Page 118 of Wallflower

My fingers wrap around the grip, feeling the weight of it.

“Slow,” he whispers, "aim, watch for kickback.”

Ripley’s thrusts rival the speed of a tortoise, but I still feel him throbbing, resisting so I can focus.

“Kill him, flower. Have him die knowing you chose me.”

It’s near impossible to pull my eyes away from Ripley to look at the disgusting worm on the floor, but I do, for him.

It’s got to be like throwing a ball right? Look where you want the bullet to go, and it will go there?

Sure, why not?

I point the muzzle the way I think I should, and squeeze the trigger.

A wet sucking sound is made as the bullet descends into Sam’s gut. That’s a little north of what I was aiming for, but for a first shot it wasn’t bad.

“Again,” Ripley growls, pulsing his cock deep within me.

Sam’s either passed out or died from blood loss, not making so much as a sound when the second shot rips into his groin.

“One more,” he breathes, resuming the tempo he previously abandoned.

I barely look where I’m shooting this time, more entranced by the man driving into me at an unforgiving pace. I take aim, looking at Rip while he turns to watch Sam. The corpse’s head flys to the side as the bullet plows through his face, spraying bits of shattered jaw across the floor.

Ripley’s eyes roll back, fingers digging into my ass as he loses control. He drives deep, erupting, as his lips land against my swollen, caged ones.

His breath steadies as his gaze crashes into mine.

“Let’s go home, flower.”

Home.

The word means something else entirely rolling off his tongue.

Gently he places me on my bare feet, making sure I can stand on my own before releasing me completely. He doesn’t ask for the gun back, and honestly, I want to keep it. It’s been so long since I was able to protect myself, now that I can, I don’t want to relinquish the feeling.

He kneels next to Richmond’s body, unzipping the tactical vest, and pulling off the unsoiled shirt. He stands, turning back to me, and sliding the black t-shirt over my head. Without words, he helps me navigate my tired arms through the holes, then slips the heavy vest onto my shoulders.

“I know it’s a lot, but it’s stocked full of weapons in every pocket and bulletproof plates. It will keep you safe.”

What about you?I want to say, looking up to his hardened gaze.

“I’ll be fine. Chances are Reid has this place emptied out, since he’s turned off the fire alarm.”

I furrow my brows.

“Reid is the butler.”

Wait… The place is emptied out? Where is Chelsea? Where would she go?

I heard blips of the conversation while dipping in and out of consciousness. Maximus said she was never here, but that’s a bold-faced lie. I grab Rip’s hand, trying to drag him to the door, panic gripping me like a vice.

“What’s the matter? We don’t have to rush, it’s over.”

I drop his hand, moving toward the door and leaving him behind with a huff.

“Hey!” he calls after me, but I’m slowly leaning out the door, gun in hand, making sure the coast is clear before heading down the hallway.