Game On
Page 1
Synopsis
Spending her days caring for her grandmother and her nights dreaming up new worlds to write about, Maci wants nothing more than to enjoy life alongside her new man, Liam. But after a wicked visit from the devil himself, she quickly learns that the hearts and flowers of her new relationship will have to wait.
Big Jim, Liam’s sworn enemy, attempts to blackmail Maci in order to gain a leg up in the gaming industry. It’s all she can do to keep her wits about her as she battles with right and wrong, knowing just how devastating it would be for Liam if she were to deceive him.
After going through hell and back, it’s finally Game On as Liam and Maci team up to defeat the evil likes of Big Jim. With the walls of betrayal closing in on them, it doesn’t take long to devise a game plan for conquering the enemy—but a solid strategy doesn’t always mean it’s game over.
Note: This contemporary romance novel is the second book in the Playing Games series and contains adult situations meant for ages 18+.
Find out more on Rene’s website at
http://renefolsom.com/playing-games
Copyright © 2015 Rene Folsom
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission from the authors, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Editing Services Provided by:
Cynthia Shepp - www.CynthiaShepp.com
Cover Created by Phycel Designs
www.Phycel.com
A special thanks to ML—
thanks for keeping me in line and making sure my gaming references are spot on.
Table of Contents
Synopsis
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Thanks for Reading
Books by Rene
Prologue
Maci: Betrayal
Loud grunting… the crack of a whip… a gut-wrenching wail…
My attention was piqued, the sounds immediately causing my hearts to race as I pushed my way through the small crowd forming in the cargo bay. Voices echoed off the metal bulkheads around me, my mind unable to focus on words that made sense.
Using the strength of my entire body, I broke through the throng of passengers, catching sight of a strong hand gripping tight to the hilt of a whip. Hearts pounding, pulse coursing, breaths heaving… My gaze followed the muscular arm, finding that my captain was the wielder of the horrid weapon—one I was unfortunately accustomed to—one that easily put the fear of the gods deep in my soul.
Regardless of my fear, it wasn’t until I saw who was on the receiving end that I suddenly hit my knees with despair, a wail of defiance and pain unable to pass through my lips. I didn’t even have enough breath left in me to scream, yet I wanted so badly to somehow bring attention to the atrocities happening before me.
Naked and bound, a large Sciron being stood tall while a nearly imperceptible shiver ran through his body. Another loud crack had me wincing, the sound all too familiar to me, his cries filling the silence immediately after.
The scars on my back flamed to life with the no-longer-distant memories rearing their ugly heads.
A visceral growl vibrated through my clenched teeth as I lunged forward, stopping the next blow with my forearm. The single-tailed whip wrapped around my flesh and the tip of the leather lacerated my cheek, barely missing my eye. The instant agony brought me down, my body hitting the deck hard.
“Fidorah!” Captain Evans yelled, his hands immediately going to work to release the whip from around my arm. A shimmering purple liquid coated his fingers, matching the blood that stained the being’s body beside me—my own kind.
Pain tore through my arm, my cheek beginning to throb as the captain attempted to pull me tight against him. Rage fueled my instincts, overpowering any discomfort the injuries might’ve caused.
“No!” I screamed, pushing him away from me with all my power. “Don’t you dare touch me! You don’t get to beat one of my own kind and then pretend to care about my welfare.”
Ignoring me, Evans looked to his right-hand man, speaking in the alien’s native tongue, as he ordered him to pick me up and take me to the medic.
“How could you?” I cried, my voice losing its vibrato with each breath I took. I couldn’t understand how he could be so cold, so barbaric. Just last night, he told me how much he loved me. Yet today, he didn’t even bat an eye as he bludgeoned my own kind. He knew of my past, knew what I’d been through, yet he chose to treat my own kind with the same savagery that was once bestowed upon me. The betrayal was almost too much to bear.
I wanted to fight, wanted to protect the male from my home planet, Sciron. But my body soon went weak… too weak to fend off the hands that began to lift me into the air. The pain was just too much. How a being could stand there and be whipped repeatedly was beyond my comprehension. Just one accidental blow had me succumbing to defeat, the memories of my punishments many years before flooding to the forefront with each passing moment.
The last thing I remember before everything went dark—Evans’ eyes filled with sorrow as he followed behind me.
*****
I had to stop. My hands were shaking too much for me to continue. I knew it was my own guilt that brought this scene to life, which seemed to make it that much harder to put into words. As soon as I did what Big Jim wanted of me, the guilt would likely eat me alive. Betraying someone, especially a person truly important to me, was not an easy task or a decision I took lightly.
Fidorah knew it—I knew it—and now, my readers would be all too familiar with my pain. It never failed… my characters always thought the same way I’d think, acted the same way I’d act, and felt the same things I’d feel. Essentially, we were one, united by emotions so strong, they couldn’t be held at bay.
