Page 171 of Wallflower

“You don’t think? Well, that’s reassuring.”

“The weight of everything is crushing, I wanted to not feel it.”

“Couldn’t come to me for help?”

“I didn’t need to, you were already there.”

“Sorry for fucking caring.”

“No, shut up, fuck. Stop taking what I say the wrong way.”

Staying silent, I gesture with my hand for her toplease, continue.

“I didn’t need to turn to you for comfort, because you were already there. Forever chasing away the negativity wrapped around me like a noose.”

Her words settle over me, the flogger falling to the floor. My eyes rove over her abused skin, nausea barrelling up my gullet.

I dart across the room, ripping the mask from my face. It drops to the floor as my knees hit the concrete, guts heaving into a tiny trash can.

I can’t believe I did that to her. I abused her out of anger—fucking beat her because I let my feelings consume me, cloud my judgement.

“Ripley…” she softly calls across the distance between us. “Are you okay?”

Am I okay?I’m not the one with an innumerable amount of welts threatening to bleed.

“Are you?” I rasp in response, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

“I’m fine. Come here,” she pleads.

Rising from the floor, I move back to her, brightening the lights along the way.

“I’m sorry,” I choke out. “I’m so fucking sorry, flower.” Her skin looks so much worse in the light. It brings me no satisfaction, just a suffocating dose of self-loathing.

I raise my hand to undo her binding, but she pulls away. “I’m not done.”

My heart drops to the cold, unforgiving floor, and I half debate crushing it beneath my foot.

Backing away slightly, so I keep my hands to myself, annoyance laces my tone, “What else could you possibly have to tell me?”

She looks away, digging her teeth into her bottom lip.

“You didn’t throw the flowers out, did you?”

Looking back to me, she replies, “No.”

“Where are they?” If she doesn’t tell me, I’ll tear the fucking house apart until I find them, and she can stay tied up here while I do it.

“I’m not going to use them…on myself.”

“Then why do you need them?”

“Protection…revenge.”

“Protection from what, exactly? You have me. If someone dangerous comes after you, you won’t have time to poison them. That’s why I gave you a phone and a gun.”

“I know.”

“Then, what?” Rose’s words register, the path to what she means appearing clearly before me. “What did you do?” A chilling smile spreads across her pillowy lips, as her darkening autumn gaze is unwavering. “Rose?”