Page 5 of Savage Little Secret

“Do you have it?” I ask him as I glance around, making sure no one else is around.

“Of course,” Kyle replies as he takes out a tiny baggie with a white capsule inside. Just one. “You know, you’re the first buyer in a while that’s wanted some of this. You’re lucky I keep some in stock.”

People aren’t afraid of violent, messy murders around here.

“Here’s the cash,” I tell him as I hand him the rolled-up wad. This wasn’t a cheap purchase, but it’s not like the money matters to me anymore. What Dmitri gave me all feels…tainted.

Kyle takes the money and pockets it before lifting an eyebrow at me. “Are you down in the dumps or did someone piss you off?”

“Don’t worry about it. And don’t say a word of this to anyone,” I warn him as I stuff the baggie in the back pocket of my jeans.

“I shouldn’t be curious about why Sean O’Malley’s daughter just bought a single dose of highly lethal cyanide?” Kyle questions me.

My heart races as I stare at him. Is he really going to run to my father about this? He should know how stupid that decision would be.

“If my father finds out that you sold me cyanide, he’ll kill you on the spot,” I tell him. A fib. Probably.

Kyle’s eyes widen a little in realization. “I should get going.”

I watch him hurry off into the darkness, leaving me alone with the little capsule of death in my pocket. As I head into my building and up to my apartment, my stomach twists and turns at the thought of what comes next.

I’ve brainstormed hundreds of scenarios to save myself from an awful fate, but I either end up dead, used against my will, or sick with guilt.

Dmitri will never forgive me for betraying him.

My father will never allow me to be happy. He acts as if I waged war on him just by being born. I’m a failure no matter what I do.

If I hadn’t met Sean, if my mother had never reached out to him, maybe I could’ve had a normal life. A real future. One of my own choosing.

I shut my apartment door behind me and walk over to the kitchen counter, pushing a shaky hand into my pocket to pull out the baggie. I place it on the counter and stare down at it, cold panic spreading throughout me. I don’t want to do this, but I want what comes next even less.

Running would only delay the inevitable.

“Damn it,” I mutter as my eyes start to sting.

I turn away from the capsule and grab a bottle of cheap red wine to pour a glass. The cyanide will work so quickly I probably won’t taste a thing, but I might as well drink something decent before going.

The bottle shakes as I pour half a glass. I set the bottle to the side and stare down into the glass. A small part of me, deep down inside, begs me to stop.

But I’m scared that the future may be worse than death. Or that I’ll suffer so badly I’ll wish I were dead.

Holding my breath, I pull the capsule out of the bag and pierce it to break it open, carefully pouring the salt-like substance into my wine.

I toss the baggie away and pick up the glass, not able to see the cyanide at all. It just looks like a regular wine. Like it won’t harm me in the slightest. Just make me a little sleepy.

I’ll fall asleep. And it will all be over.

A shaky breath escapes me as I lift the glass toward my lips, fighting my panic. If I can’t live life on my own terms, within my own control, without Dmitri hating me, then I refuse to live.

My lips touch the glass, and the sweet smell of wine fills my nose. I squeeze my eyes shut and a tear slips from the corner and streaming down my cheek.

I can’t go back.

A knock on my apartment door nearly makes me jump out of my skin. I jerk my mouth back from the glass, sucking in a deep breath as my heart slams against my ribs. Who the hell is at my apartment right now, of all times?

I set the glass down on the counter and quickly wipe the dampness from my eyes, my head spinning and aching as I try to gather myself.

Another urgent knock on the door prompts me to hurry over. I unlock the door and pull it open, losing my breath at the sight of him standing before me.