Page 94 of Ready Or Not

She also grabs us medical gloves from a nurse’s cart and forces me to put them on. Fucking bustling around like a mother hen. This isn’t my first murder.

It’s my third. No thanks to Manson. He can be my fucking fourth.

My next target is sleeping in his room when we get there. Rachel shuts the door softly behind us, and the smell of rancid breath is locked in the room with us. It’s a small, dark room.

Rachel crosses her arms, leaning against the door and muttering, “There is no way we’re not going to get caught.”

I laugh, pecking her forehead through my masks. “Come here.”

“No.” She’s stiff. “Please. Just do what you’re going to do and…let’s go.”

“Now now.” I grab her hand and pull her with me into the dark room. “How else are you going to learn?”

“Learn?” She hisses. “I don’t need to learn–” but she stops talking as I round the bed of the man. I look down on his face, and suddenly, I see him over me with a grotesque sneer on his face. I’m frozen for a second, caught in the memory.

The smell of bad breath breaks me out of it. “Come here,” I demand roughly.

I don’t hear Rachel obey, but I can’t take my eyes off the man. He’s so frail now. Why didn’t I kill him back then? Why didn’t I stand up for myself?

A small hand slides into mine and squeezes. I look down, and Rachel is staring at the man. Her face is pale, making her dark lashes stand out against her creamy skin. In this moment, in the dim light, she’s so stunningly beautiful it almost takes my breath away.

I stand there, staring at her until she glances up at me.

My heart squeezes, and I suck in a breath, looking away. What the hell was that…thing squeezing my chest?

I glance around. I need to focus, and I need something to keep him quiet. I find socks in his drawer and stuff them into his open mouth.

The man stirs, coughing.

I wink at Rachel, who is still standing close, pulling a knife out of my back pocket. “Want to see what a dick looks like away from the body?”

I lean down into the man’s face. He’s sputtering awake, and I yank the covers and then his pants down. Seeing his body fills me with disgust. I should have killed this disgusting piece of shit back when I had a chance.

The man fights me, but he’s old and confused. I slice his dick off with a few saws. It’s hard to get a hold of since it’s so small and shriveled.

That’s when the screams start. And they sound so, so good. I turn with the dick, grinning at Rachel. She blinks slowly. I start to wave it in her face, just to get a good reaction out of her, when I drop it.

Fucking hell.

I bend down to get it, and as I glance back up, I see the man swinging a large item at Rachel’s head. She doesn’t see it; she’sjust watching me with the dick in my hands with a horrified expression.

I dart back up in time to catch the blow on my shoulder. The impact rocks through me, and rage lights inside me. This fuck was trying to hit my woman?

I think the fuck not. My vision goes blurry with more anger than I’ve felt all day. I whirl, ripping the thing—a Bible—out of the man’s hand. He tries to stop me, but there is no stopping me now. I raise it up and beat him down with it, hitting first his head, then his arms, then anything I can reach. All I see is hit after hit after hit. I want to see him bleed. I want to see him suffer. No one touches my woman.

There’s a tiny weight on my back, and I realize Rachel’s yelling in my ear. “Riley! Riley stop. Riley, please.”

I heave in a breath enough to make sure he isn’t going to move, then dare a glance at her.

“He’s dead. Please, let’s go,” she pleads.

I stare at her, then back at him. I can still recognize him. I haven’t done enough.

“Riley!” She rips at me again. “The more blood there is, the harder it’ll be to get away. Please!” She sounds desperate.

I catch her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. “I won’t let you get caught. It’s okay.”

“Then please, let’s go.” She looks up at me with the biggest eyes. She looks so vulnerable and pretty.

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