Page 3 of Ready Or Not

I cry out, shoving hard against him. In his inebriated state, Ben takes a stuttering step back.

“Hey, baby.” Ben immediately comes back, pinning me against the counter. “What’s wrong?”

“Get off me.” His body is damp with sweat, and I feel it on every inch of my skin. It makes panic race through me. His slightly sticky shirt makes me want to scratch all my skin off.

“What?” Ben grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him. His grip is soft, with just enough pressure that I can’t get away. “Chill, baby. I’ll make you feel good.”

I suck in a breath.

Suddenly, Ben’s hand is down my pants.

I cry out, struggling to get away. Ben fumbles around, his fingers brushing my pussy over my panties.

“I’ll be gentle.” The smell of old beer and bad breath wraps around my skin, and I can feel it all over my face.

It’s not the first time I’ve heard those words, and they make my whole body lock up. I want to throw up. I can’t move.

“C’mon, it’ll feel good.”

For a moment, I’m locked in the past. I can’t move my arms. I can’t move my face. Can’t even blink.

A fresh burst of beer breath wakes me up. I reach back, fumbling for a knife out of the knife block.

“What a good girl.” Ben presses me against the counter just hard enough that I can’t leave. My arm hurts craning it back, but then I grip a knife and brandish it in his face.

“Whoa.” His eyes widen, and he takes a step back

I suck in a breath. “Where is Cali?”

“Girl, chill.” Ben has his hands up.

I wave the knife at him, my hand shaking. “Where the fuck is Cali?”

“Cali?” Ben looks confused.

“Yes! Your girlfriend?” The adrenaline rushes through me, and my voice comes out high and uncontrolled.

“She’s not my girlfriend; she dumped me two weeks ago!”

“Where is she? Don’t pretend like you don’t know.”

Ben throws his hands in the air and backs up a step. “Not you, too! First the cops, then you?”

“Tell me where she is,” I demand. My arm is fully shaking, and my hand is numb as the adrenaline courses through me. Nothing is going right, and I’m ruining this whole thing. I’ve fucked it up so massively.

“Is this why you invited me over?” Ben glares at me.

I don’t answer. I suddenly realize how big Ben is and how I might very well become his next target.

I brandish the knife again. “Get out.”

Ben’s face is red. “You can’t fucking threaten me!”

“Get the fuck out!”

He stumbles back again, “I’ll call the cops!”

I follow him with the knife, a slew of emotions running through me so fast I can’t keep track of them.

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