Page 176 of Wallflower

The front door bangs open, causing everyone in this room to tense up in fear-laced anticipation. Whoever that is, is going to walk up on a stand-off they are in no way prepared for, and possibly die for it if Karson’s a trigger happy motherfucker.

“Rip! I was fucking right! She was poisoned!” Bucky’s footsteps race down the hallway.

Fuck.

“Ripley?” he calls.

Rip turns his head, eyes filled with concern as they flick from me to where Bucky will appear in a matter of seconds.

Without thinking, I quickly move to block Bucky’s path. Karson swings the gun from Rip to his nerdy friend, auburn mullet coming into view as he rounds the corner. Bucky freezes in place, not knowing how to handle what’s happening.

Ripley moves faster than my mind can follow. He grabs onto the handle of the whistling kettle, chucking it at Karson.

The screaming hot container collides with his chest, sloshing boiling water everywhere, as a shot rings out. I spear my body into Bucky’s, tackling him to the ground, air huffing out of me on impact. In his fist, he holds the full toxicology report. Shantel’s bloodwork highlighted, showing faint traces of aconite exposure. Lucky for me, those plants grow on Bleakcrest’s grounds, andshe could’ve come into contact with them accidentally. Bucky will never have to know the secret Ripley keeps from him.

Of course, when I go, Ripley could come clean then.

Maybe by saving Bucky’s life, I’ve atoned for the death of his sister, and the shady fucking butler who’s yet to be discovered.

Karson falls back, writhing in agony as the scalding water burns his skin. The antique copper kettle I got for Rose clangs against the stone floor, tinkling as I kick it out of my way. Slowly, I advance upon a scrambling Karson, calling out to the others, “You guys okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky grunts.

Dropping to a knee next to Karson, I grab him by the shirt, and drive my fist into his stupid fucking face. “You think you can come into my house? Threaten my woman, and everything she fought for? For what? Her sister who didn’t care enough about her to protect her?Her!” I scream, spit flinging, as my knuckles connect with his jaw. “She’s the most selfless person on the planet, sacrificing herself for that poor excuse of afamily member.” The cracking of his teeth is like a fuse lit by my vengeance, quickly barreling toward an explosion that could consume us all.

I pick the kettle up by its partially broken handle, the metal still hot enough to hurt. Slamming it into his face, I hold it in place as his skin singes beneath the metal. His screams are a melody I’ll play on repeat.

If I do anything right in this life, let it be this.

I rip the kettle away, Karson’s epidermis going with it, stuck to the side of the copper. Releasing his shirt, he flops to the ground.

Unfortunately for him, I’m not done.

Grabbing a hold of his mop of sandy hair, I crane his head back. Slowly, I pour the remains of the hot water down his throat. Enjoying the gurgling of his inability to breathe far too much.

Chelsea races toward me, dropping to her knees with a slide.

“Get the fuck away from me, or I’ll kill you too,“ I snarl.

Karson incoherently waves his hands in surrender. “Stop,” Chelsea whimpers, “please. We’ll leave.”

“The only place you two are going is out to sea, when I fucking sink you to the bottom of it.”

She flinches, but holds her ground. “I’m sorry.”

Karson sputters in my hold, bloody spit peppering my face. “You’re sorry?” I scoff. “For what, exactly?”

Chelsea opens her mouth, about to spill some bullshit, but snaps it shut when I drop Karson’s barely conscious body to the dark floor. “Rose!” I call out, noticing I haven’t heard her voice in far too long. “I don’t give a fuck that you’re sorry.” I snarl at the sorry excuse for a sister. Spinning on the spot, I inquire, “Rose?”

I watch from across the room as Bucky shakes Rose’s shoulders, trying to wake her.

“Keep him alive, so I can kill him again,” I growl at the whole reason for this mess.

Panic takes hold, and I scramble across the stone to reach my friend who’s got his fingers pressed to Rose’s neck.

“How?” Chelsea calls after me.

“Figure it the fuck out!” I reply.