The Game

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The Game Page 21

by Natalie Clarke


  “Hayley,” I whisper into my hands. My palms are soaked with my tears.

  “Kyle, what the hell happened?” My dad comes up behind me and crouches down, his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly.

  “I lost her. I fucked everything up, dad.”

  I hurt her.

  I fucked up like I always knew I would.

  This is what I was afraid of all along.

  My dad grips my shoulders and pulls me to my feet, walking me back into my suite. He sits me down on the sofa and perches on the coffee table in front of me.

  I bury my face in my hands, digging the heels of my hands into the sockets of my eyes in frustration.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “Payn happened.” I spit out his name in disgust.

  “Okay…” he draws out, waiting for me to elaborate.

  I sigh deeply.

  Should I tell him what happened to her? It’s not my secret to tell. But the only way he can understand is if he knows.

  “She was raped… when she was seventeen. The man who did it, was Nicholas Payn.”

  He chokes. “What? Are you serious?”

  “Why the fuck would I lie?” I snap. I take a deep breath. “Sorry.”

  I’m trying to control the overwhelming feeling of anger rising up inside me, threatening to boil over.

  “A few days after we met, she told me what happened to her, she mentioned Payn and I froze. Why him? Of all the people in this fucking city, why did it have to be him? Anyway, I couldn’t tell her that he was my biological father, I didn’t want to hurt her, thought I could protect her by keeping quiet, and being the selfish bastard I am, I didn’t want to lose her.”

  “She’s in shock, it’s a lot to take in,” my dad says.

  “I have to go get her.” I rise up from the couch and race towards the door.

  My dad calls me back, but I don’t stop.

  I have to get my girl back.

  I dial her number, but it goes straight to voicemail. “Fuck,” I mutter.

  The elevator seems to be taking its sweet time getting to the ground floor, the wait is unbearable, and the small space is suffocating. When the doors slide open, I charge out, heading for the casino.

  I burst through the doors and scan the crowd, earlier, the sound of voices that filled the room were welcoming, now they are stifling, overwhelming, suffocating.

  I spot Gwen in the far corner and weave my way through the mass of people until I reach her.

  “Have you seen Hayley?” I ask desperately.

  Gwen gives me a confused look. “No, I thought she was with you.” Her expression turns to worry. “Is she okay, what's going on?”

  “I need to find her.” I turn to leave but Gwen grips my forearm, pulling me back.

  “Kyle, where is she? Is she in danger?”

  “No, I just need to find her.”

  “Have you tried calling her?” she asks.

  I cock my head to the side, giving her an unamused look.

  She pulls out her own phone and puts it to her ear. She shakes her head. “Voicemail.”

  “Where would she go if she was upset?”

  “Um... back to my apartment, to Aaron's, maybe not Aaron’s actually, maybe to her dad's, I don’t know... I’ll call Aaron and see if he's heard anything. I'll head to mine, you try her dad’s.”

  I hate the fact that Aaron will be pulled into this.

  I did the exact thing he knew I would do, I hurt her.

  He’s been waiting for this, a way to worm his way back in, now he’s going to be there for her, just like he promised. The thought not doing anything but fuelling the fire inside me all the more.

  Fuck.

  “Alright.”

  I head out of the casino and jump in my car, tearing through the city streets towards Queens.

  Chapter 35

  Hayley

  I cry on my dad’s shoulder, soaking his shirt in my tears.

  The last time I cried this much was the day I came home from school to find out my mom had died.

  While I was sitting in my math class, doodling in my notebook out of boredom, zoning out from my teacher driveling on about geometry, my dad was walking into their bedroom to find my mom had died in her sleep. My dad had called the school and asked that I be released early, as soon as the office lady stepped foot in that classroom and her gaze landed on me, I knew exactly what had happened.

  I ran all the way home and never stopped, I ran harder and faster than I ever had in my entire life. I burst through the front door and finally came to a stop in the living room, where I found my dad and Uncle Jack, sitting on the couch with tears in their eyes and I knew.

  I was too late.

  My knees buckled underneath me, and I collapsed into a heap on the floor. My dad dropped down next to me and pulled me against him, letting me sob for what felt like hours, I cried until there were no more tears to be shed, until my eyes dried up. I prayed that I never felt the pain that I did that day again, but here I was...

  “Are you going to tell me what happened?” my dad asks, kissing my head softly, as his hand strokes my back comfortingly.

  I sniff, wiping my eyes on the back of my hand. “He lied to me, dad.”

  His hold on me tightens. “I knew it would come to this. I knew that bastard would hurt you one way or another. So, what did he do?”

  There’s no way of me explaining it to him without telling him everything.

  No way of explaining but to dig up the past and break yet another piece of my dad’s already broken heart. This is going to kill him. But I have to.

