Ready Or Not (The Hunter’s Club #2)

Chapter 10

10

Formaldehyde Footsteps - BertieBanz

“Please. Just let me go home.” I stare at Manson moving around in the kitchen. He took a picture of me at gunpoint, messed around on his phone, and then got up to make us drinks like he didn’t have a care in the world.

I eye the area of the house Manson originally came from. It looks like there’s a living room with stairs going up, but it’s dark.

“You said you’d let me go.”

Manson doesn’t even glance back.

I stand. My legs are still shaky, and I still feel sick from the pills I took. I curse myself again for taking them.

Manson turns back around, three solo cups in his hands.

I freeze.

Manson merely raises an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t suggest running. You’ll puke all over my floors. Again.”

I glare at him. “Let me go.”

“We’re gonna play a game.” He puts the cups down on the coffee table. They’re full of some sort of red liquid.

I take a step back.

“It’s fruit punch.” Manson shakes his head. “I don’t want you getting sick and making more of a mess. Drink it. You need the sugar.”

The man’s eyes are eerily blank. There’s no expression in them at all.

I narrow my eyes. “What’s the game?”

A corner of Manson’s mouth quirks up in a smirk. “Russian roulette.”

“Fuck no.” Adrenaline runs through me. I need to get out of here. I know he has a gun, and I have to go. Running is less dangerous than staying here.

Just as I dart up, there’s the sound of a door slamming back in the house.

Manson smirks.

A shadowy figure in a biker helmet stalks to the living room. She yanks the helmet off her head and snaps, “Rachel, come here.”

It’s Riley.

I’m frozen. Which is the lesser of two evils?

“Rachel,” Riley snaps.

Stiffly, I move her way without taking my eyes off Manson. He just watches Riley.

“Riley.” His voice sounds bored.

“Enough, Manson.” Riley reaches into her waistband and pulls out a gun.

Quick as a flash, Manson has his gun out, and it’s pointed at me.

I scream, automatically scrambling to get away.

Riley steps in front of me, grabbing me and shoving me behind her. “Go ahead. Shoot me, Manson.”

“Get out of the way.”

“Make me.”

There’s a growl.

I yank on my arm as hard as I can. It rips out of Riley’s grip, and I fall on my hip. Quickly, I scramble up, and a gunshot explodes through the house.

Wood splinters by my right leg, cutting into me. The force of it causes my leg to buckle, and I drop to my hands.

“Next one goes into her skull. Come here.”

My ears ring, and everything feels fuzzy.

“You won’t kill me, Riley. I know where Pup went.”

More ringing.

“He’s dead. That was ten years ago,” Riley bites.

My leg feels hot. I glance down at it. It’s red. There’s a lot of red.

“Guess you won’t know unless you both come here.”

There’s a harsh curse, then I’m yanked up by my armpits. Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion. Is this shock? I’m placed back on the couch, in the middle between Manson and Riley.

He throws us a brilliant grin, flashing his white teeth. “You’re back, little intrigue.”

“Don’t talk about my fucking toy like that,” Riley snaps.

Manson’s grin only grows wider. I shiver. I see the smile lines around his eyes.

“Tell me about Pup.”

“Only if you play my game.” Manson reaches to the coffee table, where the drinks are still laid out. “Drink, Rachel.”

“Fuck you,” I grit. My leg is pounding.

Manson just laughs. “Your life means nothing to me. Drink, or I’ll kill you.”

The only thing that comes to mind is the image of my brain all over the walls. I open my mouth, “That would make more of a mess than puke.”

Manson shakes his head. “Naive girl. Drink.”

I look at Riley. She raises an eyebrow at me, then glances at Manson.

“You’re gonna play the same game with her that I play with you,” Manson demands.

Silence.

“We’ll play, then I’ll tell you about Pup.”

Riley reaches for the coffee table and snatches up a drink for herself. “There’s nothing to know. He disappeared. End of story.”

Manson leans back, something flashing in his eyes. “But it’ll kill you that I’m the only one who knows.”

Riley glares at him, then chugs the drink.

Manson fixes a dead stare on me. “Drink.”

I feel the powerful bodies on both sides of me. Both are people with guns who seem to hate me for no reason.

“Here.” Riley grabs a drink from the table, then throws a leg over me, mounting me. I gasp as Riley looks down at me with a grin on her beautiful face. “Open up.”

“Fuck you.” Adrenaline races through me. If I’m going to die, I’ll die fighting.

Riley smirks, running a finger up the side of my neck. The mock gentleness makes me shiver. “Be a good pet, and obey.”

