Page 130 of Wallflower

“When you went limp it reminded me how the same happened to me, and why.”

“Your dick went limp too? When?”

“Fuck sakes,” I groan, falling back into the mattress.

Well at least he’s making a joke, I suppose.

He crawls onto the mattress, lying next to me with his head on my abdomen. My fingers absentmindedly comb through his hair, twirling it around my finger while my gaze diverts to the bedside table, the dried monkshood sitting atop it. “I only want you to trust me. Let me in, just a little bit.” He has, but in the smallest of ways. I assumed it was because we were being monitored and he didn’t want Maximus gaining information on him, so I never pushed. It’s different now though. This is his home, he should feel safe here.

I can only feel that the issue is me.

I understand I have more faith in him because of our situation, and I’ll need to find a way to have him feel the same security I do.

“I’ve had a rough life,” he murmurs, and I still.Holy shit.

His fingers tickle across my skin, head slightly shaking to encourage mine to keep moving.

“When she took from me, broke my rules, she became no better than any other person. And it sucks because she’s Bucky’s sister.”

I suspected it, basically validated it in my own mind, but hearing it confirmed from his own lips, in the defeated cadence of his usually strong voice, makes me so fucking angry I could strangle her right here and now.

“Ow, Rose. Let go!”

His hand taps mine, threaded through his shaggy hair and fisted tight in rage.

“Sorry.” I fake a laugh. Looking back to the flowers, I can’t think of a more fitting death for the bitch who raped my saviour. His heart probably stalls in a panic every time he sees her, reliving whatever the hell she did to him. She deserves to have hers race in a panic before it stops in her chest, and she drops like a steaming pile of shit from a horse’s ass.

Just a simple heart attack, such a shame for someone so young and fit.

“Flower?” he murmurs, placing a soft kiss to my abdomen.

“Hmm?”

“What’s love feel like?”

The question raises so many of my own that I don’t dare voice. The silence lingers while I think of a response. I love my sister dearly, and my father too, I suppose, despite how much of a dick he can be. I’m sure I adored my mother as any child would, but I don’t remember enough to recall the feelings she would have brought forth with her presence. “I don’t know.” My answer is honest. I can’t recount any previous relationship that measures up to this one, and the things Rip makes me feel.

“Me either.”

Fingers trace along my skin, drawing me from sleep. “Wake up, Rose,” Rip whispers, as his lips graze over my shoulder.

I groan, rolling to the other side of the mattress.

Ripley tears away the sheet, cold air sweeping in. “Come with me.” His words are pleading, not demanding, and that pulls me from sleep quicker than the chill shivering through me.

“Where are we going?” I murmur, trying to find the strength to leave the first place I’ve felt safe since I was a child. Home wasn’t safe after Michelle and Tyler moved in. It was a never ending panic of walking too loudly on eggshells.

“Not far, come on. Get up, get dressed.”

“In what? I have no clothes.”

“Well, that’s not true.”

“Did you happen to get a hold of my luggage from the cruise ship? Or did you steal some of my panties after your murder spree?”

“Fuck. I should have done that,” he jokes, as a pile of soft fabric smacks me in the face.

“As much as I love wearing your clothes, your pants are not going to fit me.”