Page 48 of Role Play (Off the Books #1)

“Or,” Taio interjects, “you could flank him. Three o’clock from your position, there’s a rusted car. If you can make it there, you’ll have a clear shot at whoever’s shooting at you.”

I peer around the edge of my shelter. Sure enough, about fifteen feet away sits a hollowed-out sedan, offering perfect cover and a strategic vantage point.

“No,” Forrest cuts in. “It’s too exposed. Stay put, Sora. I’m coming.”

Something in his tone—a touch too commanding, a hint too controlling—makes my competitive streak flare.

“I’m going for it.”

“Sora, wait?—”

But I’m already moving, darting from my hiding spot in a zigzag pattern like I’ve seen in movies. Paintballs explode around me, miraculously missing as I dive behind the car.

Panting, I peer through the empty window frame and spot my attacker—Jax, perched atop a stack of tires. Without overthinking it, I raise my paintball gun, aim, and squeeze the trigger.

To my utter astonishment, the paintball hits him square in the chest.

“I got one!” I whoop into my mic. “I actually hit him!”

“That’s my girl!” Taio cheers.

My enthusiasm is quickly curbed when I see the paintball didn’t burst. I heard the impact, but there’s no evidence of my shot. “Dang it. The paintball was a dud,” I say defeatedly, watching Jax disappear from his perch, still in the game.

“That’s okay. Still a nice shot, conch shell,” Saylor adds, my nickname giving away the fact that Forrest does indeed talk about me to his friends.

But now, even after my triumphant shot, Forrest is suspiciously silent.

I don’t have time to overthink it because suddenly, I hear footsteps approaching from behind. I spin around, paintball gun raised, only to find Forrest standing there, his own weapon lowered.

“You were supposed to wait for me,” he grits out, voice tight beneath his mask.

“I had an opening.” I shrug. “And it almost worked.” Stupid faulty equipment.

Before he can argue, a barrage of paintballs pelts the car, forcing us both to duck.

“Trevor and Brody, ten o’clock,” Forrest mutters. “We’re surrounded.”

Just then, Taio’s voice crackles through our earpieces. “Saylor’s down. They got him in the back.”

“Bloody cheap shot,” Saylor grumbles.

“Where are you guys?” I ask.

“North corner, by the tower,” Taio says. “Randy’s hunting me.”

“We need to regroup,” Forrest decides. “Sora, stay behind me. We’re going to make a run for the central building.”

I nod, my hands shaking from adrenaline. This is supposed to be just a game, but the fervor in Forrest’s eyes tells me he’s taking the protective hero role very seriously.

We move together through the maze of obstacles, Forrest shielding me with his body at every turn. Despite the bulky gear and masks, there’s something undeniably intimate about the way he keeps me close, his hand occasionally brushing mine.

“Almost there,” he murmurs as the dilapidated central structure comes into view. “Just a few more— Ah! Fuck! ”

A paintball explodes right above his shoulder, the bright blue dusting his protective vest.

“Sniper!” he yells, pushing me behind a concrete barrier. “From the tower!”

I peek around the edge and spot Jax, perched in the watchtower, reloading his weapon.

“It’s Jax,” Forrest confirms. “He’s got the high ground.”

“Dammit,” Taio mutters. “And Trevor and Brody are guarding the entrance to the building. We’re cut off. Any bright ideas?”

Forrest thinks for a moment. “We need a distraction. Something to draw them out of position.”

“I have an idea. Sora, remember how we got separated at the beginning?” Taio asks.

“Yeah?”

“That wasn’t an accident. They’re using a divide-and-conquer strategy. But we can turn it against them.”

“How?” Forrest asks.

“Let them capture Sora.”

“What?” Forrest’s voice rises in disbelief. “No way in hell.”

“Think about it,” Taio continues. “They’ve been targeting her to fuck with you, Hawk. If they ‘capture’ her, they’ll relax and lower their guard. They’ll think they’ve won.”

“And then what?” I ask, oddly intrigued by the plan.

“Then we launch a counterattack while they’re celebrating. Classic Trojan horse.”

“I don’t like it,” Forrest says stubbornly. “Using Sora as bait is exactly what they want.”

“I can handle myself,” I insist. “Besides, isn’t this whole day about the ‘touch her and die’ trope? What better setup than a rescue mission?”

Forrest is quiet for a moment, then sighs. “Fine. But at the first sign of trouble, abort.”

“Not your rodeo anymore, cowboy. I’m taking over the offensive strategy now,” Taio says. “Sora, make it look convincing. Let them capture you and take you to their base in the tower. I’ll be right behind you.”

I take a deep breath. “Okay. Here goes nothing.”

Before Forrest can protest further, I stand up, hands raised, and step out from behind our cover.

