Chapter 23
Exhaustion made sure Geri slept right through the heat, the pain, and the horrific projections. One of those precious pills from Art sealed the deal.
If Rich was worried she wasn’t getting the full effect of the things he had playing on her walls and through the speakers, he didn’t need to be. Her nightmares made sure that even while she was asleep, she didn’t forget why she was here.
The shower was painful, the lukewarm water lighting up every scratch, scrape, and sunburn. Drying off was an exercise in carefully dabbing at tender skin, just barely touching it with the rough towel to absorb the water without pissing off the nerve endings.
As she was getting dressed, she caught her own reflection in the mirror, and she stared.
Her cheeks were gaunt, her eyes sunken. The sun and the heat had left her lips painfully chapped. Her sunbaked skin was a deep salmon color in some places, a dark tan in others. She could almost hear her mother tsking over sun damage and how she’d have spots and wrinkles later in life, not to mention cancer. Her sister would be telling her how murderously jealous she was that she had to pay thousands to replicate the things the sun naturally did to Geri’s hair.
The thought brought tears to her eyes, and she covered her mouth as she tried not to break down. In that moment, she’d have given anything to listen to her mom lecture her about skincare. She’d have sawed off a limb to hear Annette talking about how much more even her tan would be if she came along to a tanning salon or spent some time laying out on the beach. Even her sister’s petulant whining about losing the genetic lottery while the sun bestowed flawless natural highlights on Geri—that would all be music to her ears right now.
What would happen to them if Geri didn’t make it home? Rich had made it clear he intended to take out the people who’d built their mountains of wealth, and he’d follow that money from heir to heir until someone finally reconnected with their humanity. The thought of her mother or sister enduring this torture made her sick to her stomach.
She was so exhausted and full of despair, she wanted to crumble to the floor, and filled with a resilient drive to survive this. To win this competition so she could go home and spare the people she loved from the hell she’d been enduring for… for… however long she’d been on this purgatorial island.
“I’m going to survive,” she croaked to her reflection. “I’m going to fucking win.”
Winning means everyone else dies. Everyone but you. You have to beat them and let them all die horrible deaths so you can win.
But losing means my family suffers and dies too.
I have to fucking win.
She didn’t know how. She didn’t even know if Rich would make good on sending one of them home alive.
But she had to try.
The remaining players were, unsurprisingly, summoned back to the boardroom. Geri joined the others in the bloody room, and there they waited for Rich to show up and tell them how they’d be traumatized all to hell today.
Tyson stood beside the door, silent and stoic as ever. No Rich. No Kevin. No instructions.
After a while, Kyle sat up. “We’re missing a couple of people.”
Geri looked around. Sure enough, Alan’s chair wasn’t the only one newly vacant this morning. Her rattled brain took a second to catch up and figure out who, but Charlie Simmons was faster.
“That slut,” he growled. “She and Woolman are probably screwing again.” He gave a haughty sniff. “I hope Price makes an example of them.”
That earned him disgusted glares from everyone present.
Geri shook her head and avoided looking at him. Charlie was exactly the kind of man her mother had always warned her against marrying—possessive and controlling even after cheating and leaving. He was also exactly the kind of man her father had always introduced her to in hopes of marrying because it would be “good for the family” and “good for business.”
And everyone wondered how she was forty-three and still single.
The boardroom door opened, and Geri braced. Rich was on his way in with a new torturous game, wasn’t he?
Except it wasn’t Rich.
Kevin leaned in and whispered something to Tyson, who swore under his breath before following Kevin out of the room. The door swung shut behind them, and Geri and the others looked at each other, confusion and alarm written all over their faces.
That was… unusual.
“Do you think they made a run for it?” Paul asked.
Charlie made a derisive sound. “Elena would rather stay here and die than voluntarily go out there.” He gestured toward the jungled end of the island. “She’s not going anywhere without a driver and a—”
“Charlie,” Quinn said flatly. “Shut up.”
Geri had to bite back a laugh, both at Quinn’s comment and Charlie’s obvious offense to the same. Charlie did shut up, though.
A solid twenty minutes after Tyson left with Kevin, the door opened again.
Dan walked in, his face pale and his eyes wide with shock. Alarm ratcheted up in Geri; he’d been a shell-shocked mess after the tank challenge, same as the rest of them, but now he was shaken in a way she couldn’t figure out.
“Dan?” Quinn asked. “You okay?”
Dan swallowed. He stared at Quinn, then let his gaze drift around the room. When he finally spoke, his voice was brittle and raw: “Elena’s dead.”
Everyone gasped and murmured—except for Charlie.
“You did this!” He flew across the table at Dan, almost stumbling on the slick surface before he grabbed Dan’s shirt and throat, both of them toppling to the floor. “You killed her! You did it! You—”
“I didn’t kill her!” Dan cried as they grappled on the bloodstained carpet. “I didn’t—Charlie, calm down!” He managed to overpower the man enough to get him into a headlock, and they were both still, if panting and shaking. “Calm down,” he said again. “I did not kill her.”
“She’s dead because of you!” Charlie gritted out, his face turning purple. “You were with her!”
“I didn’t kill her,” Dan growled. “She was—”
Charlie roared and shoved an elbow back into Dan’s midsection. Dan grunted, loosening his grip enough for Charlie to wrench free. Once again, they were fighting, fists flying as Quinn and Paul tried to haul them apart.
Quinn managed to get a handful of Charlie’s shirt, and he twisted it as he grabbed Charlie’s arm. Paul got an arm around Dan, and they dragged the two men away from each other.
Geri stepped in between them, a hand on each of their chests. “Enough,” she snapped. “Both of you.”
The men stilled, though they were clearly not done.
