EPILOGUE #3
“Citizen tablets, Daughter.” My hearing becomes fuzzy as my eyes track his movements. He opens his black suit jacket and reaches into the inside pocket, extracting one of the handheld devices. “This one right here is the big guy’s—Player 4, I bel—”
I do not think, I simply lunge.
And drop to my knees, mouth opening on a silent scream as a wave of pain so torrential beats through me that my vision momentarily whites out. And still, I use every ounce of focus and strength I have within me to keep it on my side of the bond. This is only my agony to bear.
Father tuts. “Naughty, naughty.” He pauses for a short period of time while I shake my head, orienting myself, before continuing when I lift my chin to fire all my loathing at him.
He is still smirking, unbothered by my behaviour, so consumed by his victory.
A victory I helped bring about. “It was not hard to have our experts in The Council ensure every Player has an . . . off button, when I recently asked for an update.” His lips stretch wider while my heart drops lower and lower, a numbness trying to conquer me.
But I do not let it as I soak in his words and the meaning behind them:
“You are now able to kill Players without issue. You have added new commands to the Avri controlling the identification chips,” I say lowly.
“Smart girl.”
“But you have not.”
“I have not killed a Player, no. But it is not just Players whose Avri I have linked to that command; it is everyone with a citizen tablet. It is how I got rid of the woman who carried you for nine months. Eighteen years ago, she was the first and only I tested the new execution method on—I have had no need for it again until now. Her death was simply recorded as a heart attack when the Avri cut off all brain function.”
I do not feel anything at this revelation.
Other than the infection of fear.
For my Bonded.
It is weak. Shameful. Yet it is there. And I cannot remove the virus.
“Heartless, heartless, Ezla. No one can get to you, can they?” He pauses before he seethes, spittle flying from his mouth, “No one but them.”
Lovely. I really needed that on top of everything else.
“You will make sure they know you do not care for them. You are mine, Daughter. I will not have you whoring around.”
“Did you not just admit you are the one who put all this in motion? Maybe you should—”
“I will not tell you again.” His thumb hovers over the screen of the citizen tablet, over a button I can see reads ‘DELETE’, as if Players really are just that: players. Nothing else. Able to be removed with a simple click like in a video game.
My spine snaps straight.
I am on my knees before him, yet I do not care to get up until his finger moves away from what I have no doubt is the key to Tate’s instant death.
I do not want that.
And I know when my father is bluffing. This is not it.
“You will obey me from now on, Daughter. Or you can say goodbye to four of your Bonds. You only need one to be free of the Games. And then he will be gone, too.”
“You will kill them either way,” I spit out, heart starting to pound out a near-painful tempo in my chest, and I tell the stupid organ to shut the fuck up and calm the hell down, because I cannot fucking hear properly through the blood rushing in my ears.
He tilts his head. “Will I? Killing them all may arouse suspicion. Maybe I will keep them around, after all. Far away from you, of course, dearest. But they would still be alive and well, and the public would get to keep their favourite Bonded group.”
I am sure he thinks that was a very convincing speech.
It was not, but I do not have a choice but to go along with his attempted manipulations either way. My Bonded will either be dead now or dead later. I may as well buy some more time by playing along for now.
“You will warm my bed at night. You will not speak to anyone with your naked voice, face anyone with those features.”
I notch my chin up, refusing to show him weakness. But something within me seems to cripple, the promise I’d made to myself not even a half hour ago crushed under his heel, I know, before he even continues.
“You will put your helmet back on.”
The bars of my cage are almost complete.
“You will put your helmet back on, and you will not take it off. Not for anyone but me. I am your everything now. Do you understand?” His hand finds my chin and holds on with a bruising grip.
I wonder if my teeth will crack from how hard I gnash them.
Black pepper and wood assault my senses as he dips down closer to my level, towering over me in that way I hate. His face lowers towards mine, his hot breath leaving me struggling not to wrinkle my nose. “I said . . . Do. You. Understand?”
A beat.
“Yes, Father. I understand.”
And the final bar slams into place with a finalising clang.
Because there is no other option here, to save the men I have claimed as mine.
And now I am back to square one, reduced to nothing but a machine once more.
Just my father’s creation.
Just The Bonding Games Champion.
Just the little girl who cannot escape the Game Master and his sick desires.
I am Ezla Zefron, and no one can hurt me.