“Don’t shoot!” I call out, trying to sound appropriately defeated. “I surrender!”

The paintball field goes quiet for a moment. Then Randy’s voice rings out from the tower: “Well, well. Look who’s all alone.” He gestures to someone out of my sight. “Brody, escort our guest to the tower.”

Brody emerges from behind a barricade, paintball gun trained on me.

“Don’t,” I plead.

“Don’t what?” he grunts.

“Shoot me,” I say. “I’ve never been hit before. Does it hurt really bad?”

The dumbass falls right into the trap. “Aw, is that why you surrendered? You don’t want to get shot? Calm down, Barbie. I’m not going to hurt you.”

I comply, casting one last glance at Forrest’s hiding spot. I can’t see him, but I can practically feel his tension radiating from here.

As Brody marches me toward the tower, I secretly assess my surroundings, noting potential escape routes and cover points. The tower is a three-story structure with a spiral staircase leading to a platform at the top. Randy waits there, looking smugly triumphant as Brody pushes me onto the landing.

“Welcome to our humble fortress,” Randy says with a mock bow. “Where are your friends hiding?”

I shrug innocently. “No idea. We got separated.”

“Right,” he scoffs. “Taio! Forrest!” he hollers out. “We’ve got your girl! Surrender now, and maybe we’ll go easy on you!”

Silence answers him.

“They’re probably regrouping,” Brody suggests.

“Or they abandoned her,” Trevor says, appearing at the top of the stairs. “Not that I blame them. She’s deadweight.”

I bite my tongue, reminding myself it’s just a game and these are boys being boys, but come on. Deadweight? Rude.

“Jax is keeping watch on his perch,” Trevor continues. “No sign of movement.”

Randy nods, satisfied. “Perfect. Once we pick off Taio, Hawk will be easy. He’s too busy worrying about his girlfriend to make any forward moves.” He whirls on me with a condescending smile. “No offense, sweetie, but you’re a liability out there.”

“None taken,” I reply cordially. “But I am curious about one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Do you reserve hotel rooms or are you perfectly comfortable bringing women home to your mama’s basement?”

Trevor snorts with unexpected laughter, which he quickly disguises as a cough when Randy glares at him.

“Funny,” Randy says flatly.

“Oh my god, I was kidding, but it’s true isn’t it?” I cackle mercilessly. “You live with your mom?”

“You won’t be laughing when your team is doing their walk of shame on camera,” Randy sneers.

“Speaking of cameras,” Brody says, pulling out his phone, “let’s document this moment.” He points the camera at me. “Feel free to unclasp those overalls and show a little more skin, honey. We’ll be sending this to your boyfriend.”

He’s lowered his paintball gun to hold his phone. How interesting. Trevor, too, has relaxed his stance, as if I’m clearly not a threat. Even Randy has turned partially away, scanning the field below for signs of Forrest and Taio.

Silly rabbits. Full of tricks today.

In one fluid motion, I drop to the floor, roll, and come up with my weapon aimed squarely at Brody. I fire before he can react, hitting him point-blank in the chest.

“What the—” Randy spins around just as I swing my aim toward him, firing again. The paintball catches him on the shoulder, bright yellow against his black gear.

Trevor raises his weapon, but he’s too slow. My third shot hits him on the mask, temporarily blinding him as paint splatters across his visor.

“Sorry, boys,” I murmur, backing toward the stairs. “Liability, hmm?”

Randy wipes furiously at his shoulder, his face contorted with disbelief. “You conniving little?—”

“I dare you to finish that sentence,” Forrest’s voice booms from behind me. He stands at the top of the stairs, paintball gun raised, Taio right behind him.

“Looks like our damsel rescued herself,” Taio observes with obvious delight.

Randy looks from me to Forrest and back again, his expression slowly morphing from shock to grudging respect. “Well played. But Jax is still out there, and this game isn’t over until?—”

A loud whistle cuts him off. Below, a referee waves a blue flag. “Game over! Home team wins by elimination!”

“What?” Randy rushes to the railing. “That’s impossible.”

“Oh, did I forget to mention, mates?” Saylor’s voice comes through our earpieces, dripping with satisfaction. “I was never really out. Played dead, then circled around and got Jax while you lot were busy with your hostage situation.”

Forrest lifts up his visor, breaking into a wide grin shadowed beneath his helmet, beaming at me.

“Not bad for an ‘afternoon tea at the Ritz’ girl, huh?” I call over my shoulder, breathless from the adrenaline and his proximity.

“Not bad at all,” he agrees, his voice dropping to a lower register that sends a shiver up my spine. He very obviously looks me up and down. “In fact, that was…incredibly sexy.”

Taio clears his throat. “If you two are done having a moment, we have a victory dance to perform and some very public humiliation to witness.”