Page 116 of Wallflower

What happened?

There’s a scrap of material wrapped around his calf, tied tight, though doing little to stop the flow, it seems.

My eyes dart from his wound to his eyes, back and forth enough times that he picks up on my concern.

“Later, baby.”

I garble a frustrated scream, and he laughs.

“I’m fine. Carry on.”

I huff, annoyed.

Turning inward, I gather up all my strength. I hang my head, chin briefly touching my chest. Then I fling my head back with all my strength, driving the back of my skull into Sam’s stupid face.

His hand is ripped from my hair as he loses his balance, falling backward onto the floor, nose crooked and leaking a river of blood.

Rip’s on him faster than I can blink, driving his fist into Sam’s cheek.

I scream and kick at him, trying to get his attention.

“What, Rose?” he snaps, whirling on me.

I have a better plan for Sam before I kill him, something that will drive him to the point of madness. I shimmy my shoulders, jiggling my tits, trying to convey what I want him to do without words.

I wiggle my hips, turning around and shaking my ass like an idiot.

“Rose…”

I spin back to him. His hand is poised to drive into Sam’s jaw, other fist cinched tight in his shirt, holding him steady.

“You’re not serious?”

Oh, I’m dead fucking serious.

I nod, tilting my head in acome heremotion. Rip slams his fist into Sam’s face once more, kicking him in the ribs for good measure before advancing on me.

“You’re sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”

The words make my heart beat faster, but I roll my eyes.

Rip’s fingers slide down my torso, slipping between my legs. He works me up, soft and slow, turning me so Sam can seeeverything.

“You want to make him watch, flower? Show him how a man with consent can make you fucking scream?”

I nod, humming my agreement, as Ripley’s touch spreads like a comforting warmth across my skin.

With his free hand, Ripley dips into his pocket, pulling out a switch blade. “Let’s get the binding’s off you, hmm?”

I nod. “Hold still.”

Rip slips the blade under the thread, sawing slowly through the fibres.

“You fucking piece of shit,” he snarls, whirling on Sam who’s trying hard to hide a snicker.

“Those won’t be coming off that easily,” he glowers.

“Can I stab him, flower?”