The Flower
Pretty Poison - Nessa Barrett
The biggest exhale leaves the depths of my lungs, my chest sinking inwards.
A part of me is disappointed that he left me alone.
Another is thankful because I am forced to face what I’ve just done.
There is no pushing it away for me. I always tell my clients how important it is to process your feelings.
I would be a hypocrite if I didn’t do the same thing.
I don’t know what came over me. I can’t believe I just killed a man.
Just like that. Like his life wasn’t worth seeing another day.
Who am I to do that? I’m not supposed to have that choice.
The way the blade slipped into his chest with ease.
I thought it would've been harder. More brutal to stab someone.
Regardless, the decision has been made. There is no going back. Do I turn myself in? I don’t recognize the person I am becoming. Ever since I met Axel, there has been this gravitational pull between us. It’s almost like I couldn't fight it. Not that I tried so hard to.
Having conflicting feelings about a client, now committing felonies and murder with him, what do I even do now? I know that I have to terminate him as a client. Well, I don’t even think that matters anymore because we just killed the owner.
Fuck.
I slump into the hot water until it reaches my chin. This bath is big enough for two people, and it makes me wish Axel was in here with me. I lather myself with body wash and a loofah that were left in the corner ledge.
I watch as the white suds cover the little red bloodied spots on my arms. I rinse them off and scrub again. My breath quickens and I keep repeating until my arms are rubbed red and raw. I move to my legs and my neck, washing every inch of my body with fear.
Tears escape me, and I begin to sob. It’s just me and the loudness of my guilt. I–I can’t do this. I can’t be taking a relaxing bath while there is a dead body just below me. And the man who accompanied me is doing god knows what to him right now.
I quickly stand. Water spills from around me as I vacate the tub. My legs move without permission. Everything around me is a blur besides one thing I’m gravitating towards. I slip on the wet tile, a loud thump of my knees hitting the hard floor. Pain doesn’t register; I just keep moving.
My breaths are unsteady, and so are my steps. I cling to the walls as I get closer to the basement door. A slight ringing in my ears keeps steady pace as I fling the door open.
“Axel?” I shout. My body stumbles down the stairs. I can hear what sounds like buzzing all around. When I reach the bottom, all I can do is run toward him. I latch onto him, grasping at his shirt from the back. He whips his head around with a disturbed yet concerned expression.
“What are you doing down here? You shouldn’t be down here,” he says, turning and shielding his body in front of me. He doesn’t remove my hands from him. He lets me hold on. I tug at him with short breaths.
“I–I don't want to be alone right now–” My eyes widen in terror as I comprehend the horrors in front of me. There are bags and body parts everywhere. I step backward, feeling warm liquid at the base of my foot. I look down and see blood. There's blood everywhere.
“Hey, hey, you’ll be okay. I didn’t want you to see any of this,” he says, putting his hands on my shoulders and grasping them.
“Oh, I think I’m going to be sick,” I say.
Vomit escapes me before I’m able to hold it in.
I hunch over and grab my stomach. My hair is being pulled away from my face as I continue to puke.
I’m not sure why I even came down here. What was I going to expect?
That he would bury him in a field of daisies?
I vomit until everything has left my system. Reality sets in and hits me like a truck. I’m going to prison. That's it, my life is over. Everything I worked so hard for has all been for nothing. I’m the worst person in the world.
“Don’t worry, I’ll clean that up too,” Axel says, nonchalantly.
I give him an “are you serious?” look. How can he be joking at a time like this?
Oh, that's right. He probably has no awareness of the seriousness of this.
He is probably dissociating. So that means I have to face this whole thing on my own.
“Sorry. I don’t really know what to do right now. Do you want to stay down here with me, or do you want me to take you back upstairs?” he asks, taking off the fresh T-shirt he just put on and places it over me. Talk about déjà vu, I hadn't realized I ran down here naked.
I guess I hadn't thought about how I’m making him feel right now. Wait, no. I’m the one who is having a panic attack right now.
“I don’t know what I need. I’ve never been in this position before,” I respond.
“I’m almost done. How about you sit back on top of the freezer and close your eyes until I’m finished? I just gotta bag–”
“Nope. I don’t want to hear anything,” I cut him off and plug my ears with my fingers. I walk over to the chest freezer and hop onto it. I close my eyes, still keeping my fingers in place, shielding any noise that might traumatize me for the rest of my life.
