Every surface is spotless, almost obsessively so. But I’m just as neat. I have a need to control chaos.
My gaze snags on an open hall closet. Shovels, trowels, and gloves are stacked and look ready for a project.
“Are you planning to bury me in your garden?” I ask, half-joking.
Her lips twitch. “You’ll be in good company.”
Suddenly, it makes sense. She grows her love in that community garden around the corner. It’s her cathedral. Her safe space. And she considers me holy enough to be a part of it.
Then I see a dozen pill bottles lined up on a nightstand. My gut turns.
Oh fuck.
I march over because if she can snoop in my flat, I can snoop right back. I pick one and read the label. Then another one.
Straterra. For ADHD
Somniprax. For insomnia.
Her face twists when she sees me looking at the pill bottles. “I’m supposed to take them all every day.”
A cold knot forms in my gut. “Doyou take them every day?”
She shakes her head, guilt flickering across her face.
I don’t know what the hell is going on here, but something isn’t right. No one has this many prescriptions unless there’s a story behind it. And Fallon looks terrified to open up to me about it.
Rage flares in my chest. Not at the pills, but at the way she shrinks, like she’ll be punished for telling me the truth.
Someone has her scared. That’s enough for me to want blood.
Someone is trying to drug her into compliance. White-hot rage makes me forget that I just killed a man in front of her. I now want to murder whoever is making her take these and let her watch.
Heck, let her hit the guy with the shovel as the first strike and then help me bury him.
Only, that’s not rational.
“Why don’t you take them every day?” I ask, trying to understand. See all the angles.
“They make me feel…funny.” She sounds small, and I hate it.
I like her better, larger than life, bossing me around like a girlfriend. But when I consider the sedative Somniprax is useful right now, I become that horrible person. Sheneeds to sleep, and with her passed out, I’ll have time to deal with my mess next door.
“You should take this one,” I say quietly. “It’ll help you rest while I clean up.”
She studies me, searching for my motive. Then she nods in such a trusting way, I want to scream.
With a thermos of water on the nightstand next to the pharmacy I plan to burn down, Fallon pops the pill and swallows it, her throat working delicately.
I guide her toward the bed, but she pauses.
“What?” I ask her gently.
“I have to get undressed.” She slips her shirt off her shoulders without hesitation or shame.
Next, the bra is gone, and so are the pants. Fallon stands there topless in pink bikini panties.
Her creamy skin glows from the amber lamp light in the living room. Her breasts are small with erect pink nipples. Goosebumps start to appear all over her skin. She’s got an hourglass waist and shapely thighs that would look amazing wrapped around my hips while I fuck her.
