Page 50 of Slay Ride

“I never said I was coming to your room,” she whispers back.

“Any chance we could hurry this along?” Kindra says. “Lunch will be ready in twenty minutes, and some of us need to change clothes.”

I pluck up a bag when she takes too long to decide, which earns me a huff from her pouty lips. She should have been quicker. Once she grabs the remaining bag, we walk to the front of the room, where two fresh Cattle have already been positioned.

Kindra rolls her hand through the air. “Let’s get this shit show on the road. Go!”

Opening my bag, I find a glass reindeer statue the size of my hand. Unless a gun waits within that brown paper in her hands, this couldn’t be any easier for me. I lower the reindeer to the floor, then step on it while holding one of the antlers. Crystal crunches under my shoe, and I come away with a sharp, pointy spear about the size of my finger, complete with a smooth antler grip.

“I know Christmas was a couple of weeks ago, but I’m feeling quite festive.” I turn to my prey and drag the sharp end down the man’s cheek. Blood beads along the cut.

Giggles erupt from the peanut gallery, and I’m feeling quite pleased with my joke. Until I realize they aren’t laughing at me. They’re laughing at Cat.

Since everyone is looking at her, I feel safe enough to take a peek, but when I see what she’s doing, I don’t find it funny at all. With the grace of Mia Khalifa, she’s deep-throating a jumbo peppermint stick.

“You’re supposed to use it as a weapon, not suck it off,” I say. “You’ll be here all day at this rate, so I guess I can take my time with my kill.”

She rolls her blue eyes and keeps sucking.

I turn my attention back to the squirming man in front of me before Cat’s erotic impression of a Dyson gives me a gnarly case of blue balls. It’ll take her at least ten minutes to shape that thing into a tip that’s pointy enough to do damage. I should know. I used to make peppermint shanks every Christmas.

This actually presents a good opportunity to let her win, though. While I pretend to lose myself to torturing this asshole in front of me, she’ll have time to sharpen that point and make her first kill. Then I can act all mad before I rush to my room and strip down to my boxers so she can put her mouth skills to better use.

But time ticks by, and Cat still doesn’t make a move. My victim is an artwork of bloody lattice etchings; hers is still entirely intact. He doesn’t even look concerned anymore.

Cat pulls the peppermint stick from her mouth and takes a look. The end is sharp enough, but she inserts it into her mouth again and keeps sucking.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I mutter under my breath.

She’s nervous, and I don’t think she has the balls to make the kill. Kindra and I might be the only people who know her well enough to spot the panicked glint in her eyes, but it will become obvious to everyone if I don’t do something.

I step over to her, snatch the red-and-white rod from her mouth, and plunge it into her Cattle’s throat. Repeatedly. The pointed tip holds its shape until the fourth downward swing, when it breaks off inside the man’s neck.

Cat stands behind her gurgling victim, her mouth gaping and her eyes wide. I can’t tell if she’s relieved or pissed.

“Bennett, you have about three seconds to get out of range before I start swinging,” she says.

Pissed. She’s definitely pissed.

“Okay, I think that’s enough for one day.” Kindra stands and hurries to get between us before Cat can rush forward and claw out my eyes. “Everyone, take fifteen to clean up, and we’ll all meet in the dining hall for lunch.”

She wraps an arm around her blonde friend’s shoulder and begins leading her out of the room. Eve joins them, though she takes extra pains to turn and scowl at me. I raise my middle finger in salute before the door shuts behind them.

“Boy, you’ve really put your foot in it this time,” Ezra says with a shake of his head as he helps Maverick begin gathering the bloody tarps. “You couldn’t just let her get the kill? She was so close.”

People are filing out of the room, but there are still too many ears present for me to tell Ezra the truth, which is that I wasn't trying to be a dick for once. I was trying to help her.

So I shrug and say what is expected of me. “She was taking too long, and I was sick of waiting.”

“Then why not kill your target, hmm? Why go for hers?”

“To make it more interesting, I guess,” I say. “I don’t know.”

Ezra drops his corner of the tarp, sending a slosh of red onto the carpet. Jim sucks in a breath and kneels to examine the stains as Ezra steps into me.

“You have to stop with this childish shit, and soon. Kindra and I put a lot of work into?—”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it. You worked so hard, blah, blah. I’m going to my room. I have a headache.”

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