Page 174 of Wallflower

Her words are cut off as Ripley bellows from upstairs, drowning out the still-whistling kettle. “Rose!”

Chelsea’s grip on me seems to stiffen, watery eyes turning wary—cold.

“Rose!” he calls again.

Chelsea slowly releases me, blocking my path out of the room. I take a step back. “Yeah?” I call out.

“Everything okay?” There’s a slight waver in his voice, something I’ve only heard once before.

In a cell.

Something’s wrong.

“Absolutely!” I cheerfully respond, and Chelsea relaxes.

In that fraction of a second where she’s not as alert, I dart around her, and thunder up the stairs.

She’s hot on my ass, shouting my name. “Wait! Rose, stop! Please, just wait!”

My sock feet slip as I skid to a stop, colliding with the kitchen island. Fear unlike anything I’ve ever known digs its roots into my bones, stretching far and wide to feast on the marrow that lies within.

“Long time no see, Rosie,” Karson says casually.

This interaction is anything but nonchalant as the gun he’s brandishing points at Ripley.

He stands there, arms raised in surrender, relief coming over his stoic face when he sees I’m unharmed.

Looking over my head, his gaze turns sharp, lethal.

Chelsea’s arm bands around my middle, applying light pressure as a way to guide me away.

“Don’t touch me,” I spit, stepping out of her reach. “What the hell are you doing? Karson, put that down!”

“Not a chance. Not until we’re out of here.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I scoff.

Sidling up beside me, Chelsea tries again to lead me away from Ripley by placing her hands on my shoulders. “We’re here to save you. Take you home. Come on, Rose, before things get out of hand.” Her voice is calm, quiet, patient. Like she’s coaxing an injured animal into a crate.

“Save me? What are you talking about?” Looking to Rip, I snap, “He saved me, and this is my home.” I move out of her grip, taking a few steps to infuse some distance. “Where the fuck were you when shit hit the fan?”

Ripley smiles at my words. While I’m sure he loves hearing them, I’m trying to de-escalate the situation before he kills Karson for having a gun anywhere near me.

“Karson got me out.”

“When?” I growl.

“That doesn’t matter.”

“How fucking long were you there?”

Chelsea’s eyes dart around the room, her shame permeating the air around us. She gulps, loud and forced. “A few days.”

I whirl on her, cracking my hand off her face as red floods my sight. “You fucking bitch! A few days? How?”

Chelsea holds her scarlet cheek in her hand, eyes flicking to Karson.

Whipping my head in his direction, I scowl. “You lied to me? That whole fucking time she was with you, and you made me believe she was in the same situation as me.”