  I take a deep breath. “Dad, I need to tell you something...”

  Chapter 36

  Hayley

  4 years ago

  I’m sitting in my room, music plays softly in the background from my radio next to me on the nightstand while I finish off some homework.

  I shouldn’t have left it all until the night before.

  I never leave it this late.

  Never doing this again that’s for damn sure.

  I hear the front door open downstairs followed by voices, my dad’s voice and what sounds like another man’s. It must be the man he met a few weeks ago at the bar around the corner, Nicholas, or something. I haven’t seen or spoken to him much, just a few ‘hellos’, something in the back of my mind tells me to keep my distance. Something just feels a little off about him.

  The sounds of their loud voices filter through the floorboards, loud enough that I can hear them over my music.

  I try to focus.

  I scribble notes from my textbook, highlighters, pens, pencils, and bits of crumpled paper litter my floor and cover most of my bed.

  The low evening sunlight streams into through the window, casting sharp angular shadows across my bedroom. I stand up and cross the room to the window, opening it slightly, letting the cool air sweep in. I take a deep breath, the smell of rain hangs in the air from the light shower earlier. I close my eyes.

  My bedroom door squeaks open, I turn around to see the man standing in the doorway. He’s tall and broad, around the age of forty-five or so. The ends of his thinning hair are turning grey, as too are the short whiskers that grow on his jaw and across his cheeks. For a man his age, he’s handsome, in an old-fashioned kind of way.

  “Um… can I help you?” I ask politely.

  “Sorry, just looking for the bathroom.”

  “Oh, it’s the door to your left.”

  He steps further into the room. “You’re Hayley, right?”

  “Yeah, and you are…” I trail off, searching for his name in the back of my mind.

  “Nicholas, Nicholas Payn.”

  “Right. My dad’s friend from the bar.”

  “That’s me.”

  “Well, like I said, bathroom’s the door to your left.” I smile sweetly.

  He lingers for a moment before he takes in my room. He steps fully into the room and slowly shuts the door behind him, clicking it s
hut. “This is a lovely room you’ve got here, reminds me of my sister’s room when we were younger.”

  “Thanks,” I say, awkwardly.

  My heart begins to pound. A shiver rolls down my spine. This feels weird. He shouldn’t be in here.

  I clear my throat. “You should hurry back downstairs, no doubt my dad will be wondering where you got to.” I force out a laugh that comes off shaky.

  “I had one just like this,” he gasps, looking towards my dresser.

  He walks towards me and picks up the Rubik’s cube that sits on top of the dresser, the same one my mom had when she was little before she passed it on to me. I can’t count the amount of hours I’ve spent trying to figure it out and not having any luck whatsoever.

  He fondles it in his hands. “You know, youth is such a wonderful thing, pity we have to get old. You’ve got to hold onto youth for as long as you can, Hayley.”

  My heart is beating out of my chest, it’s beating so fast I can hear it in my eardrums. He’s too close. “I’ll remember that.”

  His eyes move from my face, then trail down my body, over the loose yellow dress that falls just past my knees and back up again. He licks his lips.

  I back away, taking a step back towards the window. He takes a step forward. He looks off to the side where a cluster of photographs hang on the wall above the dresser, paying particular attention to the many photographs of myself, my family, and my friends.

  “You’re a very beautiful girl, Hayley, your boyfriend is one lucky guy.”

  “I don’t have a boyfriend,” I reply quickly, without hesitation.

  Why did I just say that?

  Stupid, stupid, stupid!

  The corner of his mouth curves up into a sarcastic smile. “Good.” He grips my face in his hands and presses his lips to mine forcefully. His tongue forces its way past my lips and roams my mouth, he tastes of beer and cigars.

  I push away from him, using all of my strength to get him to loosen his grip. He doesn’t budge, my resistance has no effect on him at all.

  I stamp down on his foot as hard as I can and he stumbles backs slightly, allowing me enough room to scramble past him as I run to the door. Just as my fingers reach for the doorknob, I’m wrenched back by my ponytail, letting out a screech. I hit the edge of the bed hard, my knees scraping sharply against the carpet. He grabs me by the waist and hoists me up onto the bed, so that I land in the center on my stomach.

  He’s on top of me in seconds, straddling me, his knees locked tight around my thighs, I scream as loud as I can, but it’s muffled by my pillows, I try raising my head, but his huge hand presses it back down. Tears leak from my eyes as if someone turned on a tap and left it running. I flail my arms, trying to reach for him, or something to help me, but he grips my wrists and pulls them together, holding them both in one of his, bringing them over my head.

  He leans in close. “I wouldn’t bother shouting for help, you’re dad’s downstairs passed out, it’s just you and me, darlin’.” He tugs my dress up around my waist and rips my panties from me, my thighs burn from the friction. “But you’re welcome to scream as loud as you like, I love it when they scream for me.”

