Chapter 32
Luca
Most games allow several saving slots.
You can save, try something, and when in doubt, reload.
Sounds like a dream, doesn’t it? But no such thing in Desolate Dread.
Your actions have consequences. Live with them—or they’ll be your downfall.
“Everything all right?” Akito’s looking at me, head cocked to one side.
“Hmm? Yeah, why do you ask?”
“Because you’re zoned out, and you’ve shredded that cardboard coaster to bits.” I follow his gaze down to the little green-and-white shreds on the table between us.
“Long day,” I say evasively, but judging by Akito’s expression, he knows exactly where my thoughts are right now: with Lara, and focused on the worry in her eyes when she picked up the phone just now.
“I need the loo; just a minute.” I set my beer down on the soggy remains of my coaster and follow Lara out to the ballroom—and away from the toilets, but there’s no fooling Akito anyway.
The ballroom is pleasantly quiet and empty, and my shoulders drop the moment I close the door behind me.
It’s dark, apart from the green glowing emergency exit signs.
Or at least I thought so, but after a few yards, I can see a yellow-golden glow coming from the corner where our booths are.
The fairy lights in the book nook are on.
I approach slowly, cautiously, like I’m in my game, possibly about to enter enemy territory.
For all I know, Lara would rather be alone.
When I see her, I’m immediately taken back to a few weeks ago. She’s nearly lying in the armchair, eyes closed. But this time she seems more peaceful, not haunted like she was after her performance. Seeing her like this calms me down more than the quiet expanse of the ballroom ever could.
“Hey,” I whisper, because I’d rather not wake her if she’s asleep.
But her eyes pop open, and she nearly jumps out of her armchair. “God, you gave me a fright!”
“Sorry.” I run a hand through my hair, which is already standing on end after my long workday. “You were gone so suddenly, and you looked so worried when that call came in.”
“I’m sorry. I meant to go back in a moment, but it was just too cozy in here.”
This little room couldn’t contrast more with the gloomy booth where I spent my entire day.
When I see their team photograph on the desk, I smile.
It wasn’t there yesterday; I assume Sophia placed it there some time later.
My gaze falls on her laughing face, and straightaway, my guilty conscience comes knocking.
She has an arm thrown around Lara and the other around Nataly, along with Aria and two more colleagues; they’re all beaming at the camera.
I wonder how much longer those carefree smiles will be on their faces.
Hank has got to strike at some point. He told us he would.
He’s too calculating and ambitious to let it rest—and why should he?
It’s his right. But even if none of this were to jeopardize Lara’s career, the betrayal’s going to hit her hard. I’m sure of it.
“My parents called,” Lara says, pulling me out of my dark thoughts.
“They saw a news report on the telly about GameChanger. It was . . .” She frowns, but then she smiles.
“Normal. More normal than it’s been with them in ages.
Maybe seeing it all become real is helping them.
Maybe now they’ll understand why I care so much.
” Lara gazes around her booth as well, like she’s seeing it for the first time.
“My mum said this place reminds her of our living room. But she didn’t sound sad. ”
I want to be happy for her, but my thoughts and my guilty conscience are washing away all my pleasant feelings. I’ve got to tell her, haven’t I? Lara has poured her heart and soul into Novel Haven, as well as her past, and even her family.
“Do you want to go for a walk?”
“Around the ballroom?”
“I was thinking the gardens.”
“But it’s getting dark out.”
I reach into my jeans pocket, pull out my torch, and switch it on.
“Really clever merch,” Lara says with a chuckle.
“I know, right? It even has a party mode.” I press the little button again, and the light starts to strobe, illuminating the inside of the booth.
Lara laughs quietly. “Not bad. Does Zachary have any reason to party in-game?”
“Oh no,” I tell her, holding out my hand to pull her to her feet. Her fingers curl around mine, and heat surges through me, pooling in the pit of my stomach.
“So much for the clever merchandise,” Lara says. “Well then, into the creepy gardens!”
“They’re not creepy,” I protest.
“This is an old manor with stone statues and high hedges. And it’s nearly dark. Course it’s creepy.”
“Now I know why you don’t like horror games. You’re a scaredy-cat,” I tease her, ducking away with a laugh as she swipes at me. It’s so damned easy with her. As usual. Being with her shows me how much of that lightness I’ve lost in my day-to-day life.
