’s house,” he replies shortly, before quickly changing the subject as we enter the kitchen.  He releases my hand, moving swiftly to the phone on the wall and punching in a few numbers.  “Text Micky,” he orders without glancing towards me.  “I’m calling the police.”

I nod obediently, reaching for the hidden compartment in the inside of my dress.  Luckily, the phone is unharmed, and it works fine as I send a small text to Micky.  At Aaron’s house, ran into some trouble on the way.  Come quick. x

I know that the brief explanation will set Micky on his journey immediately.  There’s an unspoken acknowledgement between the two of us that any text with less than five kisses means that something major has happened.

I try to block out Aaron’s calm voice as he speaks on the phone, dropping into one of the kitchen chairs and squeezing my eyes shut to ward off the headache.  I place my head in my hands, breathing in deeply.  I can sense Harry and Jerry moving around the kitchen, probably retrieving a first aid kit from the cupboards.

“Are you okay?” Aaron’s voice cuts through the silence in my mind.

I open my eyes, picking my heavy head up as look into a pair of worried blue eyes.  They widen as my face comes into view.  I look back down in shame.  The cut on my face must be really ugly.  What if it scars as well?

“Shit!” he curses loudly, kneeling before me, and using his thumb to tilt my chin to the side to get a better look.  “What happened?”

“I got caught by the knife,” I mutter, attempting to pull a wry smile.  The attempt only increases the pain in the right side of my face.  “But it’s not as bad as you,” I add, taking in the nasty cut on his lip and the swelling around his left eye, not to mention the large bruise on his jaw.