Page 29 of Rat Race

I didn’t care that if I had lingered like I wanted to, I would have been dead.

All I cared about washer.

I could see the ending in my mind. Her on the ground, her head bashed open. I would watch as she took her last few breaths of air, and she would be watching me as I towered over her.

It would be quick but effective. A sight I would never get out of my head for as long as I lived.

I wondered what her last thoughts would be. If she would be sorry about the way she treated me or if, up until the very end, she would still think she was better than me.

I hope she cursed my name as she felt her pitiful life slip from those ugly, fucked-up nails of hers.

I mean, how many times can someone getthatshade of vomit green?

An exhilarating thrill ran through me. This is the end.Not only was I going to see it, but I was going to be the one to usher her to it.

But there was one thing I didn’t plan for.

I had researched other mazes. Watched hundreds of hours of replays. Fuck, I had even started paying more attention to the cunt just so I had a better idea of how she might act in the maze.

But I hadn’t prepped for a certain, annoying Architect who was so hell-bent on saving his miniscule life that he would ruin mine.

I had accidentally put myself right in the middle of Hiram’s safety. I doubted he had any thought to save me—that would be out of character for him. He was probably hoping a trap would get me at some point. But he pushed us both out of the way in an attempt to get to the other side of the hallway.

And as she was moving toward him, her eyes still wide, he was the one to grab her first and use her body as the propellent he needed to get to safety.

I couldn’t fully understand it as it happened. I took in every detail. Every sight. Every sound.

Yet I couldn’t wrap my head around how on earth one minute she was there in front of me and the next, her body was being crushed under the bulls’ hooves as they turned around the curb and down the hallway we had originally come from.

That’s not right.

It was supposed to be me. Me. ME.

My mind was screaming at me to move. To do something.To fix this utterly disgusting wrong.

But I couldn’t.

“Move, damn it!” he growled and pushed us further down the hallway. “The bulls are programmed on a certain route. If you don’t move your ass, I’ll lose a fucking foot!”

It was supposed to be me. Me. Me. Me.

He didn’t even blink at what he did.Hepushed her in front of the bulls. All because she wanted the bounty he had on his head.

Like she was nothing.

Which she was, but how long had I been waiting for my opportunity? How long had I been dreaming about the day when I would finally be able to make the bitch pay for what she’d done?

And now she’s dead. I was supposed to kill her. ME.

No fanfare. No begging. Nothing to show the cameras. Nothing to watch back.

I wasn’t even the one to push her, for fuck’s sake.

I stood still, unable to move, until the bulls left and I finally saw what was left of her body.

It was an insult. A FUCKING INSULT.She was hardly even recognizable. The pretty image I had of her in my version of her death was far better than the real-life version. The real-life version was just… bland.

Especially when it was this bastardwho dealt the final blow.

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