I search Riley’s dark eyes. They bore into mine with intoxicating intensity. Her face looks soft and feminine, with pretty cheekbones and a flush on her cheeks, but her eyes are harsh. Riley’s pupils grow wider, and she leans down to my ear. Her delicate breath brushes the shell of my ear. “I’d love to make you choke on it.”

She pulls back enough for me to meet her gaze again. I narrow my eyes, then snatch the cup out of her hand. I down it, the sugary drink immediately making me want to vomit.

Victory lights in Riley’s eyes. She lowers her forehead to mine, her eyes hooded, whispering, “That’s my good girl.”

My heart races. Riley pulls back enough to continue to look into my eyes. I become deeply aware that she’s still straddling my lap, her soft tits right in my line of vision. My cheeks burn.

“Manson,” Riley says. Manson reaches to grab the last cup, then also shoots it down.

“You dosed all of them.” Riley says it like a statement.

Manson’s eyes glint. “Gotta keep things interesting, Riley Kennedy.”

Riley leans over, grabbing Manson’s jaw. His smirk just grows.

“That’s not my name. I’d rather die than marry you.”

Manson groans. “Keep talking dirty, Mrs. Kennedy.”

“Fuck you.” Riley spits on Manson.

He grunts, snapping his hand out to her throat and yanking her off me.

I scoot back. The pain in my leg comes shooting back. I glance down. There’s a piece of wood the size of a pencil sticking out of it.

Shit. I can’t pull it out, or it’ll start bleeding heavier.

“Let’s play hide and seek.” Manson grabs Riley’s hips. “Whoever finds the toy first, fucks her.”

“Stop playing and tell me what I want to know. I took your stupid drink.”

I stand in confusion. How dare they treat me like just a game? Is this what happened to Cali? Is this how she died?

Rage rushes through me. I refuse to be just a game to them.

“You have till the count of zero, Rachel.”

I jump. Why are they talking to me? Why can’t they play their own stupid game and keep me far, far out of it?

“Thirty. Twenty-nine.”

I jump up. As I dart past the coffee table, Manson lunges at me and grabs at the wood in my leg. I scream, my body numb with adrenaline.

“Twenty-eight.”

I dart to the back door, but Riley chases after me, putting herself between me and the door. “Stay inside, bambi,” Riley demands.

I backpedal away, then go the only place I can—up the stairs.

Manson’s monotone counting continues. The second floor is just as dark as downstairs. I dart into the room at the top, hoping there’s a porch roof or something to jump out on.

The bedroom is virtually empty, just a bed and a nightstand. And outside the window, there’s no porch. Just a straight drop to the hard ground below.

I yank on the window latches anyway. They’re stuck.

“Ready or not…here we come.”

Fuck! That was way faster than 30 seconds. I dart to the closet. There are some clothes and shoes, but it’s mostly empty. Shutting the door behind me, I tuck myself into the corner and grab a shoe, anything to use as a weapon. I immediately try to slow my breathing. It comes hard and fast, and my heart is beating so quickly I feel it squeeze with every pump.

As I still, fire races up my leg. It hurts more now, and it feels wet. I reach my fingers down. Fuck, the stick is gone, and warm, heavy blood soaks my sock.

Footsteps sound up the stairs in a heavy cadence.

“Where are you, little intrigue?”

“She’s mine, so fuck off.”

I grip the shoe harder. As I do, a rush of bright light rushes through my head. What the hell? I suck in a breath, squeezing my eyes shut.

Something scratches outside the closet, and I snap my eyes open, trying to see in the pitch-black.

“Bambiii.”

More scratching. Are they scratching the walls? It makes shivers run down my arms. Fuzziness fills my brain, and for a second, overwhelming sensations wrap me in bursts of color and goosebumps. I suck in a breath to stop my spiral. What is going on?

“Oh, bambi. You left such a perfect bloody trail.”

The closet door rips open, and Riley grins down at me.

I scream, launching myself at her.

Riley ducks into me, grabbing me around the waist. I slam the shoe into her head, clawing at her.

She laughs, “Yes, feisty thing. Fight me so good.”

Suddenly, I’m flying through the air. I bounce on something soft, realizing I’ve landed on the bed. Riley crawls up over me, grinning. “Keep going. Make me stop, Rachel.”

I twist over, trying to get up on my hands and knees, but Riley just drops onto my back. Her grip is harsh and painful.

