Page 69 of Wallflower

I’ve been on my own for such a long time. I didn’t think about how hard it would be, being cut off from my team. The worry didn’t even register. But there’s a difference between being alone and being lonely.

With a few taps of my finger, I raise the phone to my ear again. Hopefully, Kyle isn’t as rule-abiding as Bucky, and I can convince him to sneak out.

The call rings on and on, eventually clicking to voice mail. I hang up.

Huffing, I fall back to the mattress. That was a stupid thought to cling to, he has my fucking face. I can’t be seen with him. I fire off a text instead, before I can talk myself out of it.

Rip:

Want to go a few rounds later?

I wait for his reply, but nothing comes. Surely, he can’t be that busy. He’s running things for me, but I’m still doing most of the heavy lifting where the business is concerned.

Once more, Rose slithers her way into my thoughts.

Fuck it.

Picking up the room phone’s receiver, I call the front desk, requesting a list of items be sent up.

“Uh, sir. We don’t have some of those things on hand.”

“Can you take a break and fetch them for me? I’ll pay triple whatever it costs you.”

Her voice wavers. “I don’t think we’re allowed to do that.”

“How much will it take? Five times the amount? Six?”

“One moment.”

Got her.“Sure, take your time.”

While I wait, I plan out my afternoon. I can’t stay long since the hand-off is tonight, but I’ve got enough time to work some magic and show Rose what it means to be mine.

Karson strides into my room, a flash of black, with the backwards hat on as always, fresh clothes and linens in hand. I can only assume that means Mr. Morgan is on his way. Placing the book I was reading upon the nightstand, I rise from the chair to meet him halfway as I remove the tensor bandage I now wear on my healing wrist.

My mouth doesn’t move, but my eyes say it all. Begging, pleading, screaming, for anything he’s willing to tell me about Chelsea.

Are my nightly submissions to Brad really keeping him away from her?

Karson turns his back to the camera. “She’s fine, Rose,” he whispers. “Let’s get you dressed.”

It’s the same phrase I’ve heard every day, multiple times. When he checks in, brings me a meal, or I ring the bell for something and he appears. It’s growing tiresome. Even if he cares about her, he can give me more than ‘fine’.

“What’s that mean?” I snap quietly, placing the bandage on the dresser. “All she ever is, is fine. She’s my fucking sister, Karson. Tell me more.”

“Will you keep your voice down?” His tone is hushed, but stern. “I’m doing what I can to keep her safe, but there’s things I can’t do to stop the bigger wheel in motion.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“There are clients with more pull than me. I can’t get her out of her meetings with them, I’ve tried.”

Nausea pools in my gut. “Is anyone hurting her?” I riskily ask. Karson can’t know about Brad. But, if he’s visiting with my sister in Karson’s absence, all I’m enduring will be for nothing.

Not that I can do anything about it.

I know I’m foolish for putting so much faith in Brad and his word, but I’m holding onto the hope I can sway Mr. Morgan into purchasing my sister in exchange for my unending gratitude. Whatever that may be in his eyes. Especially, since he doesn’t have to pay for me if this deal he mentioned works out. He’s clearly got the money, right? Or he wouldn’t be here.

“No one’s beating her, if that’s what you mean,” Karson replies.