Grabbing my glass of wine, attempting to steady my hand as I brought it to my lips, I took a tentative sip. I had to keep myself from downing the whole damn glass in one gulp. The alcohol was surely unable to help my situation—though I guessed it couldn’t hurt. So far, it hadn’t even taken the edge off, and I needed something to do just that. I needed something to calm my nerves so I could stop fretting and make the right decisions for myself and for my grams.
Setting my glass back down with a clank, I stared at my screen, my eyes scanning over the words I’d just written. It brought back all new feelings, reliving my situation with every word, every emotion.
You’d think an author’s ability to write would be hindered by emotional turmoil in life, but for me, it was my experience in life that led me to write.
So, with that in mind, I couldn’t help but spill my feelings onto the pages, my unsuspecting readers being my therapists in a way. I would talk, and my readers would always listen, regardless of w
hether they knew it or not. All fiction was based on some form of reality. Otherwise, authors would never have the inspiration or knowledge to dream up the situations we portrayed with our words. Even though my personal experiences were never identical to that of my characters, they were still inspirational, even when they were not positive ones.
Thankfully, my dutiful readers would never know where reality and fantasy diverged.
Chapter One
Maci: I Spy
Ding. One…
Air passed through my lips in short, erratic pants, my breaths increasing with each moment that ticked by.
Ding. Two…
My heart thrummed through my body, leaving an odd, achy feeling in its wake.
Ding. Three…
I couldn’t help the groan that escaped my mouth as I rotated my head on my shoulders, attempting to rid my muscles of the overwhelming anxiety.
Ding. Four…
Tension seemed to work its way through me like a firecracker, embers sizzling through every nerve ending in my body.
Ding. Five…
Cool air hitting my face didn’t seem to quell the heat radiating from my insides, shockwaves of adrenaline coating my skin and causing me to lose hold of my determination.
Ding. Six…
My body went weak, the sheer emotions completely overwhelming me.
…and I hadn’t even laid eyes on him yet.
Ding. Seven…
The sensation of climbing higher and higher should have been one of euphoria, hope.
Ding. Eight…
Yet, reality wasn’t that kind to me.
Ding. Nine…
I watched with overwhelming anticipation as the numbers on the elevator continued to increase.
Ding. Ten…
It’d been a week since I’d found Big Jim standing in my home, the memory haunting me every day since. I wanted so badly to thwart his attempt to blackmail me with my quick wit and cleverness, but my keen sense of self-preservation was no match for the man who held my life in his hands.
It killed me, searing a hole right down the center of my chest, but I had to keep my distance from Liam until I could figure out what to do. I played it well, feigning long work hours and promises of time together soon. He didn’t deserve the poison that was beginning to eat at my resolve, and he definitely didn’t deserve to have some silly girl using him to do a bad man’s bidding.
The words Jim spoke that day—I want what William Allan has—continued to tumble around in my head like a plague, infesting my mind, and making me beg for any way I could possibly free myself from his confines. When he first spoke the words, bile rose in my throat at the implications of what it could possibly mean. Naturally, I thought he meant me—that he wanted me only because Liam had me. After all, I was falling hard for the cocky geek, and there was no doubt in my mind that he was slowly beginning to own me… mind, body, and soul.
“Don’t be so arrogant as to think I would ever want you, Maci,” Big Jim sneered as he stood in the shadows of my condo that day, making me inwardly cringe at the harsh words he spoke, despite me being relieved. “No, you completely misunderstand… I want something way more valuable to him than a blonde arm trophy.”
His words, so disgustingly vile in nature, still played through my mind as if it had happened a mere few hours ago. I remember standing frozen in my own home, shaking on the inside as I waited for him to continue, staring at him and pleading my face to stay strong in his presence. He didn’t need to know how badly he got to me. He was like an animal—any sign of weakness and he would surely crush me.
“You see,” he continued, stepping closer to me. I took an involuntary step back, keeping my distance from the man. “There’s this new design nZone is working on—a virtual reality headset so magnificent, it’ll easily put my company back on the radar if I could just get my hands on a prototype.”
“What the hell does that have to do with me?” My voice shook, but my face remained impassive, hard. I wished to God my words wouldn’t show an ounce of weakness, but I wasn’t used to the devil being so damn close.
Backing away further, I watched in horror as the man continued to approach me, pushing me into the far wall by the door. His fat, slimy fingers snaked beneath my chin, forcing me to look at him as he spoke. The air around me was stifling, filled with the revolting stench of his breath against my face.
“Well, this is where you come in, doll. Since you’ve become rather chummy with our friend Mr. Allen, than I expect it will be easy for you to get your pretty little hands on one of the Specter headsets.”