“Need some help?” Manson’s voice deadpans. The deep sound of his voice wraps around me in a warm hug. My brain is fuzzy again. I struggle weakly.

You can’t feel sounds. Why am I feeling sounds?

I jerk my elbow back, crashing it into something.

“Jesus.”

The pain cracks down my arm, shooting into my mouth and exploding out of it in a burst of color. I watch the splatters of blue drop onto the bed.

What the actual fuck? What the hell was in that drink?

There’s a laugh, and then I’m flipped back over.

“Damn. It’s pretty.”

I glance down. Both of them are looking at my leg. In the dim light of the room, I see the red smeared all over the light bedspread. It looks like it’s fucking glowing.

Fuck! I scramble back, only to be stopped by Riley’s grip on my hips.

“Yes,” she chuckles. “Keep painting your pretty blood all over Manson’s bed.” She jumps up on the bed and sits on my legs.

“Get off me!” I kick, but my limbs feel fuzzy.

“Does it hurt?” Riley turns her blank eyes on me.

I swallow. I don’t know what she’s talking about. Something is wrong with my head; the colors are so much brighter.

They watch me with predatory stillness. Then, slow grins creep over their faces.

“Good,” Riley coos. “Show me just how much it hurts.” She ducks down, holding my leg down, then licks her hot tongue across my skin.

An explosion of heat, goosebumps, and pain runs up my leg. Riley lifts her face, her mouth and chin covered in blood, and grins at Manson.

He grabs her chin and smashes his lips to hers, kissing her heavily.

I watch them, entranced. The glowing red reflects on their skin, making them look luminescent. Manson’s powerful body looms over Riley, but she gives it just as good as she gets, shoving back into him.

With a snarl, Manson lets go of Riley and dips his head to my leg. He licks my wound in an aggressive swipe, ripping his tongue along the edges. White hot pain flashes in the room, and I close my eyes from the brightness. The warmth of the blood and his tongue set my leg on fire, and suddenly, my mouth fills with the taste of copper. All the sensations overwhelm me, and I thrash back and forth.

“Good girl. Give me that pain.” Riley groans and reaches her hand down to her cunt, rubbing herself over her pants.

Too much. It’s too much. Every time I’m touched, lights flash across my vision. Bright whites streak back and forth as pain flashes through my leg. The whole room looks brighter, and the shadows move and dance.

“Shhh.”

I don’t realize I’m screaming until Manson claps his hand over my mouth.

“You ever been on a trip before?” Riley cocks her head at me.

I blink. It looks like light is shooting out of her eyes. They’re so big and bright and expressive. How did I not notice how expressive they are?

The corners crinkle, and she smiles. “Oh, this’ll be fun.” She ducks down, and I feel hot fingers on my hips before my shorts are yanked down.

“No,” I groan into Manson’s hand. He laughs, the sound rich and deep. It fills the air with actual warmth and sends a bolt of heat straight to my clit.

Riley bites down on my pussy, and I scream, the sound coming out muffled. The pain shoots through me in bursts of color.

I think I pass out for a second because everything is peaceful and quiet one second, and then suddenly, it’s all loud again. Sensation rushes over my entire body, but I feel something on my pussy. I snap my eyes open and see Riley’s fingers press down on my clit. She rubs it firmly. Despite everything, pleasure shoots through me. She’s not gentle, and I buck up into her.

“Good girl. Be my pretty little slut,” she says. “Let Manson watch something he can’t have.”

Immediately, there’s a growl, and Riley’s hand is snatched off my pussy. I snap my eyes open to see Manson’s head duck between my legs. He latches onto my clit and sucks aggressively.

My back bows, and I let out a scream. The pleasure tastes warm, like honey.

Tastes? Fuck, something is messed up.

Manson eats me firmly and consistently until I feel the orgasm approaching. All the sensations are heightened, and the wave of pleasure hits me startlingly fast. I come, my muscles locked up, lights dancing around the room, and honey on my tongue.

Riley watches me with a smirk. Her face and mouth still glow red.

Manson pulls back. “I got her to come faster than you did.”

Riley arches an eyebrow. “You looked good bowing when I told you to eat.”

Manson’s eyes narrow. “I took your toy, little sister.”

Riley smiles. “You’re so easy to manipulate, you know that Manson?”

I see the aggression before he moves. It’s like a wave of heat rolls off Manson, and he lunges at Riley.

I struggle to roll away, but my muscles are like liquid gold. Manson wrestles Riley until she’s lying next to me and looks down at both of us with a feral smile. “There. Both of my pretty toys are under me. Just how I like it.”