Page 95 of Wanna Play A Game?
The spoon! Where’s the spoon?
Her knee digs into my stomach. Fear hits me so hard I can’t breathe. I can’t see. I can’t see!
The comfort she held is gone, leaving a blank emptiness that I scramble to get away from.
“No!” I cry and struggle, but she doesn’t let up. I hate that crack of fear in my voice, the way tears start to burn in myeyes. This is going to hurt. More than a shot at the doctor’s office. More than when I fell off my bike. I know she wants it to hurt badly by how she looks at me.
I can’t fight the fear. I fight and cry and scream.
Why won’t she let me look?
I sit straight up, heaving for breath. Fuck. Where am I? I look around. I’m in the basement. The basement where the boys are.
Where I’m being held.
I realize tears have streaked down my face. I wipe them away. I hate that flashback. I looked for that toy when I got older. I thought that maybe the flashbacks would stop if I just found where she disappeared. I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t find her. I stopped believing in her that day.
I hear muffled, angry voices. For a second, they sound like my grandma, and I stiffen. I relax as soon as I hear the voices are lower and male.
I glance around. Where are they coming from?
As I do, the door to the cell they kept me in opens, and not just Sawyer and Miles but Ryder steps out as well. Miles closes the door behind them. All of them look at me, and Ryder crosses his arms.
Miles and Sawyer stare at me, but their gazes are blank. Sawyer cocks his head slowly. He looks like a predator.
My muscles tighten. Something isn’t right.
“What…what are you guys doing?” I ask.
A slow smile stretches across Sawyer’s face. “Hello, bunny.”
What the hell? I scoot to the edge of the couch. This isn’t the normal Sawyer. He’s flipped whatever switch he does.
Even Miles looks different. He looks detached.
I draw in a deep breath. My eyes flit to the stairs.
Sawyer drawls, “Either she’s going to fight, or she’s going to run, can’t decide which.”
“Why would I need to do either? What are you guys doing?” My heart is hammering.
“Let’s play a little game.” Sawyer stalks around the side of the couch closest to the stairs.
I take a step back.
Miles’ voice comes from partially behind me. “You’ll get points, bunny.”
I jump. Miles has rounded the couch on the other side, cutting off my escape from Sawyer. Behind me is blocked by the TV.
Sawyer smirks. “Ryder, get the cross.”
My gaze snaps to Ryder.
He’s standing like a silent sentinel.
He growls lowly. “I’m not your pet, Sawyer. Get it yourself.”
“Fine.” Sawyer shrugs. “All you, Miley.”
