Chapter 80
The credits roll on the first of Ripley’s favourite movies, and a shiver quakes through me.
“Want anything before the next movie starts, bloodflower?” he asks from beneath me.
“Bloodflower?”
“Sounds slightly more dangerous than flower. I figured it suited you now that you have a few kills under your belt. Do you not like it?”
Turning slightly, I boop him on the nose with my finger. “I love it. Don’t stop calling me flower though, I like that too.”
“I’ll mix it up. Keep you on your toes.”
“Can’t wait.” I snuggle back down into his embrace, waiting for him to change the movie.
“So…” he lets the word hang in the air like a question.
“Hmm?”
“Do you want anything?”
I don’t want to move and break the comfortable position we’ve sunk into. The oversized recliner fits us both perfectly.
The come down from the adrenaline is exhausting though, and a chill has settled into my bones despite the blanket and his solid body against mine.
“Maybe a warm tea?” I reply, struggling to get up from the laid-back position.
Suddenly, the foot rest flips down, and Ripley shoots to his feet, cradling me against his chest. He turns on the spot, sitting me gently back into the plush black fabric. “You stay, I’ll be right back.”
“Kay.” I smile, watching his muscular back exit the room.
His feet pad softly down the hall, and up the stairs.
I listen as he moves into the kitchen above, filling the kettle with water, then moving through the house to the bedroom.
Soft murmuring travels through the vents, but it’s not discernible as a fog settles over me.
The familiar theme music plays softly as I recount the last few hours. Something’s shifted between us, like a puzzle piece that’s finally found its place. It’s not just the love confession, something’s different—solidified.
His words rocked me to my core. I never thought I’d hear him utter them, and I was okay with that. If I never heard them again from this day forward, I’d survive. The memory of him whispering the words across my skin as we made love would be enough to sustain me.
Stepping between me and the cross, Ripley lifted me against him, sliding into me in one brutal thrust. Even now, the feel of him lingers, the curl of his fingers in my tender ass, moving me on him slow and deep.
I squirm in my seat, pulling the blanket up over my shoulders, as my cheeks heat. The aftercare’s almost just as good as the things leading up to it. The pampering, the cuddling, the praise. Shit, hearing how good I did despite his breakdown turned me to putty.
The kettle screams upstairs, pulling me from my thoughts. Sitting up, I rub my eyes, forcing myself to stay awake and enjoy whatever Ripley decides to bring me. Even if I’m sure I’ll hurl from one more bite.
“Rose,” a voice rasps my name.
I turn in the direction of the door, Chelsea standing like a ghost in the threshold.
I’m frozen. Stuck to this chair in terror that I’m fucking hallucinating.
She takes two steps forward, blue eyes welling with tears as her usually level voice cracks my name again.
I launch myself from the chair, nearly tripping on the blanket wrapped around me. Plowing into my sister, I wrap her in the tightest hug I can muster.
“You’re alive,” I sob against her navy tank top. Pulling back, I look up at her. Chelsea’s face glows with a bronze tan, body not frail, but healthy. “Where did you go? We’ve been looking for you for weeks!”
“Not now, we ha—”
Her words are cut off as Ripley bellows from upstairs, drowning out the still-whistling kettle. “Rose!”
Chelsea’s grip on me seems to stiffen, watery eyes turning wary—cold.
“Rose!” he calls again.
Chelsea slowly releases me, blocking my path out of the room. I take a step back. “Yeah?” I call out.
“Everything okay?” There’s a slight waver in his voice, something I’ve only heard once before.
In a cell.
Something’s wrong.
“Absolutely!” I cheerfully respond, and Chelsea relaxes.
In that fraction of a second where she’s not as alert, I dart around her, and thunder up the stairs.
She’s hot on my ass, shouting my name. “Wait! Rose, stop! Please, just wait!”
My sock feet slip as I skid to a stop, colliding with the kitchen island. Fear unlike anything I’ve ever known digs its roots into my bones, stretching far and wide to feast on the marrow that lies within.
“Long time no see, Rosie,” Karson says casually.
This interaction is anything but nonchalant as the gun he’s brandishing points at Ripley.
He stands there, arms raised in surrender, relief coming over his stoic face when he sees I’m unharmed.
Looking over my head, his gaze turns sharp, lethal.
Chelsea’s arm bands around my middle, applying light pressure as a way to guide me away.
“Don’t touch me,” I spit, stepping out of her reach. “What the hell are you doing? Karson, put that down!”
“Not a chance. Not until we’re out of here.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I scoff.
Sidling up beside me, Chelsea tries again to lead me away from Ripley by placing her hands on my shoulders. “We’re here to save you. Take you home. Come on, Rose, before things get out of hand.” Her voice is calm, quiet, patient. Like she’s coaxing an injured animal into a crate.
