Page 91 of Wanna Play A Game?
Inwardly, I wince. I hate that he had to experience that. I slide into bed next to him, and he passes out within minutes.
I sneak out to grab one of my books and then read, snuggled up next to him.
At some point, I hear the front door slam and the truck start up. I get a text from Miles:
Cali’s asleep in the basement. Going out. Be ready when I get back.
I sit up straighter. Be ready? What is he talking about?
I check on Cali, who is indeed asleep, curled up on the couch downstairs. I stand there looking at her. She looks so soft and defenseless.
I’m torn between Ryder and Cali. I can’t just leave her unattended. But Ryder asked me to stay.
Reluctantly, I go back to Ryder’s room, leaving the door cracked to listen for Cali.
There’s no movement for a few hours. Then, I hear Miles return, and I meet him at the front door.
Only it’s not just him. He has a body over his shoulder.
“Miley!”
“Hey, Cyrus.” He shoulders past me and marches inside. “Do me a favor and get the basement door.” I smell sweat and piss. Miles’ eyes are alive with life, and he looks hot, shouldering another full-grown man with ease.
Excitement sinks into me, and I dart forward to assist. “What have you gotten yourself into, Miley?”
“It’s my turn for a hunt. So I’m hunting.”
Holy shit. Delicious excitement rolls through me, and I follow closely. Blood drips behind Miles on his way downstairs. The man must be passed out because he isn’t struggling. He looks vaguely familiar, but I can’t quite see his face.
Miles takes him to the cell, and I follow as close as I can. He heaves the man over his shoulder and onto the cement ground.
The man’s head makes a hollow crack.
“Dude,” I punch Miles on the shoulder. “What a waste, he’s not even awake. Who is it?”
Miles motions inside with disgust.
I soak in the drama he’s treating this with. Miles is pissed. How exciting.
I step over the body and crouch down.
“Well, well, well.” I stand. Disgust runs through me. “If it isn’t Ben.”
Chapter 44
Miles
Ipeek out into the basement. Cali hasn’t stirred. I shut the door to the cell. It’s thick and slightly sound-resistant.
I dragged a gurney in here earlier. Sawyer helps me load Ben onto it, strapping him down. He even looks like a pussy ass bitch with his box died, blond hair and mouth in a permanent pout.
Pure hatred runs through my veins. My body hums with the idea of another hunt. I grab the smelling salts from my pocket and wave them under his nose.
Ben jerks.
I lean over the piece of shit, running my finger down his cheek. “Wakey, wakey, sleepyhead.”
He groans.
