Page 81 of Wallflower

He lets his words hang in the air, waiting for objections that are sure not to come. I know they’ll bend to any one’s will, if only to protect their fellow comrades and friends. Lonnie was new, still finding her place in the squad I keep. She’ll be missed, but her death won’t cripple us.

“Move out!” he snaps. His squad circles my own, leading them from the shipping container.

Richmond steps to me, only a few hairs taller. “I trust you’ll take care of this mess? Since she was one of yours.”

“Don’t want to take her back to your hovel and string her up?” The words needed to bolster this mask I wear leave the tang of self-loathing thick on my tongue.Whatever it takes to complete the mission, I remind myself. Though, the repeated mantra doesn’t lift the weight of regret.

“No, Mr. Morgan. I prefer them breathing. Screaming. Bleeding. Just like your little whore did for me.”

Fuck, I want to pummel his face. I know he’s waiting for it. But I won’t jeopardize all of this for her, to protect her honour, when what he says is true.

“She may have screamed for you and that knife of yours, but she’ll cry for me.”

I think I’ve got him. No rebuttal for him to toss my way.

But he chuffs. “Oh, how little you really know.”

“What do you mean by that?” I try to remain neutral, fighting to keep the ire from my voice. “What don’t I know?” All I can think of is Reid, and how he wouldn’t tell me shit either. Nothing but cryptic messages and half-truths.

“You’ll see. All in due time.”

“Richmond,” I growl, low and guttural.

“Have a good night, Mr. Morgan. I’ll be seeing you.”

With that, he disappears through the gap in the doorway. Leaving me alone with my few guards and Lonnie’s rapidly cooling body.

She deserved much better than this—than getting wrapped up with me.

Sleep refuses to find me.

Despite the long shower I took to wash away the blood, and ease my tense muscles, rest is as elusive as the peace I search for when I’m not with Rose. The events of the day run a never-ending triathlon through my mind.

Rose. Lonnie. Richmond.

My flower. My team. My plan.

My girl. My friends. My nemesis.

Fuck.

Why won’t it end?

The guilt weighs in once more. For what transpired tonight. And how in the midst of it, Rose was there. Arms wide, welcoming me in, granting me solace in my time of need. Evenwhen I deserve to feel the weight of this to its full magnitude, it pales in comparison to the space she’s taking up. Pushing out everything with her presence.

I can’t trust it.

But gods, I want her.

Ineedher.

My escape I’m unworthy of.

But not yet.

I drag my hands through my hair, forcing my fingers past the knots tangling the small curls together, trying to think of anything to occupy my time. No ideas surface, and the shit eating me from the inside out threatens to drive me to insanity.

To hell with all of this.