We make it to the manor gardens without meeting anyone.
The air outside is nippy, but not cold, and from somewhere in the shadows, we can hear the quiet trickle of a fountain.
The hoot of an owl comes from the trees, but other than that, it’s complete silence.
No street noises, no partying crowds. Nothing.
“Wow,” Lara says, tilting her head back. “I don’t remember the last time I saw this many stars.”
I stop and follow her gaze. “Almost makes you want to move out to the countryside, doesn’t it?”
“No way. I’m from the countryside, and believe me: It’s not that great.
” Lara starts moving, walking away from the estate and further into the darkness, until the half-moon is the only thing lighting our way.
At least we won’t run into anyone out here.
I switch my torch back on, pointing its round beam at the path in front of us.
“Were you born in London then?” Lara inquires.
“Yep. I’ve only ever lived in the city.”
“Lucky.” She turns her head in my direction. “Though it can’t have been easy, with everything that happened.”
I nod slowly. “Sure. But still, there’s no place I’d rather be. I love London. It’s much more than a city; it’s a feeling.”
“I know what you mean. I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.
I can be myself there. It’s so colorful and diverse that I don’t even stand out.
London’s for everyone, and . . .” She stops mid-sentence.
“Oh my God, is that a swing?” Lara asks, and her voice cracks with excitement in the absolute most charming way possible.
She speeds up, and indeed, as I raise the beam of my torch, it falls on a swing set.
There are no classic swings for sitting, only a gigantic, round one made of a rope net.
Lara runs toward it and, without hesitation, throws herself into it.
“Go on, give me a push!”
“Give me a push, please.”
“Give me a push, please,” Lara repeats my words back at me, wearing a broad grin that makes me glow on the inside.
It draws my attention straight to her lips.
I curse myself for it. I want to kiss Lara.
Everything inside me wants to kiss her. At the same time, Hank’s words run through my mind like a broken record.
But it’s less the words themselves, warning me away from Lara that’s plaguing me, and more my guilty conscience.
I should tell her. Instead, I clear my throat, place the torch down on the ground, pointing it up at a large beech tree.
Then I take up position behind Lara to give the swing a push.
She leans back, clasping her hands behind her head and looking up at me. “With those upper arm muscles, I would’ve expected a bit more of a shove, to be honest.”
I raise my eyebrows in disbelief. “That’s rich for someone I could push out of this swing.”
“Big words for someone who would never dare.”
Despite the tension in my body, her words make me laugh.
We’re silent for a while, and the cool air and the silence steady my thoughts a little.
Or at least until Lara puts her hand on mine where it rests on the rope.
The swing loses momentum, until it stops in front of me.
From where I’m standing above and behind her, I can see Lara swallowing in the dusk, her eyes almost dark brown in the low light.
She props herself up on her elbows, bringing her face closer to mine.
I stand there, leaning over her, or at least that was the plan, but my body moves toward her automatically, like it’s no longer mine, until she’s very close.
In the dim light of the torch, I can see her eyes widening.
She pushes herself up some more until my breath brushes her lips, and her breath brushes mine.
In the low light, I can see goose bumps erupting around her neckline, and I’m quite confident it’s not because of the cold.
The sight sets my insides on fire. A wave of desire rolls over me.
There’s nothing I’d rather do than pull her up the last few inches and tilt my head so our lips meet.
Lara’s lips part; I can see the silent plea in her eyes, and I’m about to give in—to forget everything, to simply turn off my brain for a moment and let go.
A subtle smile twitches the corners of Lara’s mouth.
It’s the only warning I get before her mouth finds mine.
I lean in, returning her kiss—without holding back this time.
Hank’s words are forgotten, and so is the fact that we’re competitors.
I part her lips with my tongue, explore her and her taste, getting lost in it.
My muscles start to ache, because I’m still gripping the swing, but in that instant, I don’t care.
I only loosen my grip on the ropes when we break apart, breathless.
Then I walk around the swing and let Lara pull me down onto it.
I lean over her, and my lips find hers again.
Lara moans quietly into my mouth as I press myself against her, and it’s like the sound flips a switch inside me, making me throw the last bit of caution out the window.
