Chapter 7 – Ben #2
“I know. You looked me in the eye,” I said. “It stuck with me.”
Her breath trembled.
“Jacob…” she murmured. “It was just first aid.”
I turned toward her, letting her see the weight in my eyes even in the dim light.
“Not to me.”
Thunder rolled somewhere deep in the clouds.
She shifted on the truck’s bench seat and picked at her cuticles, suddenly nervous.
“This… Game… is it dangerous?”
I nodded as I wound around another curve.
“Yes.”
She inhaled sharply and wrung her hands.
“But not in the way you’re thinking,” I added. “You won’t be harmed.”
Not in the sense you’re worried about, anyway. But you will learn a few things about pain and pleasure while we play, my love.
“Then how is it dangerous?”
I let a slow, deliberate silence fill the cab.
“You know the primary requirement,” I said. “The danger lies in violating that requirement, or displeasing Mr. Stonewood in any way, really.”
Chrissy wet her lips.
“Don’t fall in love,” she whispered.
“Don’t fall in love with the wrong person,” I corrected. “There’s a vast difference between those two things.”
She stared at me, like she felt the trap closing, and still stepped toward it.
“And who’s the wrong person?” she asked softly.
I looked at her… really looked at her, for as long as I could before I had to flick my gaze back to the road in front of us.
“You’ll figure it out,” I said. “You’re an intelligent woman, from what I can tell.”
Her hands fluttered in her lap, like she didn’t know what to do with the compliment.
We crested the rise in the road and the lodge appeared ahead of us, massive, shadowed, and lit from within like a beast waking up after a long slumber.
Chrissy gasped.
“It’s… huge.”
“It should be. It belongs to a billionaire, after all,” I said. “Hell, you might as well call Mr. Stonewood the fucking king of this town, even though he hasn’t been seen in public for years. His family founded the whole damn town, and pumped their money into it like lifeblood for generations.”
She turned her head sharply toward me.
“Why do you say things like that?”
“Because they’re true.”
I pulled around the circle drive to the front door. The actors intended to play the decoys of me were already inside. The house was humming. Every piece of the Game was in place… except for her.
I put the truck in park.
“You’re late,” I said quietly. “But maybe he’ll forgive you for it.”
She lifted her chin.
“That’s comforting.”
I didn’t smile.
“Go inside, Miss Jones, before he decides to eliminate you based on tardiness alone.”
She opened the door, then paused and looked back at me.
“Jacob?” Her voice was soft and almost frightened.
What are you so scared of, darling?
I cleared my throat.
“Yeah?”
“…will I see you again?”
Oh, sweetheart. You have no idea just how much you’re about to see of me this week.
“I’m a member of the staff, and Mr. Stonewood wanted all hands on deck for the Game,” I said, voice low. “So yeah, you’ll see me around.”
She stepped out into the cold, the lodge towering above her like a rustic version of a gothic castle. She paused for a terrifyingly long moment, then squared her shoulders and walked in, and just like that… the Game had officially begun.
I watched her go with the kind of hunger that could level cities, then pulled out my phone and typed fast.
Me
I’m coming inside for a moment before I tow her car up to the lodge.
She forgot her suitcase in the bed of my truck.
I’m going to give it to her, and I’m betting she’ll speak to me.
I’ll speak back. I’ll gently reprimand her and tell her Mr. Stonewood expressly forbids contestants from fraternizing with the help.
Imply that ‘Jacob’ is just a lowly groundskeeper and not worthy of her notice. See how she reacts.
Henry’s reply came seconds later.
Henry
Careful, kid.
I smirked. Careful had never been in my nature.
I grabbed her suitcase from the bed of the truck, her soft, rosy floral scent clinging to the nylon like a bruise, and slipped through the side entrance of the lodge. The service hallway was dim, quiet, humming with the heat that poured from the vents.
I stepped into the main foyer just as the other guests were turning to survey Chrissy after her late arrival.
She’d stopped dead center of the room, bathed in the golden glow from the massive chandelier above her, chin tilted up, dark eyes wide as she took in the vaulted ceiling and massive stone fireplace with a fire blazing inside to combat the cold from the coming ice storm.
I stepped into the room, but no one noticed me yet. All eyes were on her.
“Miss Jones?” I kept my voice as Jacob pitched low, deferential.
Not the steel I used over conference calls with the board. Not the knife-edge I used with my enemies.
This voice was one I only ever used with her.
She turned, surprise flickering across her features when she saw me holding her suitcase.
“You forgot this,” I said.
“Oh, God. Thank you.” She stepped forward, her hand brushing mine as she took the handle. It was a small touch, a tiny one in fact, but it hit me like a match dropped into dry tinder. She blinked up at me. “Jacob… I didn’t get to say thank you again earlier. For the ride up to the lodge.”
My jaw flexed.