I’m not sure how much time passed, but I feel a tap on my shoulder. One eye hesitantly peeks open. A tall, handsome, rugged, black-haired man stands before me. He grabs my cheeks and runs his thumbs across them.
“All done. Let’s finish that bath,” he says, lifting me bridal style. I latch onto him. My eyes gaze around the basement, and it looks brand new. Like a man wasn’t tied up, murdered, and dismembered in here. If only my thoughts could disappear that easily.
Once we make it back into the bathroom, Axel lowers me into the tub. The water now slightly cooled and warmed. He starts to remove his clothes. They're all crimsoned-colored and muddied, but his skin underneath is clean and smooth.
He was wearing an apron, gloves, and a mask in the basement. He must have taken them all off before coming up here, I can’t even remember. I don’t blame him; he probably didn’t want the rest of his house to get dirty. I look down at myself, remembering he gave me his shirt.
I lift the fabric off me, leaving me fully exposed once more. Goosebumps prickle my skin under the gaze of his hungry eyes staring at me. I shouldn’t be doing this. Any of this. But something about him makes excuses in my mind. Like as long as he is with me, I’ll be okay.
He steps closer to me, his length swinging semi-hard. I bite my lip. The water swooshes as he steps into the tub. I’m caught by surprise as he grabs me and kisses me forcefully. Slight pain prickling on my lip, but I continue.
“You make me want to bite that lip of yours every time you do that” he murmurs between heated kisses. I moan into him, wanting and needing more. My body presses into his, getting as close as I possibly can.
His hard length pushes against my lower stomach. I wrap a hand around it, stroking it slowly. He moans in approval. My lips are raw and bruised, but I don’t want him to stop. The aggressiveness makes me yearn for him badly.
“Hold on to the tub, baby,” he demands.
And before I have time to think, he spins me around by my waist. My hands whip out, ready to catch myself before I slip. He pushes my back forward, bending me over. I hold myself up, latching onto the brim of the tub. He doesn't let go, assuring me that he wouldn't let me slip either.
I look over my shoulder at him. The look on his face is devious, starving, devoted. He’s looking at my ass, grabbing the skin roughly and smacking it. The sound breaks the silence in the room. I jolt, loving the sting that sends shivers throughout my body.
My heart races in anticipation. I want him badly. I wiggle my ass, letting him know to speed things up. He meets my eyes, a little upturn hugs the edges of them, and it makes me want to live in this moment forever.
He lines my entrance with the tip of his cock. No warning is given before he pushes into me, stretching me around him. I moan at the pleasure tearing me open. My grip tightens, and I push myself backward, meeting him halfway.
He holds onto me with a force that will leave indentations in my skin. His length life-threatening, pushing in and out of me roughly. I’m wet, but even with the slip, his dick rubs against my walls like two tectonic plates about to spark.
“You feel so fucking good,” he groans behind me.
I think I have a voice kink because every time he speaks, I feel like I’m going to combust at any moment. I moan with him. The sound of our two bodies meeting is suffocating the room. His cock is so deep inside, I can’t seem to take a full breath in.
“M–more,” I plea. I’m not sure what I’m asking for; all I know is that I don’t want him to stop. I need him to keep going. I can feel my orgasm creeping up, not wanting to lose the friction. Axel doesn't let up. He keeps the same pace, yet pounds into me harder.
The warmth of his hands on my hips leaves. As soon as I start to turn to look at him, he grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls. My neck cranks backward, making me look up at the ceiling. Stings of pain radiate through my scalp, making it all more pleasurable.
“Rub yourself for me, baby. Give yourself to me. I want to feel you strangle me,” he commands. I reach a hand between my legs, adjusting myself for balance. Little droplets of water splash around at the constant wave of our bodies in the tub.
“Mmm,” I moan at the contact of my clit. I rub myself in a circle motion, slowly, steadily. All the sensations overwhelming me and sending me over the edge without warning. My legs shake, wanting to give out, but Axel holds me up.
“Fuck, I’m going to come,” he says breathlessly before pausing. Both our climaxes meet each other, like lost souls being tethered to one another. I can feel his hot release spill into me, and I can’t help but clench tighter.
Our breaths weighing down the movements of our bodies. We both pause, but I wait for him to move first. He pulls out of me, his come leaks down my leg. I stand upright, my back stretching its tightened muscles. I turn to him and say,
“Bath number three?”