Page 17 of Hellebore

Not gonna happen.

Not now.

Not ever.

Briar, baby… I will keep killing them.

Every single one who thinks he can touch you.

I stay in the shadows, eyes locked on her, control hanging by the thinnest thread. The mask hides my smile, but the darkness inside me is already sharpening its teeth.

He places his hand around her waist, right where mine just were.

I’m going to cut his fingers off. One by one. Slowly. No hellebore this time. This one will feel everything. Unlike Luke, whose mind I let slip away into flowers and nightmares, this leather-jacket prick is going to stay wide awake for every second I take from him.

I watch from the shadows as she nods at whatever he says. They start walking together toward the exit.

I move, slipping out of the club, I stride straight to my car, and start the engine. The tracker app blinks red on my phone, her car. Good. Perfect.

They climb into her VW. I see him pull her in for a kiss through the windshield.

Lips on my Briar.

I’m going to cut his lips off too.

Fingers. Lips. I pray for his sake they don’t fuck in that miniature car, because if he gets inside her tonight his dick will be next.

I pull out of the parking lot, taking a shortcut, keeping one eye on the red dot. It follows the familiar route back to her building. Good girl. She’s bringing him home.

Her street is quiet when I arrive, rain still falling soft and steady. I park one block away, walk without hurry, and let myself into her building with the key I copied. Up the stairs. Her door opens without a sound.

She will want a glass of wine when they get here. I know her now. I pull a small vial from my pocket and drip the clear liquid into her open bottle of red wine. Just in case, I slide a syringe into each of the three water bottles in her fridge and push the plunger. The drug is tasteless and will act fast.

I check my phone one last time. Her car is parking just down the block.

Good girl.

I walk into her bedroom, open the closet door, and slide inside, pulling it almost shut behind me. The darkness swallows me whole. I want to be here in case neither of the drugged drinks get touched. She fucked Luke once. She is not fucking anyone else. Not tonight. Not ever again.

The front door opens.

“Come here, Briar.” the guy slurs. Drunk. Of course he’s fucking drunk.

“Water?” she asks. Silence stretches. I pray he drinks the water. Or the wine. Anything.

Then something heavy hits the wall. He grunts. The bedroom light flips on. They tumble onto the bed together, his hands already yanking at her shorts, trying to drag them down her thighs.

I watch through the narrow gap in the closet door.

What a fucking disappointment. With a goddess like her and all he can think about is getting into her pussy.

He mutters something slurred. She kisses his neck, but her eyes are closed, movements slow and clumsy. Her hands don’t seem to know what they want.

Yeah. My little mix is already working.

Five more minutes of slow, fumbling touches and they both go still. Out cold.

I push the closet door open and step into the room.