Five Fights (The Game of Life #5)
Belle Brooks
For all emergency service personnel.
Every day you put your lives on the line to protect and serve others.
You run into conflict whilst we run for shelter.
Thank you for your bravery and heroic actions.
Thank you for saving lives.
A NOTE TO THE READER
The Game of Life Novella Series is comprised of five parts. To enjoy this highly suspenseful psychological thriller, it’s advised that you read each book in the correct order as shown below.
Book One – One Fear
Book Two –Two Footsteps
Book Three – Three Breaths
Book Four – Four Hearts
Book Five – Five Fights
These books have been written using UK English and contain euphemisms and slang words that form part of the Australian spoken word, which is the basis of this book’s writing style.
Please remember that the words are not misspelled. They are slang terms and form part of everyday Australian vernacular.
Reid
I sit watching the hands on the clock rotate slowly, so slowly it appears they don’t move at all. 3:40 a.m., and still no word. Not a whisper. Nothing.
Shaky breaths part my lips. My jaw clenches tight at the same time as my hands. My stomach rolls like a tidal wave, then knots into a tight ball. Why haven’t we heard anything? Is no news good news?
He places his hands on the breakfast bar. His platinum wedding ring flashes past my vision, catching my attention. I can see the grazes on his knuckles and hear every unsteady breath he takes, but I don’t look up and meet Cruise’s gaze. Instead, I turn my eyes back to those slowly rotating hands barely circling the clock.
He clears his throat, but says nothing. I know he wants me to look at him, but I won’t. I can’t.
Since Cruise’s return three hours ago, we’ve kept distance between each other. I’m mad, in pain, and on the verge of an internal death, one that will obliviate any chance of me coming out of this the same person I once was. I have no fight left. I’m not even sure what is left to fight for. I know my brother didn’t take Morgan—the police have cleared him—but I hadn’t realised how much I needed Cruise to be here by my side in the most difficult moment of my life. He wasn’t here. Now that he is, I want him to leave.
It remains quiet in the house, apart from each breath Cruise takes and the ticking sound from the clock.
The storm whipped, beat, and thrashed the earth until just after midnight. It was loud, violent, and powerful, worse than the weather the night Morgan disappeared, and I can’t help thinking that if she was out there in that, I doubt she’d have survived. What shelter did she have, if any?
I thought the storm would never stop, even though I pleaded for it to, for Morgan’s sake, for ours, for the officers who were out searching for her.
Eventually, it did, just as abruptly as it arrived. An eerie calm has since replaced those furious howls of wind, and no matter how hard I try to shake an overwhelming sense of doom, I can’t.
“Reid,” Cruise whispers. “Everyone’s asleep.”
I don’t give him my attention or answer. Instead, I keep my eyes fixated on the clock.
“I’m so sorry, brother. If I had known, I would have been here in a heartbeat.”
It’s too late for apologies.
“Talk to me. Please.”
I close my eyes and try to pretend he’s not even standing there. I just want Cruise to disappear and go back to his mate’s place, far, far away from me.
“Talk to me.”
“Nothing to say,” I murmur.
“But there is. I’m here.” He pauses. “I’m here for you. Let me help you.”
“Find Morgan. Bring her home,” I punch out. “That’s the only help I want.”
“I will. Tell me how, and I’ll bring her home.”
Mechanically, I rotate my head. “If I knew, wouldn’t you think I’d have taken care of it myself already.”
He blinks. His lips part. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat, forcing his mouth to close. “I’d never hurt Morgan. You know that, right?” Cruise speaks softly. His eyes are pleading when they connect with mine.
I nod.
“Together, you and me, we can work this puzzle out. I know we can.”
“You stink really bad.” He does, like a mix of stale ale, rotten eggs, and the unique, pungent odour of papaya. I want to dry heave with each inhale.
“Yeah. I fucked up, okay? I need to pull my head in and get my shit together.”
“You need a shower first.”
He grins. “That bad, hey?”
“Worse than having my head stuffed inside a horse’s arse.” I pinch my nose.
“Can I borrow some of your clothes?”
I nod.
“Mum, Dad, Natalie, and Max are asleep in the lounge room. Ronald and Kylee are upstairs in the kid’s rooms. John’s gone home, and Linda left, too.”
I’d not been paying attention to what had been happening around me. I had little clue as to the movements of others, and I really didn’t care to know now.
“I’ll use your bathroom then, so I don’t wake anyone?”
I nod.
“Give me ten minutes and I’ll be back.”
“Coffee?” I’m not sure why I offer him social niceties, but I do. Maybe it’s because I know he won’t leave, and if shit hits the fan today, I’ll need Cruise to comfort Mum and Dad when I won’t be able to.
“Please.” He reaches out his hand and taps my arm just like he’s done in moments of comfort throughout my youth. “We’ll find her. Me and you, brother.”
My lip quivers. Cruise means what he says. The determination laced in his tone is strong, but I know we won’t find Morgan. Too much time has passed.
A massive storm punished most of Queensland, and Max hasn’t been able to contact Detective West or Gleaton for hours. The game is over. And now I sit here and watch the hands on this clock take away every dream I’d thought possible for my future.
I wait for the call to tell me my wife has not been found alive.
The Wolf
There’s nothing like the sound of rain pelting against a tin roof, and as I lie in bed listening to it lighten, I think about Morgan burnt beyond recognition.
Everything’s finally gone to plan. The fire spread quickly, much quicker than I’d anticipated, but the storm eventually prevented it from blazing out of control. I couldn’t get close enough to find Morgan’s body before the sun went down, so now I’m left to wait until the sun rises to claim my latest prize. My thirteenth victim. My Red. My excitement is so palpable that I can’t sleep.
The glare from the television catches my attention. I reach across the quilt, retrieve the remote from beside my head and turn up the volume. Even though Morgan’s gone, I’ll always have my memories of the game we played, and those videos of her looking lost, defeated, and pained whilst imprisoned inside my Red Room.
I smile as on the screen, she writes in the notepad. I didn’t think she’d write the letters, scrawl her final messages. I haven’t read them, and I won’t. Anything Morgan had to say is of no interest to me. She’s a ghost. A tortured hellion. A dead bitch.
As her hands shake, my lips stretch wider. I really can’t wait to deliver her final thoughts to Reid and those brat kids. My word is my bond. I’ll give him the fucking letters along with a handshake.
I rewind the film. I relax my head back into the pillow and take a long inhale.