Page 27 of Ready Or Not

I turn away and head for the door.

“Wait,” Riley says.

I stop. I could get her kicked out of this club permanently, and she knows it.

“I’ll marry you if you get me in.”

Everything around me freezes, and the thudding of the base grows distant. The world stops.

This is the first time Riley hasn’t thrown the idea back in my face with hatred.

I turn and stare at her, soaking in her face. It’s a beautiful mask of indifference. She’s lying to get something that she wants. But I don’t care. This is the first step in breaking her down. The idea of her on my arm and my ring around her finger is something I’ve dreamed about for a long time.

Riley stares at me with her brilliant jewels of eyes. We stand there silently.

I know marrying your step-sibling is frowned upon by the rest of society. But I couldn’t care less.That’snot the issue. The issue is that she isn’t bowing at my feet, begging to be mine.

I look down at her. “You haven’t proven yourself, Riley. I can’t always be around to protect you.”

“I never asked you to.” Her eyes glint.

I shake my head. Riley never asked me to, but she’s needed it. As much as I want her on my arm willingly, it’s not something I’d sacrifice her safety for.

“Prove yourself to me, Riley. Do it the right way, don’t get caught, and for the love of Satan.” I snatch her up under her chin. “Don’t ever come here alone again.”

12

Past the Past - New Medicine

Rachel is fully tripping out, her little chest rising and falling rapidly. I’m not surprised that my little deer hasn’t taken acid before, but seeing her so out of it makes me feel a strange sense of protectiveness.

Manson still towers over both of us. He’s stunningly handsome, and I hate to admit that. He’s always been the hottest man I’ve ever seen.

Manson looks between both of us, and then his gaze locks on Rachel. I look over to see what he’s looking at.

“Prove yourself,” Manson says softly.

“What?” I blink at him.

He turns his green eyes on me. “Prove. Yourself.”

Our conversation from the club comes rushing back to me.

Manson pulls back, and I sit up. “Oh, that’s not how this works.”

“Isn’t it?” He folds his heavily tattooed arms.

“No.” The old bitterness and resentment washes over me. “You don’t get to push me around and pick who I get to kill and who I don’t.”

“If you can’t do it, just say so.”

I jump to my feet and get in Manson’s face. My voice comes out low, “You know damn well I can do it.”

“Then do it.” He lifts an eyebrow.

You know what? I take it back. He may have the jawline of the century, but Manson is the most infuriating prick I’ve ever met. I seethe, “I was going to. With my mom. And then with you. And then with every mother fucker who crossed me.” Every single time, Manson has intervened. He told me if I killed anyone, he’d get me thrown in prison for the rest of my life. I’ve seen his connections, and he wasn’t kidding.

“It’s okay if you’re scared.”

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