Page 40 of Ready Or Not

I caught the jealousy on Rachel’s face, and it shot a thrill through my entire body. Rachel is pissed! I’ve seen other people get jealous before, but seeing my reserved doe get possessive makes victory run through me.

It’s almost as good as winning a fight with Manson, and I can’t help but grin.

We move into the house enough for me to shut the door behind us. I just want my woman to have a harder time running from me. I stand behind the couch, staring at the man’s TV. His handle is user1995.

I snort. So he keeps the same one across all platforms. Stupid.

“I don’t really play the campaign a lot,” the man mutters, standing awkwardly.

“I’m sure you’re better at it than I am.” I laugh, twirling the end of my braid in my hand. “I really can’t stay long, but I’ve been looking for someone good who can help me.”

The man closes out his round and then moves to the campaign. Manson knows I love this game. It’s why he dresses like one of the characters.

Beside me, Rachel is stiff as a statue. It’s cute. She’s way smarter than this dumbass. She, at least, knows something bad is going to happen. This is fun. I like showing off for Rachel. Having her watch me walk inside here without waving a gun around. I also like watching her squirm. How long will she play along before she forgets about my gun and tries to fuck around?

We talk for a bit as the man runs us through a round. Rachel stays silent. Watching. Observing. Taking everything in. Which I’ve noticed is her default. Rachel won’t act until she’s sized up her enemies and knows their intentions. She’s like Manson that way, and I get a slight twinge of annoyance. I’ll show her how fun it can be to be impulsive. Fuck, I didn’t plan on coming here today, but I’m so glad we did.

As we chat, I size up user1995’s house. It’s everything I thought it would be. Sloppy, with dirty clothes on the couches and the sink piled with dishes. He’s clearly not used to Mommy and Daddy not doing everything for him. Beer cans are all over the counter, so either he threw a party, or he’s a massive drunk. There’s trash on the coffee table, along with snacks and a pocket knife.

“Oh my god, you hunt?” I point to the deer’s head on the wall.

“Huh?” The man glances up. “Oh, yeah.”

I let out a sigh. “I’ve always thought that was so hot—someone being able to live off the land.” I glance at Rachel out of the corner of my eye. She’s throwing me an incredulous look, and I wink at her.

“I’m sure you killed that deer yourself,” I say.

The man glances up again. “What? Uh, yep.” He goes back to his game.

I roll my eyes, then pull the Glock out of my waistband. “You must have used one of these, right?”

Rachel sucks in a breath.

The man glances back, and for a second, his face is blank. Then, he freezes, registering the gun.

I grin at him. “Well, did you?”

“What the fuck?” The man jumps to his feet.

“No.” I wave the gun at him. “Sit back down.”

“You’re fucking crazy!” he shouts but doesn’t sit down.

I fire a shot into the TV. “Sit. Down.”

Rachel screams. The man trembles, shaking and frozen. I lock my gaze with his until he blinks, then sits down with a thud.

I glance at Rachel. Last time I fired a round, she freaked out and seemed to go into her own little world, and she’s doing it again—just standing, frozen.

I don’t want her in her own little world. I want her here. I grab Rachel’s hand with my unoccupied one and yank her toward me. She has a glazed look on her face, so I smash my lips down on her plump ones. She’s so much softer than Manson. So delicate and fucking delicious.

Rachel is still for a second, then struggles to get away, biting at my lips.

I chuckle, licking the sweet taste that’s her. Fuck, the blood is rushing to my pussy. Rachel continues to struggle, then reaches up and pinches my nipple. Hard.

I suck in a breath, letting her lips go but keeping her hand locked in mine. I stare down into her pretty eyes, ready to fuck her right here and right now.

“Get out of my house!” the man cries.