And there it was… his ultimate goal. He wanted me to steal from my boyfriend—his competitor. It was as if the man simply refused to get ahead based on his own merits. Even though I never expected better things from him, I was still shocked at his blatant act of thievery.
“Tell me you’ll be a good girl and get what I want, and this whole secret identity of yours will never see the light of day,” he said, his voice slithering through my resolve like a serpent holding the fruit of life.
I knew the secrecy in my life wasn’t worth ruining Liam’s latest company ventures, but my brain couldn’t seem to function with Jim so close to me. I shook, every muscle in my body just itching to hit him, kick him, anything to get him to back off. I had to string the man along, at least until I could figure out what the hell to do.
Booting him out of my home that day was easy. I called him every name in the book to let him know just what I thought of his sleazy demeanor. But, knowing he had dirt on me and could ultimately ruin my career… that was a much harder pill to swallow.
The ding of the elevator caused me to jump and curse the fact I was wound so tight. Being here was definitely not in my better judgment, but I had to do something. I knew I had to keep up appearances in order to hold him at bay, at least for a little while longer.
A chill ran through me at the thought I was working with the devil, selling my soul to the beast who controlled the two things I held dear—my career and my grams.
Yes, I knew I had to make him think I was following through with the plan, at least for now, until I could put my head back on straight.
I couldn’t help but shiver in disgust at my actions. But I had to make it look like I was his dutiful minion for now.
After all, I knew the man was watching me—watching my every move.
Chapter Two
Liam: Avoidance
Seeing Maci walk through the doors of the elevator was like seeing the sun for the first time in days. She was even prettier than I remembered, if that were humanly possible. Regardless of the watchful eyes that seemed to surround us, my lips still itched to kiss hers. It seemed like ages since I was able to touch her. When she called, asking if I had a few minutes, I couldn’t turn her away, even though I was busy beyond comprehension.
It wasn’t until I saw her eyes that I knew something was wrong. With a weak smile, she made her way toward where I was standing and placed a small peck on my cheek, her hand lingering on my forearm as she looked at me. It was as if her eyes were pleading with me to understand—but understand what, I didn’t know.
“I just spent some time with my grams and she actually asked about you,” she said, her voice a mere whisper. Lacing my hand in hers, I smiled wide, knowing just how important this revelation was considering her grandmother was lucky to remember what she’d said five minutes earlier. We began to walk, my silence a hopeful welcome for her to continue. “Of course, she couldn’t remember your name, but she did ask, which is definitely a sign you made an impression on her.”
“Well, I’m flattered. What did she say exactly?”
A blush filled her cheeks as she turned her head, gazing at the skyline through a few of the conference room windows while we continued toward my office. “She asked where the young man was who made me smile,” she said, hiding her face from my view. Her reflection in the passing glass windows was very telling—her teeth sinking into the flesh of her lip, the d
owncast direction of her eyes—all showing me that she was embarrassed, or hurt, though the latter didn’t sound fitting.
“Hah.” I laughed. “Now I can only hope she was talking about me.” Her lack of response to my quip had my attention piqued even more, my suspicion that something was clearly wrong eating at me.
Tugging on her hand, I finally got her to turn her gaze toward me as we pushed our way through my office door. Green, soulful eyes examined me, almost as if she were assessing my every step, making me worry I’d move too suddenly and spook her.
Something was still wrong.
As soon as the door shut, closing us into the privacy of my office, I turned on her, pinning her against the wall. My breath shook, the overwhelming need to touch her consuming me. I’d missed her, and yet, I could tell by the look on her face that there was a reason she wasn’t missing me.
“What’s the matter?” I asked, my eyes scanning every inch of her face as I watched the torrent of emotions play across her features. Grabbing her blonde ponytail, I tugged lightly, forcing her to look at me.
Her eyes darted back and forth between mine, taking in every inch of me, every ounce of concern obviously etched on my face. Then, her gaze traveled to my mouth, her tongue wetting her lips like she was dying of thirst—dying for me. Her mood seemed to switch so quickly from worried to wanting in a nanosecond.
Never taking her eyes off the target, she began to inch closer to me, rising on her tippy toes and leaning in for a kiss. I wanted to kiss her—wanted nothing more than to taste her, feel her, devour her. But it was clear as day she was using this weakness of mine as a distraction.
Reluctantly, I stopped her ascent, placing my hands on her shoulders and backing away a hair before saying, “Maci, talk to me.”
“Just kiss me first,” she demanded, knotting her fist in the collar of my shirt and pulling me back to her, her body tense against mine. Our lips touched for a second, but I held my ground, needing her to realize I wasn’t going to be used as a distraction whenever she needed me to.