Page 98 of Ready Or Not

I open my mouth to defend her, but she speaks up first. “If you can’t tell Riley what to do, how do you expect it to work for me?”

I jerk to get out of Manson’s grip so I can deck him before he hits my woman, but he just throws his head back and laughs.The laugh is deep, throaty, and the first time I’ve heard it in…forever.

I just stare at him. Is he okay?

Manson lets us go and pulls a gun from the back of his waistband. For a brief second, I think he’s going to use it on Rachel, but he just checks that it’s loaded and keeps it pointed at the ground. “Whoever finds him gets him.”

He glances at Rachel, then pulls a knife out of his pocket and, to my complete shock, gives it to her. “Use this on either of us, and I’ll braid your intestines while you’re still alive.” He winks at her, then turns back to me. “I should get a head start since I’m at a disadvantage.”

I almost have to shove my mouth shut. Who is this Manson? Where’s the lecturing? The bitching?

He just looks at me. “Oh, don’t worry. I have a lot to say when this is done, and you’re going to sit and listen to every word while Rachel dyes your hair whatever fucking color it takes to undo this shit.”

I swallow. He looks just like the Manson I’ve always known. The annoying brother, the overbearing fucking dick, and the man who killed my dog. But…he didn’t. He killed the person who did, and that brings a warmth to my chest that I didn’t think my dead heart was capable of feeling.

As I look at him, Manson rolls his eyes and shoves past me. “Finders keepers, Riley.”

I snap out of it, darting after him. “You break it, you buy it! I broke it; it’s mine.”

Manson just shoves me out of the way, making me stumble into the corn. Oh, this fucker wants to be a dick? I jump up, grinning, and chase after him.

55

Pull the Plug - VOILA

I watch them run into the corn, and the most profound sense of loneliness washes over me. I see the love those two look at each other with. Well, it’s not love. It’s a fucked up mix of possession, protectiveness, hate, and loyalty.

And I want it.

And if that doesn’t scare the living piss out of me, I don’t know what will. Fucking hell, get me into a therapist. Right fucking now. Because I’m feeling left out of a murderous duo.

Despite myself, I find my feet following them. I’m gliding on my tiptoes, and I shuck my shoes off and keep going. I feel the earth under my toes, just like I wanted to do when I first came to this maze.

I should go. I absolutely should go. Run and not look back. They won’t want me. They have each other. That’s why they needed me all along, right?

But I’m still running over the earth, following them. I cut out of the maze into the rows of uncut corn. The dry leaves are whispering in the hot wind, and I smell the acidic dirt.

I hear shouts and veer toward them.

I’ll run. I will. I just need to see this last one out.

For my papa’s sake.

There’s a scream close by, and I slow, peeking around. There are no lights in this part of the field, but my eyes have adjusted.

There’s a crash of corn and a bloodcurdling scream. It’s followed by a gleeful laugh. It’s Riley.

“What’s my name, little pincushion?”

“I found him first.”

There’s another scream, and I inch closer. I see them then. Manson and Riley stand around a man on the ground. He’s gripping his side, heaving for breath.

Riley kicks him. “I asked you a question.”

“Riley,” the man pants.

I see the flash of her teeth as she grins. “Wooow. Better than Sooners.”

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