Page 27 of Lucky 14

I start walking away.

“Where you going?” Suddenly, Riley is right there. She’s throwing her arm around me, yanking me to her.

“Get off me,” I hiss.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll chill,” Riley says in a low voice. Then she goes back to her normal voice, albeit louder, “The lucky number.”

I realize that Manson is next to us now, too, pulling the smaller person with him. I’m ushered out of the hall, then into the main check-in area.

I yank away from Riley. “What the hell?”

All traces of mirth are gone from her eyes, and she narrows them at me. “You’re welcome. You know, you’re not very good at this game, are you?”

The pressure in my chest feels so tight that I let out a small gasp of air. “Game? How can I be good at it if I don’t know what it is?”

“Go.” Manson shoves at me, pushing me further down the hall, glancing over his shoulder.

“What is this? What does it mean?” I wave the knife around.

Manson herds us into a sheltered corner by the elevator. I realize now that the small person they have with them is a woman. Her eyes are soft and framed in thick, dark lashes. But she doesn’t look like Holland, who had pale skin and light blue eyes. I wonder where she is?

“It means you’re lucky,” Riley says.

“Luck isn’t a thing,” the woman pipes up. “It’s a human construct made to help us feel better about the unpredictability of life.”

“Yeah, I meant that sarcastically, Rachel.” Riley snorts. “It means I paid a lot of money so he could have the first weapon.” Riley’s gaze softens as she looks at the woman.

The first weapon? My head spins. I suck in breath after breath. So I wasn’t being dramatic. This is real. A real knife bigger than my hand.

“Chin up, fourteen.” Riley pats me on the back. “You’re fighting for true love. All you have to do is get rid of the thing that stands between you and your woman.”

I have a sick feeling that getting rid of means more than it normally does. My stomach heaves.

“No one fights for love anymore. You are one of the few people who will.” Riley’s voice is light. “And don’t take that as a compliment. I think you’re either exceptionally stupid or you have serious mommy issues. Both are equally entertaining. But you’re here now.”

“Go.” Manson is pushing us in the elevator again, and as I feel it lurch under my feet, I think I might throw up.

“No one will touch you before tonight, now that we’ve claimed you. You’re welcome,” Riley says. “Just do me a favor and stay alive till then, yeah? I’m bored, and you’re a train wreck. It’s perfect.”

I think the elevator doors ding open, and the others shuffle out. I’m focused on keeping the vomit inside.

“Wait,” I say, stumbling, my voice rising in panic. “This is a mistake. I’m not supposed to be here.”

For a second, the three freeze. Manson glances around. His voice lowers. “Shut the fuck up.”

But I can’t. The panic is bubbling in my chest, and it has to go somewhere. Anywhere. I rip the mask off. “I’m not supposed to be here. I don’t even know where here is! I don’t want to play the game. I want to go home.”

It feels like I can’t get a breath.

Suddenly, Riley is in my face. She’s grinning again. The grin that shows too many teeth. “No one leaves the game, Fourteen. Not till it’s over.”

I heave, trying to keep the panic at bay. I have to leave. I have to. I have to go home. “I’m not supposed to be here.”

Riley’s expression turns deadly. “And yet, here you are.” She shoves my shoulder, hard. “Don’t embarrass me, fourteen. And keep that mistake shit to yourself. If you sound too much like prey, they’ll turn you into it. Play the game, or it’ll play you.”

And then, they’re gone.

CHAPTER TWELVE