  No. This can’t be happening. My first time can’t happen this way. No, please God, no.

  I hear the pop of a button and a zipper as he pulls himself free. He groans behind me. He pulls my hips up, so I’m propped up on my knees, my ass in the air. He spreads my legs wide, wedging me open with his knees and thrusts himself forward in one hard thrust. The pain tears through me, radiating up my body as he splits me in half. I scream, the sound ripping through my throat as he pounds into me violently from behind, his relentless thrusts sending shockwaves of agony through my body.

  I lie there, unmoving.

  Why attempt to fight in a losing battle? Why fight when I can’t win? Why struggle when the outcome will be the same?

  I close my eyes and pretend I’m on an island, the sun beating down, from the cloudless blue sky, kissing my skin. The sounds of birds overhead, the soft waves of the sea ebbing and flowing from the shore, the feel of the warm sand beneath my feet.

  I’m ripped out of my fantasy by loud, strained grunts behind me, his movements becoming even rougher, if that is even possible, as he empties himself inside me.

  He pulls out of me quickly, causing me to whimper in pain. He zips himself back up and leans over me, his mouth next to my ear. “You were so good, darlin’, you be a good girl and don’t mention this to daddy. Remember, I know where you live now, I won’t hesitate to come back here for round two.” He slaps me on my ass and leaves the room, the door shutting softly behind him. His footsteps fade as he makes his way down the stairs, the front door clicking shut.

  I collapse onto my side in the center of the bed, curling my knees up against my chin, a sharp twinge between my legs, making me yelp. His release seeps from between my thighs and pools on my sheets underneath me, no doubt a little blood too, but I can’t move.

  I lie there, silently crying into my pillow. I try to wrap my head around what has just happened. It plays over and over in my head like a movie on repeat, the sound of his grunts looping like a broken record, the frequent blows of his hips slapping against my thighs that I can still feel on my skin as if it were still happening.

  I put my hands over my ears and scream into my pillow until my throat dries up and the sound dies out.

  I lie in the same position for what feels like hours, by the time I muster the courage to get up, it’s dark outside. I crawl out of bed and glance at the small red stain in the middle of my sheets. I strip the bed and toss the ruined sheets to the floor.

  I shakily make my way out of my room. I still when I reach the landing, listening out for any movement. Silence. I pad my way silently into the bathroom, wobbling on my unsteady legs that threaten to give way and run a bath. I peel off my dress and stand in front of the mirror. My eyes zero in on the purple bruises that mark my thighs and hips. I finger them lightly and wince. My eyes are red and puffy, I look like I haven’t slept in weeks.

  I turn off the taps and sink into the water that all about scolds my skin. I lie back, resting against the cool tiles behind me. I glance down my body to where the area of water between my legs is turning pink. My shaky hands move down and reach between my legs, I touch the skin gingerly and instantly regret it. A sharp twinge of soreness radiates through my body.

  I grab my loofa and scrub until I’m red raw, wanting to rid myself of any trace of that man from my skin, cleaning between my legs carefully.

  I lie in the water until it turns cold, until my fingers and toes wrinkle. When I eventually pull myself out of the bath, I wrap my bathrobe around myself and head back into my room. I freeze when I see the bed.

  I can’t sleep in that bed ever again. I can’t, and I won’t. I rip my pillows and the covers off my bed and create a makeshift sleeping bag on the floor.

  The front door opens and closes signaling my mom’s arrival home from work. I hear faint voices from downstairs. I lie there and try to focus on my parents’ voices, on the ticking of the clock, the music that plays on my radio…

  Anything to dull the noise in my head. Anything to keep the memories from playing in my head. Anything that will help me forget.

  Chapter 37

  Hayley

  “Oh my God.” My dad covers his mouth with his hands, staring forward, deep in thought, deep in shock.

  I sit next to him, picking at the skin around my fingernails anxiously. “I’m sorry I kept it from you for so long. I was going to tell you what happened, but then mom died, and I couldn’t…” I begin to cry again, my face in my hands.

  My dad’s arms wrap around me, holding me, rocking me back and forth gently. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea. I shouldn’t have allowed that man into our home, that stranger.”

  “Dad, it’s not your fault. You can’t blame yourself for what happened, you couldn’t have known what was going to happen.”

  “I’m your dad,
it’s supposed to be my fault.” He rests his chin on the top of my head. He sighs deeply. “Did you report it?”

  I shake my head. “No. He scared me into keeping quiet, said that he’d come back if I said anything. Looking back I should have gone to the police, but I…”

  “It’s alright, it's okay,” he reassures. He opens his mouth as if he’s going to say something but closes it again, struggling to find the words. After a moment, he clears his throat. “Um… did you, you know… get pregnant?”

 

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