This was the moment I had planned for, where I’d gently discourage her interest and put up a wall just to see if she pushed.
“Miss Jones,” I said softly, “Mr. Stonewood expressly forbids contestants from fraternizing with the help.”
Her brows lifted.
“Fraternizing?”
“I’m a groundskeeper,” I said, letting the word fall like a stone between us. “A servant. Not someone worthy of a contestant’s time or attention, especially considering this competition exists to help him choose a wife.”
Her mouth opened, lips parting in indignation, and then a voice cut in from behind her.
“Well, if you’re looking for someone to fraternize with,” the decoy drawled, “you’re welcome to start with me.”
It was her assigned partner, number seven. The actor… a six-foot-three black-haired blue-eyed mistake in a black domino mask with a strong jaw and shit for brains. He actually could have passed for me pre-accident. All nine of the decoy Bens could.
Every muscle in my body went still, and I had to resist the urge to throttle him, even though this was all part of my master plan.
Chrissy startled, turning toward him. He gave her a thousand-watt movie star smile and a slow, appreciative once-over, running with the script I’d paid him to stick to. Still, I had an overwhelming urge to gouge his fucking eyes out for looking at my girl like that.
“Oh my god,” she muttered under her breath. “Seriously?”
He extended his hand lazily, took hers, and pulled her against him, hard. For just a second, his lips came down on hers, as if he couldn’t help himself, then he stepped back a fraction and spoke.
“Number 7, sweetheart. Looks like we’re matched for the challenges this week. Can’t say I’m upset about it.”
Territorial rage snapped through my spine so fierce and white-hot I nearly dropped the facade right then and there.
Henry was across the foyer in two strides, playing along with the staged situation instantly. He met my eyes.
I didn’t speak. I didn’t have to.
Henry turned to the actor.
“Number seven, you’re dismissed.”
Seven blinked.
“What?”
“You’re done,” Henry said, his deep, silky voice perfectly calm and precise. “Turn in your mask and leave the property immediately.”
“But — the game—”
“The game’s rules have been violated.”
Henry didn’t even raise his voice. That was the dangerous part. He didn’t have to.
Seven sputtered, tried to recover, then remembered recovery wasn’t an option.
He stormed out through the side hallway, muttering curses that sold the lie spectacularly.
On the other side of the room, the rest of the women shifted and looked at each other, each obviously weighing up the fact that they now knew that number seven wasn’t the real Ben Stonewood.
The foyer went very, very quiet as Henry turned to Chrissy.
“Unfortunately,” he said with crisp finality, “you no longer have a partner. And no contestant may enter the Game without one. Unless someone volunteers to stand in for him, you cannot continue, and you will be escorted off the property.”
Chrissy stiffened, eyes flashing.
“You’re kidding.”
“No, Miss Jones, I’m afraid I’m quite serious. I’m sure that you read the rules.”
She crossed her arms, the picture of defiance. My girl was drop dead gorgeous and practically built to be my undoing.
“So some idiot breaks the rules, and I’m the one who’s punished for it?”
Henry opened his mouth, but I stepped forward before he could speak.
“I’ll do it,” I said.
My voice wasn’t loud, but it carried through the foyer like I’d just cocked a gun in the middle of a party.
Chrissy’s head snapped toward me.
“You?” she echoed, her expression painfully hopeful.
Henry’s gaze cut sideways, sharp as a warning flare. He knew what I was thinking. He always did.
“Jacob,” Henry said sharply, “you are speaking out of turn. You know what will happen because of it.”
I lowered my eyes.
“Yes, sir.”
“And yet you volunteer?”
Henry played the disbelieving master of ceremonies to perfection.
“Yes.”
I nodded, but didn’t raise my gaze to meet Henry’s again. To any outsider, it would look like Henry outranked me.
Henry looked at Chrissy next, studying her, weighing her reactions, reading her as ruthlessly as I did.
“Miss Jones?” he asked. “Would you accept help from a lowly groundskeeper to remain in the Game?”
Chrissy’s jaw set. Those big, brown eyes flashed with fire and defiance, and, God help me, she went feral in exactly the way I’d hoped she would.
“There’s nothing lowly about a hardworking man,” she snapped. “Servant or not.”
A ripple of titters moved through the gathered contestants, along with a few whispers. The blonde in the corner smirked. One of the Ben decoys muttered ‘damn’.
Henry didn’t smile, but he approved with a sharp nod.
“Very well,” he said. “Jacob will be your partner in the Game.”
My heart swelled in my chest. Everything was going according to plan.
Chrissy exhaled in sheer relief, and I kept my expression neutral as Jacob.
But inside? Inside, I was already dragging her into my gravity well.
Already planning the first challenge, tasting the moment when she realized who I was.
I couldn’t help imagining the sound she’d make when she put the pieces together and learned the truth: She didn’t stumble into the Game.
She was always meant to be the prize.