“Save me? What are you talking about?” Looking to Rip, I snap, “He saved me, and this is my home.” I move out of her grip, taking a few steps to infuse some distance. “Where the fuck were you when shit hit the fan?”
Ripley smiles at my words. While I’m sure he loves hearing them, I’m trying to de-escalate the situation before he kills Karson for having a gun anywhere near me.
“Karson got me out.”
“When?” I growl.
“That doesn’t matter.”
“How fucking long were you there?”
Chelsea’s eyes dart around the room, her shame permeating the air around us. She gulps, loud and forced. “A few days.”
I whirl on her, cracking my hand off her face as red floods my sight. “You fucking bitch! A few days? How?”
Chelsea holds her scarlet cheek in her hand, eyes flicking to Karson.
Whipping my head in his direction, I scowl. “You lied to me? That whole fucking time she was with you, and you made me believe she was in the same situation as me.”
Karson’s sea glass eyes give nothing away, never leaving the threat at his front as he replies to me. “You had to believe it, or else you would have been hell on fucking wheels in there.”
“I would have fucking run! Or at least fought back.”
“It was part of the deal,” Chelsea mumbles from behind me.
“What deal?” I snarl like a cornered predator, waiting eagerly for a small opening before launching the full-force attack.
“The one Karson made with Maximus to free me.”
I can’t believe this. The betrayal I feel threatens to suck me down to a violent place as the sting in my palm aches for more. “Fuck you both, get out.”
“Not without you,” Chelsea replies.
“Why are you even here?”
“You’re my sister!”
“Am I? Do you know what I went through to keep you fucking safe? And you weren’t even there!”
“Show them,” Ripley’s calm voice swallows up my hysteria.
“Show us what?” Chelsea asks, feet slowly shuffling in my direction. Her hand tentatively reaches out to touch me again. I smack it away, moving toward Rip.
“Back up, Rose,” Karson grumbles.
“He knows what,” Ripley responds, answering my sister’s question. “Don’t you Karson? You’re the one that cleaned her up…scraped out the infection so she could be stitched up.”
“What is he talking about?” Chelsea asks.
“Didn’t he tell you?” Rip taunts, attempting to shatter whatever bond has been woven between my kin and Karson. “Rose’s tattoo is a mangled mess now because of all the torture she went through.”
“Thanks, babe,” I quip, and Rip offers me a sheepish look before continuing his rant.
“Not to mention all the other scars she’s forced to wear. Maybe if you hadn’t been so fucking selfish, some psycho wouldn’t have raped her, drugged her, and sewed her mouth shut.”
My stomach drops into my ass. I don’t remember telling him that. How does he know?
The shock that moves across my sister’s face can’t be mistaken for anything but genuine. “Rose…” she chokes my name, and again, I move toward the only person in this room I feel safe with.
“Back the fuck up!” Karson roars, flicking the gun towards the hallway that leads to the main door.
No fucking way I’m leaving.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Chelsea directs at Karson.
“What good would it have done? I couldn’t have you running back there to try and save her. You had to lay low, you’re still a missing person.”
“They almost killed her, Chelsea. More than once,” Ripley divulges, throwing any attempt Karson makes at justification into an incinerator.
My sister looks lost.
Before this, I’d have offered assistance.
Now?
All I want to do is somehow retrieve the gun I stashed in the empty canister labelled Flour, and use it to pump Karson full of holes. The fucking bastard.
Everything I went through to keep Brad from her, to keep her from being fed to sharks, was for nothing.
The front door bangs open, causing everyone in this room to tense up in fear-laced anticipation. Whoever that is, is going to walk up on a stand-off they are in no way prepared for, and possibly die for it if Karson’s a trigger happy motherfucker.
“Rip! I was fucking right! She was poisoned!” Bucky’s footsteps race down the hallway.
Fuck.
“Ripley?” he calls.
Rip turns his head, eyes filled with concern as they flick from me to where Bucky will appear in a matter of seconds.
Without thinking, I quickly move to block Bucky’s path. Karson swings the gun from Rip to his nerdy friend, auburn mullet coming into view as he rounds the corner. Bucky freezes in place, not knowing how to handle what’s happening.
Ripley moves faster than my mind can follow. He grabs onto the handle of the whistling kettle, chucking it at Karson.
The screaming hot container collides with his chest, sloshing boiling water everywhere, as a shot rings out.
I spear my body into Bucky’s, tackling him to the ground, air huffing out of me on impact.
In his fist, he holds the full toxicology report.
Shantel’s bloodwork highlighted, showing faint traces of aconite exposure.
Lucky for me, those plants grow on Bleakcrest’s grounds, and she could’ve come into contact with them accidentally.
Bucky will never have to know the secret Ripley keeps from him.
Of course, when I go, Ripley could come clean then.
Maybe by saving Bucky’s life, I’ve atoned for the death of his sister, and the shady fucking butler who’s yet to be discovered.