Page 187 of Wallflower

I’ll make her believe what I experienced was real.

I’ll make her love me.

I didn’t abstain from love for the entirety of my life only to utter it to someone who doesn’t fucking exist.

Brad was here. Her family’s on board. She must be too.

I’ll find her soon enough.

But first, I have a job to finish.

Rolling my shoulders, I shake out the tension, the anticipation. It makes me erratic, sloppy. I need my head on straight before I lure the biggest thorn in Rose’s side away from the crowded room.

When I step out, the lights have dimmed slightly, and the workers are moving tables. Across the room, in a darkened corner, stands Michelle, intricately entwined with someone who isn’t her husband.

Moving like a spectre through the room, I weave between workers on my way to Patrick.

I lay my palm on his shoulder, leaning over as he rouses slightly. “I hate to bother you, sir, but may I confirm your room number? You’re the winner of the boarding day contest, and we need to deliver your prize.”

In his half-awake state, he doesn’t question me. “437,” he responds, clearing his throat.

“Thank you, Mr. Melborne.”

“Mhmm,” he murmurs, drifting back into sleep. The sediment lingering in the bottom of his glass proves my theory on my brother true. He did drug Patrick to make extracting his daughters that much easier.

Rose’s father doesn’t stir when I thrust my push dagger into the base of his skull, twisting to sever his cervical spine.

Hopefully, it will be a while before anyone notices him.

Looking back to the darkened corner, Michelle has vanished.

Fuck.

My eyes fly across the room, searching for any glint of her silver sequins dress, or the back of the red-shirted figure whose tongue she was sucking on.

The main door of the dining room is slowly closing, but as the DJ checks his strobe light one more time, a sparkling of something catches my eye, just as it slips through the crack and the heavy wooden door seals shut.

Following at a safe distance, I trail Michelle and the poor fool hoping for a quick fuck. It’s not his fault he doesn’t know what an evil bitch she is.

They stop down the hall, standing before a door that readsStaff Only. The man turns, observing Rose’s step-monster with a devouring blue gaze. Malice and rage flood my bloodstream, and it takes every ounce of quickly dissolving willpower for me to keep my steps casual.

Sam turns the doorknob as I pass, pulling Michelle into the darkened room with a sly smile on his face.

Before the door snicks shut, my booted foot stops it.

Leaning against the wall, I pull my phone from the zippered pocket below the stab wound on my thigh. My breaths arehushed, measured, as I pretend to scroll on the device in my hand. However, I’m straining to hear any sound coming from the staff room.

Eventually, the hurried breaths and muffled moans of fornication can be heard. My body becomes a live wire as I slip as silently as possible into the room. Pulling the mask from my pocket, I slip it back on as the door closes, and I lock it.

Michelle’s eyes widen in shock when she catches my form moving into the room. In nothing but the moonlight streaming through the circular windows, the room is dim, shadows and darkened corners everywhere.

I dip in and out of the darkness as she attempts to dislodge Sam’s hand from over her mouth. But he’s focused on the finish line, and how quickly he can get there.

A dart board hangs on the wall, and I make my way toward it. Michelle keens a fearful wail, and Sam groans in response.

I lift my finger to my covered lips, gesturing for her toshhhwithout making a sound.

Pulling three darts free of the board, and grabbing the other three that sit waiting for a new game, I spin to face to duo fucking against the far wall.