Vindictive #4

3. coked up whores

There's a game Gary likes to play. It's simple. He asks you a question, and you answer. It's up to you whether you tell the truth or not. Of course, if you're caught lying, the consequences are unavoidable. He did this for many reasons. To test your loyalty, your trustworthiness, and your abilities. If you successfully lie to him, you win. Of course, only you know you win.

But that knowledge is powerful. You successfully outsmarted the demon. You outsmart Gary, you could outsmart just about anyone.

The first time he introduced me to the game, he knew I was skeptical of him. So he gave me a trial run. Two truths and a lie.

I'd always prided myself on my poker face. I was a liar if I'd ever met one, and I was a good one. That's how you survive. You get good.

So I did. I lied. I cheated, of course. One truth, two lies. Three things he couldn't possible have known regardless. And he knew. Somehow, he just knew. He called me out on cheating, and it was the first time I'd taken notice of the dangerous glint in his eye. He made me go again. Two truths and a lie. No cheating. I cheated again. This time I didn't lie at all.

It was the first time he'd ever hit me.

"Do you take me for an idiot?" He'd snapped, before recollecting himself. "Two truths. One lie. Don't fuck with me again."

Rules. He was a stickler for creating rules and making sure everyone around him abided by them. Top rule? Don't fuck with him. Ever.

So I gave him his two truths and a lie, and he recounted them back to me correctly with ease.

"Do you get it yet?" He'd asked me, brow raised. My lip still stung from the blow, but I ignored the ache and nodded. "You can't lie to me, Milan. I'll know. And if you do lie to me, you better be positive it's bulletproof. Because being caught in a lie by me?"

He'd cupped my chin to make sure I was looking at him. "You don't want that. At all."

He did it at random times. Tested me. Questions that seem innocent enough, simple enough. But nothing about what Gary does and says is simple, or innocent. Most of the time, he already knew the answer. So it was up to me to tell the truth or not. Whatever followed would be on me.

"Milan."

I turn my head, my shoulders stiffening. Gary stood in the doorway, a frown on his face. Gary didn't often smile, so the frown isn't what has me on edge. It was the phone in his hand. Specifically, my phone. Immediately I thought back to the last few phone calls I'd had. Gary. Pizza place. Chinese food place. Hanna. Samuel. Shit.

"Come with me."

Immediately, I stand. My hair falls over my shoulders as I bow my head and follow him out my room and down the hall towards the staircase. His office is downstairs, and that's where he liked to talk. The walls were soundproof. Upon entry, I noticed his office is unusually messy. Gary was a pretty organized guy, and never let his desk get past what normal people would consider untidy. But now? Papers were strewn everywhere, folders were on the floor, and he barely seemed to notice.

He leans against the desk and crosses his arms over his chest, wrinkling his suit. I wince. He is upset.

"Do you know who called you this morning?" He asks simply, raising an eyebrow.