I deepen our kiss, steadying myself on her waist, and then I let my lips wander down her neck.
Her scent nearly makes me lose my mind. Just like her legs, which she’s wrapping around my hips now.
Her skirt slides up dangerously far with the movement, and the sight is enough to make me hard.
I put a hand on her thigh. Fuck, but her skin’s so soft.
Lara digs her fingers into my back, pulling me closer.
She seems to feel how hot I am for her, because she moans again. Louder, this time. I look up.
“Lara,” I say, barely recognizing my voice for how low it’s become. “If anyone hears us, we’ll both get kicked out of the competition for desecrating Rodrick Crow’s kids’ swing.”
“I so do not give a fuck about the competition right now.” Her voice is as husky as mine, and she wraps her legs tighter around me, pulling me back down on top of her.
And hell, the more she touches me, the less I care about the prize money.
I don’t think winning would ever make me feel as good as what Lara’s doing right now.
She twists her trembling hands into the back of my shirt, pulling it up to expose my skin to the cold night air.
Next, I feel heat as she drags her nails slowly down my back.
I let my mouth wander again, first to the back of her neck and then lower, down to her throat.
Feeling her excited shiver puts a smile on my face.
I love that I have this effect on her. I love that she can let go like this, and that she’s so different with me.
Maybe that’s why I manage to pluck up the courage.
I move away from her, ignoring her fingers hooking in my hair to pull me back, and go lower until my lips copy the movements my fingers made on her thighs.
Lara lets out a whimpering noise, and that coupled with the smell of her wetness makes my cock twitch. I want her. Not just her body—her. More than I want this win, more than the prize money. I want to explore her, every inch of her skin and every single one of her darkest thoughts.
I’m irrevocably lost.
Game over.
And I couldn’t care less.
I keep kissing my way along Lara’s legs, feeling goose bumps under my lips.
Lara moans again, smothering the sound with her hand until it comes out muffled.
It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. My fingers slide onto her bottom, but they pause as I catch a glimpse of the fine lettering above her knee sock.
“‘See with eyes unclouded by hate,’” I read aloud.
Lara looks up, cheeks flushed, a slight smile on her lips. “You found my tattoo.”
“Cute that you think I’m such a gentleman,” I tell her with a chuckle. “I was already looking at your legs earlier. But I never got close enough to read it.” I trace the fine lines with my index finger. “Is it a quote?”
Lara nods. “From a film. I’ve always loved this quote. I had it done when I started at PixelPulse and was able to dive into Novel Haven for the first time. Because it finally felt like I was able to live by that sentence. Working on the game cleared my thoughts, and it gave me back some hope.”
Her smile breaks a barrier deep inside me, and suddenly, everything we are doing feels like betrayal. The touching, my lying on top of her, pretending like everything’s fine even though I know the opposite is the case. I clear my throat and get to my feet, setting the swing moving again.
“Everything all right?” Lara sounds unsettled. No surprise there. I shouldn’t have done this, shouldn’t have let things get this far. I should go. I should shut up and turn around. But when my eyes meet hers, I see the worry in them—and I can’t. So I shake my head.
“I don’t know.” My voice is husky, but no longer with longing. I clear my throat again.
“What’s wrong?”
“How did Sophia come up with the idea for your game?” I ask in return.
Lara blinks at me, visibly confused at the change of subject.
“She’s always loved books. She grew up in a children’s home; books were her refuge.
A friend of hers started a literary agency where she used to help out.
So it was clear to her from the start that her game had to be about books in some way.
You know, reading and gaming were safe places for me. I suppose it was the same for her.”
Every one of her words drops another stone into the pit of my stomach.
“Why do you ask?”
I try to answer, but I close my mouth again without a sound. What are the right words in this sort of situation? Or does it even matter? There’s no gentle way of destroying someone’s dreams, after all. “I . . . Listen, this might sound absurd at first, but I need you to trust me.”
“OK,” Lara replies, frowning.
“Sophia didn’t come up with the idea for the game herself.”
“What?” Lara’s laughing, but as her eyes meet mine, the sound subsides, and a deep furrow forms between her brows. “What are you saying?”
“Novel Haven wasn’t Sophia’s idea. The game’s stolen, Lara.”