Mind Games (Mind Games 1)

And I am on the ground, and I am not moving, and I will never move again.

The door back in the darkness crashes open and someone grabs me roughly by the arms and yanks me out of the closet.

“Don’t do this, Annie,” James says. “We can make you come.”

“Be careful with her!” Eden shouts. “Annie, what’s wrong? She’s freaking out.”

“Of course she’s freaking out, that’s what she does.”

I barely listen to James and Eden bickering about me. I can’t go. If I go, Fia will kill me. Why would she do that? Why? Why after all this time? She kills me! She kills me! She…

She needs me to be dead. I’ve said it myself so many times: Fia can never be free because she will always have to protect me. As long as I’m alive, there will be a way to control Fia, to force her to do things she never would otherwise.

As long as I’m alive.

Fia needs me to be dead. I swallow hard, more scared than I have ever been my entire life. Except that night, the night Fia took the pills and I thought I’d lose her forever. Keane has made it clear that if Fia doesn’t come back, I am as good as dead. I have no doubt his method will be far more horrifying and painful than hers. If this is the only thing I can ever do for her, if this is the only way I can protect her, like she’s always tried to protect me, how can I not do it? She’d give up her future for me. She already did.

“It’s okay, guys,” I say, surprised by how clear and calm my voice comes out. Maybe I can lie, after all. “I’ll come with you. It’s fine.”

It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine. I will do this for Fia. It’s finally my turn to take care of her.

FIA

Late Wednesday Morning

I SHOULD WEAR A BLACK SHIRT TODAY. I PULL ONE out of the small pile of clothes the Lerner group provided. Jeans. Shoes I can move in.

My hands tremble.

I finish lacing the sneakers when there’s a soft knock. “Come in,” I say, because I have never had rooms that keep people out anyway.

Adam opens the door and smiles shyly at me. “Hey. How are you?”

I stand and stretch my arms over my head, my stitches pulling and itching in my arm. I want to get them out. “I’ll be good.”

“I was wondering if I could…well.” He reaches up and runs his long fingers through his hair. “This is more awkward than I thought it would be. But I was wondering if I could get an MRI of your brain and also draw some blood.”

No. No no no. Never let them do that. Never let them find anyone else like you, not ever, not ever. I smile and shake my head. “I never let a boy see my brain until the third date.”

His eyes go wide and then he laughs. “Sorry. I guess that was too forward.”

“You at least owe me dinner and a movie first.”

His smile hits me straight through, breaks my heart. “I’d like that.”

Oh, I wish. I wish I were a girl for this boy to take to dinner and a movie. I could be, still. I could have that life. I could earn the way he looks at me. I glance at the clock. Almost time. Can’t think. I pull out the tiny, pay-as-you-go phone I asked Sarah to buy for me. “Do you have a phone?”

He nods. “Are you going to throw it out another window?”

“No phones out windows today. Maybe something else. I need you to do me a favor. I need you to call this phone at 12:20.” I give him the number. He’ll do it, of course.

I slip the phone into my pocket next to my stolen one, then sit on the edge of the bed, pat the spot next to me. He sits. His feet stretch out onto the floor. “Adam, listen to me. I know about working for people who think they know more than you do. Promise me that whatever you do here, you’ll be careful. Promise me you’ll always listen to that thing deep inside you that tells you whether something is right or wrong. Even if it’s just a twinge. Even if it’s just a hint of a hint of a feeling. Because you could save—or destroy—a lot of lives. You’re going to have help, though. Someone who really does know more than you do.”

He smiles and looks at me with hope in his gray eyes. This boy is built of hope. What does that feel like? “I’m so glad you’re staying.”

“Thanks for looking at me like…like I could be whole. You have no idea what it means to me.” I lean in to kiss him on the cheek and he surprises me by turning his head and our lips connect and he is soft and sweet and true, true, true.

I could have kisses like that for the rest of my life. Kisses that don’t know who I am. Kisses that make me feel more and less than what I am. But my finger tap tap taps on my leg and reminds me that I am not who Adam thinks I am, and it makes me want to cry. It’s not that I don’t deserve his kiss. It’s that the person I am can never really share a life, a soul, with the person he is.