Page 9 of Rat Race

Always a step ahead. Always outshining me.

I’d splatter her fucking brain for a mile.

This.Thiswas the benefit of being born a fucking Legacy. Of getting a golden ticket to the easy life.

I let out a primal scream, feeling the rush of anger explode through my body. Taking the curling iron into my hand by its handle, I threw it into the mirror, creating a cascade of sparkling glass fragments. What remained of its surface was spiderwebbed with cracks, distorting the perfect image it reflected back at me.

“Don’t destroy The Company’sproperty,” a guard yelled from the exit.

My returning glare could’ve peeled paint, my lip curling into a vicious sneer.

“Why don’t you come over here and—” I started, only to be spoken over.

It nearly threw me over the edge. But the last thing I was going to do was get disqualified for attacking a fucking glorified babysitter.

“Save it for the Games,” he called, the smile pulling at his thin lips, baring his overcrowded teeth. The expression itself caused another wave of frustration to go through me. He looked at me like he knew what my fate would be once I left this room.

He expects me to die.

Joke’s on him. The stupid fucker only saw the image I created for the cameras, nothing more. But that thought wasn’t comforting. It only made me angrier.

My watch flashed again with a countdown, warning that I only had half an hour before I needed to be at my gate. I pulled my jacket from the back of the chair, shrugging into it as I turned for the door.

“Waivers have already been signed, princess. There’s no backing out now,” he called mockingly.

I let out a laugh.

Back out? As fucking if.

With a final look in the shattered mirror, I fluffed my hair. Most of the other players had already cleared out, save forthe last lot, easily identifiable by their irritated, shell-shocked expressions as the reality of their situation started to sink in.

Fucking cannon fodder.

And I was nearly one of them.

I could feel their gazes on me as I flipped the guard the bird on the way by, picking up a glowing pink mask from a rack of colorful options. “See you in the winner’s circle.”

Even if I could, I wouldn't back out. I came here for a reason. Nothing scared me. Not the risk of being killed or whatever the fuck else awaited me in that maze.

I was here forher.

And I wouldn’t be leaving until I had my hands wrapped around her throat.

Cam

I won’t hurt you, sugar.

Iadjusted the red and white checked bandana around my neck—the very same one Pa handed me on my way out of the car. Where the costumes for Hide N’ Seek were mostly a mix of ultra-modern, sleek, cyberpunk styles, the clothes for the maze were different. Gussied up, given that we didn’t need to try to blend into mechanical equipment or tuck ourselves behind abandoned bumper cars.

The point was to be seen. Often, loudly, and ideally looking sexy while we ran for our lives.

Roosters gonna crow, y’know.

My stylist had gone for something subtle—not. Fitted wide-leg jeans and cowboy boots paired with a tight tank top that showed off my tattoos and muscular arms. Given I’d grown up in Texas—on the Ranchno less—it was fitting.

Especially the understated black cowboy hat. All I needed was to find myself some rope in the maze and I’d be ready to go—a veritable John Wayne.

Westons usually ended up in some form of cowboy attire, and I wasn’t the exception to the rule. Though I could’ve done without the star embellishments on my ass, even if they wereblack, made to mostly blend in with the denim. It still felt a bit… showboaty. For my taste at least. Ma would be thrilled.

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