Page 46 of Wallflower

I don’t know if it’s from fear or respect.

Either way, they end up dead.

I guess Rip’s methods are worse than anything Richmond can come up with, and that’s…unsettling.

Returning to Rose’s cell with a bottle of water in hand, I open the door. “Brad? Is that you?” She hangs there gloriously naked, but battered and bleeding. No way Brad did all of this to her, he didn’t have the time. “Do whatever you want to me, just leave Chelsea alone.” Oh, my sweet, pretty girl. Trying to protect her sister, even now. Little does she know, there’s nothing she could do now to keep her sister safe.

“So Brad got here before me, did he?”

Her spine snaps to attention at the sound of my voice, pert ass bouncing. “Sam?”

“Yeah, pretty girl, it’s me.” I softly reply. A glow lights up inside my chest because she already knows the sound of my voice. “Who did you piss off to get thrown down here?”

“I don’t know,” she rasps, “probably everyone.”

Moving quickly, I round to her front. The sight before me wipes the reflection I was observing from my mind. The real thing is so much worse. “Couldn’t behave for a few hours, Rosie?”

“They took Chelsea away, I felt cornered. I-I’m sorry.”

I can understand that. Despite knowing what you should do, your body reacts of its own accord. Twisting the top off the water, I lift it to her lips. “Slow, Rosie. Don’t spill any.” Like a good girl she complies, draining the bottle.

“Do you know where Chelsea is?”

“No, unfortunately, I don’t.”

“Then why are you here? Brad’s going to hurt her. Please, go stop him.”

“Rosie, I need you to listen to me.” Her hazel eyes finally open, rocking me to the core with the myriad of colours in their depths. “You’ve been promised to someone else.” She nods. “You know?”

“Mhmm. He was brought in mid-playtime with the ghostly fuck.” There she is, brandishing that sharp tongue I can’t wait to feel against my sack again. Glad to see her spark hasn’t gone out.

“I’ve been forbidden from seeing you.” The words burn like acid, but she has to know I won’t be around as much. Rose’s eyes widen, fear taking root. “It’s not going to stop me, but I’ll be spending my time planning our escape. I’ve been put on house arrest. Your father is causing quite the uproar.”

Hope replaces the fear in her eyes, the energy around her charging in an uncomfortable way.

“He needs to stop, Rosie. If he gets too close, Maximus will kill him without hesitation.”

Fuck, I want to kiss her. Press those blood covered lips to mine and hear her moan against me.

“But if he’s looking…”

“It means he isn’t the one who sold you,” I say, finishing her thought.

She nods. “Chelsea…”

“I’ll figure out what I can.”

“Thank you,” she breathes.

I cup her cheeks, the blood flaking off them peppers my skin. I don’t care. I’d bottle it and keep it for witchcraft if I believed in that shit.

Gently, I press my starving lips to hers, swallowing her sigh of satisfaction. Delicately she follows my lead, giving me what I need until I can see her again. My hands have a mind of their own, travelling down her curves. She whimpers in pain when my fingers curl into her hips, holding her firm against me.

I can taste her on my tongue, the metallic tang slides down my throat as I part our lips. “Sorry if I hurt you. I lose control when you’re near.”

“It’s okay. Everything hurts, but it’s worth it.”

What she leaves unsaid is that I’m worth it. That she’d suffer the pain to have my kiss—my touch.