Playing His Own Games | ✔︎

chapter twenty-four | save me

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"It's hard to answer the question 'What's wrong?' when nothing's right."
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Mason

SAWYER CALLED LAST night, demanding for the family to attend the counselling session he assigned us weeks ago. My father couldn't delay it any longer, so here we are, pulling into the car park outside the institution.

The rolling hills backdrop the great white-bricked building, where the arched roof cuts through the shadowed sky. Large glass windows stretch along spaces where walls typically fill in, overlooking the grey car park and winding roads slicing through the forest.

I'm not going to lie—I'm terrified of psychologists, therapists and councillors. These people have experience and always manage to weave the truth out of others somehow. Their eyes can pierce into you and open up the doors into your mind without you even realising it.

"Wait a second." My dad swivels around to face Jared and I. He adjusts the tie hanging from his neck and exhales sharply. "I want both you boys to behave and use your manners. Only speak when spoken too and let me do most of the talking."

"Don't worry, I wouldn't even dream of revealing what a prick you are,"Jared mutters, glaring out the window with his arms folded across his chest.

My fathers eyes are as hard as obsidian as he adjusts the tie hanging from his neck. "One day, you'll learn how discipline shapes you into a better man, boy. No son of mine will be a Goddamn pussy."

Jared laughs humourlessly, wrenching his gaze away from the world beyond the cold glass window. He stares at my father instead. "Good thing I'm not your son, then, hey? Fucking dickhead."

"Shut up, you ignorant piece of shit," he snaps back, pupils dilating. I can't help but feel relieved Jared is sitting in the backseat. "I swear to God when I get my hands on you—"

"And now you wonder why we're at fucking family counselling!" Jared shouts, angrily kicking the back of Ruby's seat. "You're insane! I hope you die the slowest painful death possible!"

"Can we just go?" Ruby's voice slices through the argument. She pushes her palms against her dress in attempt to flatten out the creases and purses her lips.

"Agreed." I haul myself out of the car, a groan escaping past my lips. My ribs, stomach and hip took the brunt of the beating three days ago—and that was only my dads work. He also added onto the two black eyes Kane and my so-called friends gave me and so kindly broke three of my fingers. I swear there are now ridges in my neck from where his fingers squeezed and applied pressure that only stopped when I fell unconscious.

I can't say this is a great way to enter a family counselling session with suspicion of an abusive household.

"Suck it up, princess, you had it coming for you," my dads obnoxious voice slams into my back but I keep my mouth shut.

Everyone else grudging exits the car, scowling and complaining as the wind blows sideways into our faces. Dark clouds obscure the stars hanging in the sky and I shiver as the cold crawls up my skin.

"Straighten your blazer!" my father hisses at my stepbrother.

"Straighten your attitude!" Jared retorts, ducking as my dad takes a swipe at him.

My lip twitches and I lower my eyes to the ground, watching the leaves skip over my polished black shoes.

"Think that's funny, Mason?" My father takes a step towards me, rage controlling his expression.

"No, sir. Not at all." I dodge around him and hurry up the front steps, kicking away pebbles and soggy leaves that haven't been swept up. I lean carelessly against one of the pillars besides the stairs, pretending like anxiety isn't squeezing my chest and closing up my lungs.