Page 22 of Ready Or Not

“We’ll play, then I’ll tell you about Pup.”

Riley reaches for the coffee table and snatches up a drink for herself. “There’s nothing to know. He disappeared. End of story.”

Manson leans back, something flashing in his eyes. “But it’ll kill you that I’m the only one who knows.”

Riley glares at him, then chugs the drink.

Manson fixes a dead stare on me. “Drink.”

I feel the powerful bodies on both sides of me. Both are people with guns who seem to hate me for no reason.

“Here.” Riley grabs a drink from the table, then throws a leg over me, mounting me. I gasp as Riley looks down at me with a grin on her beautiful face. “Open up.”

“Fuck you.” Adrenaline races through me. If I’m going to die, I’ll die fighting.

Riley smirks, running a finger up the side of my neck. The mock gentleness makes me shiver. “Be a good pet, and obey.”

I search Riley’s dark eyes. They bore into mine with intoxicating intensity. Her face looks soft and feminine, with pretty cheekbones and a flush on her cheeks, but her eyes are harsh. Riley’s pupils grow wider, and she leans down to my ear. Her delicate breath brushes the shell of my ear. “I’d love to make you choke on it.”

She pulls back enough for me to meet her gaze again. I narrow my eyes, then snatch the cup out of her hand. I down it, the sugary drink immediately making me want to vomit.

Victory lights in Riley’s eyes. She lowers her forehead to mine, her eyes hooded, whispering, “That’s my good girl.”

My heart races. Riley pulls back enough to continue to look into my eyes. I become deeply aware that she’s still straddling my lap, her soft tits right in my line of vision. My cheeks burn.

“Manson,” Riley says. Manson reaches to grab the last cup, then also shoots it down.

“You dosed all of them.” Riley says it like a statement.

Manson’s eyes glint. “Gotta keep things interesting, Riley Kennedy.”

Riley leans over, grabbing Manson’s jaw. His smirk just grows.

“That’s not my name. I’d rather die than marry you.”

Manson groans. “Keep talking dirty, Mrs. Kennedy.”

“Fuck you.” Riley spits on Manson.

He grunts, snapping his hand out to her throat and yanking her off me.

I scoot back. The pain in my leg comes shooting back. I glance down. There’s a piece of wood the size of a pencil sticking out of it.

Shit. I can’t pull it out, or it’ll start bleeding heavier.

“Let’s play hide and seek.” Manson grabs Riley’s hips. “Whoever finds the toy first, fucks her.”

“Stop playing and tell me what I want to know. I took your stupid drink.”

I stand in confusion. How dare they treat me like just a game? Is this what happened to Cali? Is this how she died?

Rage rushes through me. I refuse to be just a game to them.

“You have till the count of zero, Rachel.”

I jump. Why are they talking to me? Why can’t they play their own stupid game and keep me far, far out of it?

“Thirty. Twenty-nine.”