Page 15 of Wanna Play A Game?

I lean into the counter. “Where’s the map? What are the rules?”

Sawyer opens a drawer and throws down a map. “I figured you’d ask. Nerd.”

I look closer. It’s a topographical map of what looks like…our area?

“What the hell? We never hunt here.” Misgiving creeps in.

Sawyer rolls his eyes. “Calm your tits. When’s the first time a mark has gotten away from us in a game?” He gives me a challenging look.

“Never, but damn! Especially with the cops crawling up our asses?” I groan and rub a hand down my face. “Listen, is he fit? How long can he run? Does he have any survival skills? Because he could conceivably get away.”

Sawyer leans over the island, looking deep into my eyes. “She’s fit.”

Sawyer keeps looking at me. I pause. Wait. Did he say…she?

He raises an eyebrow.

Oh, so this was a joke. I glare at him, huffing a fake laugh. “Stop fucking with me, dude. Not funny.”

“Not a joke.” Sawyer’s face is serious. “Her name is California.”

I laugh for real this time. “Right. Got it.” I push back out of my stool and start to walk away.

Sawyer’s hand clamps over my shoulder and whirls me around. “It’s the woman who called Ryder in, Miles.”

I glare at him. “A woman?”

“Yes.” His smile is manic, and his hair is messy.

I shove him back a step.

“We don’t hunt women, Sawyer.”

He crosses his big arms. “You don’t. Ryder doesn’t.” His face gets serious. “I do.”

A shiver of fear runs through me. “What the hell? No, you don’t!”

I’ve hunted with these men for years. I know their styles and kill patterns. At least, as best as I can know Sawyer and his off-the-wall decisions. He’s been acting off for a few weeks, but maybe now he’s truly lost it.

I lower my voice, “Are you good?”

Sawyer’s face darkens, and he scratches his arm unconsciously. “She’s the one who betrayed Ryder!”

My mom’s bruised face pops into my head. I shake my head to clear it. “Okay? But that’s a hard limit, Sawyer. I don’t hurt women. Period.” He can’t be for real. Sawyer knows my past.

I roughly start cleaning up the disaster in the kitchen. If I don’t do something, I might have to think about the fact that this might be real. And this can’t be real.

“I didn’t say you had to kill her,” Sawyer says.

“That’s what hunt means, asshole.” I turn off the burner, throwing dishes into the sink.

His voice gets low and dangerous, “Are you forgetting that you don’t get to say no to me?”

I whirl on him, going nose-to-nose with him. We’re almost the same height, although I’m a little heavier than him. I glare into his hard eyes. “Hard. Limit. Asshole. I said no.”

He leans back with a shrug. “Well, that’s too bad. Because she’s in the basement right now.”

Chapter 8