Page 13 of Ready Or Not

Jealousy rips through me, and I glare at where I saw Riley’s bike tear off down the street. I followed her here, of course, intent on doing the very thing she told me to do.

But now, I’m interested.

And that’s what has me walking up to the small house Riley was just in. When I see the front door ajar and the splintered doorframe, something hot closes around my chest.

Reckless. This girl is so fucking reckless. She’s going to get herself caught. She didn’t even wear gloves.

I step over the splintered wood. The house is silent, and the walkthrough indicates one occupant, the same female from earlier, in her bed. How she’s slept through two break-ins is beyond me and actually pisses me off.

I spot something on the bedside table. Pulling on the latex gloves I always keep with me, I check the bottle and find sleeping meds prescribed to Rachel Hiebert. That would explain why she didn’t wake.

Rachel, hmmm? What about you has caught the eye of my Riley?

Sure, she’s stunning. She has a nice body, a pretty face, and blue-streaked hair. But it’s not unusual for Riley to find lookers.

I sweep the house more carefully, looking for answers, then unlock Rachel’s phone using her face ID. I start with her messages, but I don’t see any between her and Riley. Although, I know Riley posts online as almost everyone but herself, so her real name wouldn’t pop up. But nothing looks like anything Riley would be remotely interested in. In fact, there isn’t much of anything. The person Rachel talked to most, some Cali chick, cut off contact about a month ago.

I check Rachel’s search history.

Oh. Cali went missing a month ago. Rachel is obsessed with finding information about her, or obsessed with finding informationothersknow about her. It appears Cali was in trouble, and then she disappeared. The disappearance looks clean. Nothing sloppy, not like most murders done by emotional people.

Much like a job I would pull.

I stare down at the sleeping woman and narrow my eyes. She doesn’t seem capable of killing anyone. So if not her, then do I have a rival running my streets?

My fingers clench on the phone. I know it wasn’t Riley. I keep close tabs on her. I will not allow Riley to kill anyone until she’sless sloppy and impulsive. I’ve spent years teaching her how to be, but she fights me at every turn.

My chest is tight again. I rarely feel anger, but of all people, Riley pulls it out of me easily. She’s stubborn and refuses to be taught. She also is damn near impossible to manipulate. The woman is cold. Ruthless.

And so very interesting.

I drop the phone on the bed and check out Rachel’s bookshelf. Riley has never been interested in a woman like she has Rachel. So, I check Rachel’s books. I find there’s plenty of information to be used against women on their bookshelf. They keep all their hopes, dreams, and fears all prettily bound up in printed words. Perfect for me, or anyone with half a brain, to exploit.

I sift through Rachel’s selection, finding much less romance than I thought. Most of her books are thrillers, splatterpunk, or horror. I find a few self-help books on Autism and one on how to talk to people.

I cock my head. I have the same one at home. Why does Rachel need to learn how to talk to people?

Riley’s text still burns in my mind.

Kill this one, too, I don’t care.

Oh, Riley, but I think you do care.

I don’t think I’ll kill this one just yet. I think there’s a few more miles I can get out of her.

I turn back to the bed and check her pill bottle. Rachel’s prescription was just refilled, and she hardly has any left. She must have damn near overdosed herself on the pills. Convenient for me.

Unless she dies, of course.

Fucking hell. I’m going to have to do something I haven’t done for anyone except Riley—keep someone alive.

I haul Riley’s obsession over my shoulder. She shifts and groans slightly but otherwise remains unconscious.

Well, my little intrigue. You’re going to have to stay breathing for a while. You’re not done being useful.

6

Mind Games - Sickick

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