Fear Games

8. What We Could Have Been

"So," I said, "what brings you here now?"

"I want to be part of your life," Isaiah said as he reached out and touched my leg on top of the blanket. "Now that the Fear Games have started again, I realize how important it is to keep you around. You're a gem, Rachel, and I was a fool to let anything get in between us back then. I've made so many mistakes, but I'm here to make up for them. I was a victim too, in a lot of ways, but I've owned up for my past. I'm ready to look to the future with you. Even if it's just as friends."

I had to admit, his proposition was really appealing. Being friends again sounded like just what I needed in my life right now, especially after everything happening. I needed someone else who could keep me sane, someone else who went through the same things I did.

I smiled at him and said, "Isaiah, we've always been friends. How about we have dinner tonight—you, me, and the kids? It would be great to catch up and have them get to know you?"

Isaiah smiled back, something I hadn't seen in a long time. "Fine, dinner sounds wonderful. But don't even think about being the one to pay. I'll see you tonight?"

"Sounds good to me," I said. For the first time in a while, everything sort of felt...normal.

It was because of that, I should have been afraid.

EDEN

I could have only hoped that Rachel's plan wasn't going to backfire and kick my ass. I made sure that the entire house was clear of people, especially Jax. I had literally no idea where he was, and to be quite honest, I didn't care as long as he wasn't out there plotting the next way to get my kids into a bunker and try to murder them. Even though I wasn't positive that he was one of the killers, I would find out soon enough, thanks to Rachel's brilliant idea. But it sure did put a dent in my wallet.

As I unboxed the security cameras, I tried to read the instructions the best I could, but I was never the best at putting these kinds of things together. Jacob was always the one to do this shit, and now that his charred body was dead out in the woods where Jax and I left him, I had to do this all by myself. These security cameras were obviously meant to go outside the house, but Rachel thought about the idea of putting them inside as a way to watch Jax and see what he is doing whenever I'm not around. It was definitely risky, but it was totally worth it.

It didn't take me long to figure out how to set up the cameras. The hardest part was figuring out how to hide them so that no one would accidentally notice them. Rearranging a couple of vases here and a couple knick-knacks there, I finally got all the cameras set up in the living room and the kitchen. I thought about trying to put some in Jax's room, put I figured I'd be more likely to get caught that way. So, despite what my gut was telling me, I strictly stuck to the public areas of the house.

Around the time that I was setting up the last camera in the living room, my phone started to ring. It was Rachel. I answered the phone and said, "Hey, bestie. I'm almost done setting up the cameras in my house. How are you doing?"

"I'm alright," Rachel said, but I could tell by the tone in her voice that she was calling for something serious. "Listen, there's something I need to tell you. A certain person from my past decided to show up at my house this afternoon."

I stopped what I was doing and walked over to the couch to sit. I asked, "Who?"

"Isaiah. And it seems he'll be sticking around for a while," Rachel said. "He apparently got released from prison five years ago and heard everything that was going on with the Fear Games. He came by to help us. The kids and I are having dinner with him later tonight."

"Wow," I said, "how exactly do you feel about that?" I didn't know too much about Isaiah, but over the last twenty years his name had come up at least a few times. I knew who he was and his return was definitely unexpected. His trial was mostly private, despite how publicized the Fear Games were back then. I wondered how neither one of us had heard about his release.