Page 21 of Ready Or Not

“Riley.” His voice sounds bored.

“Enough, Manson.” Riley reaches into her waistband and pulls out a gun.

Quick as a flash, Manson has his gun out, and it’s pointed at me.

I scream, automatically scrambling to get away.

Riley steps in front of me, grabbing me and shoving me behind her. “Go ahead. Shoot me, Manson.”

“Get out of the way.”

“Make me.”

There’s a growl.

I yank on my arm as hard as I can. It rips out of Riley’s grip, and I fall on my hip. Quickly, I scramble up, and a gunshot explodes through the house.

Wood splinters by my right leg, cutting into me. The force of it causes my leg to buckle, and I drop to my hands.

“Next one goes into her skull. Come here.”

My ears ring, and everything feels fuzzy.

“You won’t kill me, Riley. I know where Pup went.”

More ringing.

“He’s dead. That was ten years ago,” Riley bites.

My leg feels hot. I glance down at it. It’s red. There’s a lot of red.

“Guess you won’t know unless you both come here.”

There’s a harsh curse, then I’m yanked up by my armpits. Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion. Is this shock? I’m placed back on the couch, in the middle between Manson and Riley.

He throws us a brilliant grin, flashing his white teeth. “You’re back, little intrigue.”

“Don’t talk about my fucking toy like that,” Riley snaps.

Manson’s grin only grows wider. I shiver. I see the smile lines around his eyes.

“Tell me about Pup.”

“Only if you play my game.” Manson reaches to the coffee table, where the drinks are still laid out. “Drink, Rachel.”

“Fuck you,” I grit. My leg is pounding.

Manson just laughs. “Your life means nothing to me. Drink, or I’ll kill you.”

The only thing that comes to mind is the image of my brain all over the walls. I open my mouth, “That would make more of a mess than puke.”

Manson shakes his head. “Naive girl. Drink.”

I look at Riley. She raises an eyebrow at me, then glances at Manson.

“You’re gonna play the same game with her that I play with you,” Manson demands.

Silence.