Ricochet - Candice M. Wright Page 0,25

to her box. Even the internet access I had was heavily restricted and monitored. But once I was free, I felt liberated in a way, gorging myself on anything and everything until my eyes would blur, and my head felt like it would explode.

I don’t share this though, because playing dumb right now can only work in my favor.

As the hallway opens up, it becomes light enough to see we’re not alone.

As much as I would love to look up and gaze at the stars, I keep my eyes on the players in the room, each person a potential victim or victor and all of them stand between me getting to hug Wyatt and Megan again or my blood spilling out on the floor.

I wonder if once upon a time, this place was filled with seats where children sat gazing at the stars in rapture. Now the only seat I see is the one at the head of the room where Zodiac sits watching everyone with his cold, calculating stare. I feel Reid step around me, and without a word, he takes a spot near Zodiac with his hands clasped behind his back, and his head bowed. The others dressed in the same black suits and white shirts follow and form a sort of oval shape, leaving me on the fringe and four others dressed in street clothes similar to mine.

“Welcome initiates.” Zodiac’s voice echoes around the dim room. “For those of you who don’t know me, I am Zodiac, and these are the ten heads of the divisions within this city,” he announces.

I look around the other division heads and see them all standing in a similar pose to Reid, hands clasped behind their backs, heads bowed. I can’t guesstimate their ages without looking at their faces, but I can see they are all fit and muscular like Reid is, and none of them look shorter than six feet tall.

I look like the token virgin sacrifice compared to these lot; even the other initiates tower over my short frame.

I narrow my eyes, wondering if that’s precisely what I’m here for. Some kind of gang initiation where I end up raped and with my throat slit.

Slipping my hand into my pocket I grip my knife, running my eyes over who I think is the biggest threat, but I know the only way to cause any kind of chaos will be to cut off the head of the snake. Without taking my eyes from Zodiac, I move into the center on the oval. The four other initiates eye me shrewdly before following me until we’re all grouped together in our own circle within the division head’s oval.

“Two of you will become division heads. You’ll have your own sectors to run, and you’ll answer to me directly. You’ll be paid to live like kings and queens,” he says with a dip of his head acknowledging me, which of course, draws everyone else’s eyes to me too.

Asshole.

“Let’s begin, shall we? You might want to fan out a little,” he laughs, obviously knowing what’s coming. I’ve never been more grateful than I am right now that fear doesn’t affect me like it does others, at least not in the same way it used to. I’d have likely puked everywhere by now or passed out, so thank God for small blessings.

Feeling more eyes on me, I look around and see the division heads watching me too. Some with curiosity, some with lust, and a couple look like they would love nothing more than to run me through with a knife. I ignore them all, glancing at Reid, who offers me a small discreet nod, which I guess means I’ve got this. Fuck, I hope he’s right.

The smell of sweat, fear, and anticipation taints the room, so I fill my lungs with it and use it to fuel me. I know what’s at stake here and what’s that saying? I didn’t come this far, just to come this far. I twist my neck, feeling it crack and make my body loose and ready.

“When I tell you to fight, you’ll fight each other,” Zodiac announces.

I blow out a breath. Great, just great. It’s like David and Goliath.

“You’ll fight until only one remains standing. One initiate, however, will be given immunity from the test. They will automatically move on to the next round, along with the last person standing.” The others whisper to each other before turning to me.

Great, it looks like I’m going to be everyone’s first

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