Ready Or Not (The Hunter’s Club #2)

Chapter 12

12

Past the Past - New Medicine

Rachel is fully tripping out, her little chest rising and falling rapidly. I’m not surprised that my little deer hasn’t taken acid before, but seeing her so out of it makes me feel a strange sense of protectiveness.

Manson still towers over both of us. He’s stunningly handsome, and I hate to admit that. He’s always been the hottest man I’ve ever seen.

Manson looks between both of us, and then his gaze locks on Rachel. I look over to see what he’s looking at.

“Prove yourself,” Manson says softly.

“What?” I blink at him.

He turns his green eyes on me. “Prove. Yourself.”

Our conversation from the club comes rushing back to me.

Manson pulls back, and I sit up. “Oh, that’s not how this works.”

“Isn’t it?” He folds his heavily tattooed arms.

“No.” The old bitterness and resentment washes over me. “You don’t get to push me around and pick who I get to kill and who I don’t.”

“If you can’t do it, just say so.”

I jump to my feet and get in Manson’s face. My voice comes out low, “You know damn well I can do it.”

“Then do it.” He lifts an eyebrow.

You know what? I take it back. He may have the jawline of the century, but Manson is the most infuriating prick I’ve ever met. I seethe, “I was going to. With my mom. And then with you. And then with every mother fucker who crossed me.” Every single time, Manson has intervened. He told me if I killed anyone, he’d get me thrown in prison for the rest of my life. I’ve seen his connections, and he wasn’t kidding.

“It’s okay if you’re scared.”

It takes everything I have not to deck him. But he would love that. Instead, I grit, “You think you’re God and can just use me to kill off anyone you want?”

A small dimple forms on Manson’s right cheek.

Of course he does.

“Not happening.” Forget the fact I was okay with him killing Rachel just hours ago. Now, I’m going to make her outlive both of us just to spite him.

How inconvenient.

“Let’s go, bambi.” I grab her arm. “I think we’ve wasted enough time here.”

She struggles lightly, but she’s too far gone. I hardly even feel the effects. I’ve needed more and more doses to get me to feel anything recently.

“You can’t leave.” Manson steps in my way. “Not while high.”

“Rachel, did you hear something? Must be an annoying fly in here.” I grab her under her arms and lift her up. She’s so delicate and light, and it’s easy to make her do whatever I want. It makes my pussy throb.

“Riley–”

“If you don’t tell me about Pup, I swear I’ll never talk to you again.” The words slip out of my mouth before I can stop them. I shouldn’t care about Pup. I’m not sad that he’s probably dead. All creatures die. But I never knew what happened to him. And that part eats at me.

Manson’s voice lowers dangerously. “I wouldn’t suggest that, Riley.”

I shoulder Rachel into the hall, beyond pissed. “I swear, Manson. Not another word.”

He follows us down the stairs. “You can’t ride your bike with her. She’s tripping. She’ll jump right off the back, and you’ll wreck.”

I ignore him. We make it to the back door and out.

“Riley,” Manson growls.

Instead of my bike, I head to his truck. I pop the passenger side open, dump Rachel in, and then go to the other side.

“You can’t leave without?—”

I fish the keys I stole from his pocket out and dangle them in the air.

There’s a beat of silence.

I don’t wait. I open the door and get in.

“Pup is buried by the tree in my dad’s backyard.”

I freeze. Something uncomfortable grips my chest and hurts. I turn back to Manson.

He just looks at me.

“You killed him?”

Manson doesn’t answer.

He killed him. Some part of me cracks.

I slam the car door and peel away.