Page 34 of Ready Or Not

I need a routine. If I don’t have my favorite food (currently chicken nuggets, preferably the frozen ones from Tyson), my comfy sweats, and my skulls, everything else starts to fall away, too.

Having a routine makes sense. It’s predictable. But now, all my emotions are out of place, and my gut twists.

I need Riley to let me go, but I’m not sure how to accomplish that. I doubt I’ll be able to pull on her heartstrings. I don’t think she has them, and even if she did, I’ve never been good with that kind of thing. I’m going to have to outsmart her. And Manson.

I study every inch of Riley’s room, trying to stave off a panic attack. It looks basic. Impersonal. She doesn’t even have any family pictures. Her dresser is dusty and looks unused.

My breathing picks up. If they know where I live, how can I go home?

Riley groans.

I stiffen.

She moans, picking herself off the floor, shaking the sleep from her head.

“Wow. Forgot how much the floor sucks.” She stretches. “Gotta pee?”

I flush, and as I do, my stomach growls.

“Oh fuck. I’ve gotta feed you too, don’t I?” Riley runs her hand down her face. “Fuck. Well, alright then, up you go.”

Riley uncuffs me and accompanies me to the bathroom. She keeps the door open while I pee, so I can’t even look for any potential weapons, then switches spots with me.

As she sits down, she mutters, “Don’t run off; the house is trapped.”

I glance at the hall, considering it anyway. My heart is pounding.

Riley sighs. “Rachel, please. Have I ever lied to you?”

I stand there, frozen. How am I supposed to know the answer to that? I have no way to prove either answer.

Riley finishes, washes her hands, then moves past me to the top of the stairs. She brushes past me, and I realize again how tall she is. A shiver goes up my skin from where she touched me. Riley fiddles with something on the wall. It looks like…a mousetrap glued to the wall?

Shit. So she wasn’t lying.

“Come.” Riley grabs my hand and pulls me downstairs. Her hand is surprisingly soft and shoots a bolt of electricity through me.

It feels weird. I pull away from her as soon as I can.

The downstairs is basic, too. There are only two couches, no coffee table, a dining room table, and some chairs. It’s an open floor plan, all surrounding the stairs. There are dusty parts and clear wood floors all around the place. Almost like furniture was moved out, and it was never cleaned. All the curtains are drawn. It feels eerie. Like this place used to be a home, but now it’s just a shell.

Riley opens the freezer. “Want steak?”

I swallow, looking around. The mousetraps are all over the house.

Riley just looks at me. “If you’re planning on running, you’ll need more food in your system.”

I square my shoulders. “Wouldn’t make sense to run with you right here.”

Riley lifts an eyebrow. We stare at each other for a second, then she laughs. “You know, you’re alright, Rachel.” She goes back to the freezer, grabbing a bag of something.

Riley pan-fries some meat, and I watch silently. I note everything I can about her. She’s much stronger than me and has a patchwork of tattoos along her arms. Her hair is still in those two braids, and she doesn’t wear makeup. What’s her story?

Riley puts a plate of steak down in front of me. She hands me a fork and a sharp knife, then gets some of her own and sits across from me.

We eat in silence. Or, I try to eat. The steak tastes…off. I try to pretend like I’m eating to appease her. I didn’t see her put anything in it, but it definitely doesn’t taste right.

Riley watches me push a piece of meat around the plate. I glance at her, and her face switches from blank to friendly in an instant. “Don’t like venison?”