Geri kept her hand on Charlie’s chest to hold him back and turned to Dan. “What happened to Elena?”
Dan winced, wiping blood from his nose with a trembling hand. “I don’t know. We went to bed last night”—he flicked his eyes toward Charlie as if expecting him to lunge for him—“and this morning… she was gone. Just… gone.”
“She died in her sleep?” Paul asked.
Shaking his head, Dan swallowed hard. “We both had some pills left from Art Keller. And when I looked, her stash was empty. She should’ve had enough to last at least a few more days. I think…” He grimaced. “I think she took them all.”
Charlie made a miserable, pained sound, and he sank onto the edge of the table. “Oh God. Ellie.”
“Oh, fuck you,” Dan snarled. “You hated her. You’ve hated her ever since—”
“You know nothing!” Charlie threw back. “And wouldn’t your wife like to know you’ve been screwing another man’s wife while—”
“She’s not your wife, you fucking oxygen thief! You left her! She doesn’t belong to you!”
Charlie roared with fury, shoved Geri aside, and lunged at Dan.
Paul and Quinn again tried to separate them, and Kyle touched Geri’s shoulder. “You all right?”
She nodded and accepted his help getting to her feet.
The two men were brawling furiously now, slamming each other around and throwing fists as Paul and Quinn tried to get in between.
Charlie got his hands around Dan’s throat, and Dan levered himself up and threw them both back.
Paul and Quinn darted out of the way… leaving them a clear path to crash right into the table.
Dan slammed Charlie against the edge, and Charlie cried out in pain as he released Dan’s throat. Dan seized the opportunity, grabbed the front of Charlie’s shirt, and swung him around before letting him go. Momentum carried Charlie into one of the windows. He slammed his head against the glass before crumpling to his knees, stunned.
Dan watched him, breathing hard as blood trickled from his nose and the corner of his mouth.
Geri held her breath, glancing at the others who seemed to be doing the same, as if they were all wondering if Charlie would back down or if Dan would finish him off.
Charlie pulled himself upright, and when he glared at Dan, this clearly wasn’t over.
“Charlie,” Kyle said. “Buddy, you need to stop. We’re in this together, okay? We can’t—”
“I’m not in anything together with this son of a bitch,” Charlie growled, and then he came at Dan again. He staggered a little, but caught himself.
Dan pushed off the table and threw a fist into Charlie’s face.
The impact sent Charlie spinning, then toppling, and he landed hard on his back, his skull hitting the floor with a loud crack .
Charlie stilled.
“Oh, shit,” Dan whispered, dropping to his knees beside Charlie. He shook the man’s shoulder. “Come on, Charlie. Wake up.”
Kyle and Geri joined him. Charlie was still breathing. His pulse was still strong.
Blood was pooling behind his head, though.
“What do we do?” Kyle asked. “Because I don’t think they’ll airlift him to a hospital or—”
Charlie arched between them, his entire body wracked by a violent convulsion.
“Put him on his side!” Paul said. “Put him on his side so if he throws up, he doesn’t aspirate!”
Geri and Dan grabbed Charlie and tried to roll him, which was a challenge while he was seizing.
“He needs a hospital,” Dan said. “Fucking hell, he needs—”
“How the hell do we get him to a hospital?” Quinn snapped. “Even if Rich and his thugs would take him to one, we’re hours away from anything.”
“It’s worth a shot!” Paul got up and sprinted for the door. “I’ll get help!”
Geri exchanged glances with Quinn and Dan. Their grim expressions matched what she felt; the odds of anyone getting Charlie someplace that could help him were slim at best to start with. The odds of RightPriceTek actually helping him get somewhere?
Charlie stopped seizing, but he was unconscious. No one could rouse him. Quinn offered his shirt to stanch the bleeding, and Dan and Geri kept Charlie on his side so he didn’t aspirate.
The convulsions started again. Dan and Geri didn’t try to hold him still, but they at least tried to keep him from flopping onto his back.
He was settling down again when the doors opened, and in walked Tyson with Paul on his heels. “What the fuck happened here?”
“He attacked me,” Dan said quickly. “I… I wasn’t trying to hurt him, just stop him from—”
Tyson shoved Dan out of the way, sending him into Quinn, who helped to steady him. Tyson scowled down at Charlie, who was still twitching as blood ran from his mouth. He must’ve bitten his tongue during the convulsions.
He pulled open one of Charlie’s eyes. Then the other. Checked his pulse. Did something to his throat—checking to see if he protected his airway, maybe? Geri wasn’t sure.
Right then, Kevin strolled into the room. He peered down at Charlie. “How bad?”
“He’s not dead yet.” Tyson pushed himself to his feet. “But I doubt there’s anyone behind the wheel anymore.”
Geri stared at him. Yeah, she could believe that Charlie was probably brain-dead, but did he have to be quite such a dick about it?
Then she remembered who he was, who he worked for, why they were all here…
God, it was a wonder he hadn’t come in and just shot Charlie through the head without bothering to check for signs of life.
Maybe they wanted him to survive so they could torture and execute him.
She shuddered, cold sweat like slime on her neck and back.
“All of you,” Kevin ordered. “Down to the beach. The boss will decide what happens next.”
Dan paled. “‘What happens next’? I—look, I didn’t kill Elena. And this”—he flailed a hand at Charlie—“was a fucking accident. I didn’t—”
“I don’t give a fuck.” Kevin gestured at the door. “Down to the beach. Now.”
Everyone glanced at each other, confusion and terror written on their faces.
“Now!” Kevin barked.
They all got up and hurried toward the elevator, leaving Charlie with Kevin and Tyson.
As they rode down, no one said a word.
What was there to say?
Elena was dead.
Charlie was dying.
And they were all still at the mercy of Rich Price.