Page 185 of Wallflower

The blade slices through the man’s shirt with ease, and I use the material to secure the bandage on my thigh in place. Wrapping it twice and knotting it tight.

Slowly, I get to my feet, placing the throwing knife back in the sheath strapped to my uninjured thigh. Shifting my weight, and testing my limits, my leg aches and burns, a deep throb ricocheting down the muscle, but I’ll live.

I retrieve the blade from the dead man’s neck, sliding it into the holster next to the other one. I could replace the knife that sunk to the briny deep alongside my brother, but the missing piece is better served as a reminder as to why he’s there, and everything I gave up to have Rose back at my side.

He’s the missing piece I’ll never get back.

Dragging the man’s corpse to the edge of the deck, I kick it over the side. His dead weight splashes into the ocean below, disappearing beneath the waves, and I move across the deck to a map posted on the wall.

Rose told me Sam approached her during dinner, but he and Brad apprehended her and Chelsea sometime after that. They left a dance party…or something?

The details are fuzzy, but there. Not floating away like blood in the water as most dreams often do.

If Sam and Brad’s recounting in the grocery store parking lot is to be believed, then I should be able to intercept Sam before he gets his hands on my flower again.

Pulling off my mask, I take off in the direction of the dining hall to do just that.

From a darkened corner, I cast my sights around the room. Slowly observing every face while on the hunt for my intended target.

Sam isn’t here yet, but Rose’s family sits at a table not too far off from the bar, sticking out like an erection in a circle jerk of flaccid cocks.

As Brad said before, Patrick’s asleep in his chair, head back, mouth hanging open, a half-consumed martini on the table. His billowy, bright-coloured shirt draws attention in a room full of neutrals. Michelle, the step-monster, glitters like a disco ball in the warm light, literally outshining her husband in a silver sequins minidress. Her eyes are glued to a younger man across the room, an air of infidelity swirling around her.

That, I can use to my advantage.

Tyler and Liam rise from their seats, making their way to the restroom. Their bright red, matchingDrunk 1andDrunk 2tank tops are easy to spot as they cross the room.

I should really clean myself up if I’m going to meet my flower’s family again.I wait a beat, then follow the duo.

Stepping into the bathroom a few steps behind them has me pausing.

There are three stalls.

However, only one door showcases the red ‘Occupied’ label.

Then I hear it.

The sloppy slurping noise. It echoes around the barren bathroom, snaking into my ears as a moan sounds from the largest stall.

You’vegotto be kidding me.

I fight every driving urge in me screaming to turn around and leave. Instead, I kick the door open.

The flimsy lock gives away without much of a fight, the broken pieces clattering to the ground as the metal door bangs open, slamming into the wall.

Liam’s seated on the toilet, shorts around his ankles, and Tyler’s on his knees before him, cock shoved so far down his throat his face is turning blue.

From all that Rose divulged, I would have expected Tyler to be the one getting serviced.

Not that it actually fucking matters.

Liam shoves a gasping Tyler off his cock. “What the fuck?” he shouts, standing to right his pants.

Well, that won’t do. He’s going to attract attention.

“I just wanted to join in on the fun, guys. You interested in a third?”

Liam looks to Tyler, clearly interested in my offer, but his friend’s returning scowl is answer enough.