Page 16 of Ready Or Not

“Why is she obsessed with you?”

I have no idea what he’s talking about. That woman is fucking horrible. Why the hell does he think I have a relationship with her? But instead of those words, what comes out is a soft, “Hard to be obsessed with someone you just met.”

Manson eyes me. “That is incorrect.”

I scoff out a breath. Is this some kind of quiz? Why is he wasting time with me? “If you already know the answers, why are you asking?”

Manson’s eyebrows shoot up for a fraction of a second. “If you don’t want to end up like Cali, you’ll start working with me.”

Ice fills my veins. For a second, all I see is my friend’s face. The friend I’ve been trying so desperately to find.

I shoot forward. “You know where she is?”

There’s a blank expression on his handsome face.

“Please,” I plead. I’m not touching him, but I’m close enough to. I look into his blank, green eyes. “Please tell me she’s alive.”

“Rachel. I asked why Riley is so obsessed with you.”

Frustration bubbles in my throat, and I clench my fists. “I don’t know! I don’t even know who Riley is. I don’t lie. I know you don’t know me, but I don’t lie.”

Manson eyes me, and my eyes dart to the gun. He still isn’t pointing it at me.

He sees me looking at it. “All right, I believe you.”

I open and close my mouth. I’m not sure what to say to that.

Manson leans forward and smiles. “Let’s play.”

7

Who Am I? Kode

6 years old

The ceiling fan hums, but the air is still hot. I roll back over in bed. I can’t sleep. It’s been happening a lot. I think about getting up to organize my Barbie clothes again, but I don’t want Papa to see the light under my door.

Thinking about getting caught makes a twisty feeling fill my belly. I already don’t feel good tonight. My head hurts, and it feels like everything is touching me all at once. The sheets stick to my skin, and it’s all sweaty, sweaty, sweaty.

I roll again. The night drags on. I don’t want to get up, but my head hurts, and I want medicine, but Mommy is in there with Papa. He’ll wake up if I get her.

I wait for what feels like hours until I feel like jumping out of my own head. Maybe it won’t happen tonight.

I creep out of my bed and open my door slowly. The light under my parent’s door is off. Well, Papa isn’t my actual dad, but he’s been living with us for a few years.

I pad to the kitchen, looking for the bottle of medicine Mom keeps above the sink.

“Rachel?”

I jump. Papa is sitting in his green armchair in the living room. It’s dark, except for the light from his phone.

“Papa,” I gasp.

“What are you doing up?” His voice is full of softness. I’ve learned that he makes his voice that way when he wants to sound like he cares.

I swallow. I feel my cheeks get hot, like I did something wrong. “My head hurts.”

Maybe he won’t do it. Maybe if he knows I’m hurting, he won’t do anything.

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