Chapter 74 #2
The monkshood that lines the walkway is starting to wither, and I debate whether to ask Ripley to get a gardener, or let it wilt and die.
With Shantel gone, I may not need an abundance of lethal toxins hanging around.
Though, I wonder if I could get myself a little greenhouse to grow whatever my darkening heart desires, just for fun.
I don’t have a driving need to kill, like most psychopaths.
It all started as a way to survive. To raise myself above the bullies and their abuse.
Even if no one was the wiser. I knew I could protect myself.
The door to Bleakcrest swings open, and we step inside. The man standing guard has me pausing.
“Reid!” Ripley exclaims. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I hope you don’t mind, but it’s home. I found myself missing it after leaving.”
“Of course not. Stay forever if you want.”
“Thank you,” Reid answers. He looks so different, dressed down in an colourful oversized button up with brightly feathered parrots on it.
The board shorts and flip flops he wears don’t match his personality in the slightest. His head turns slowly my way.
“Miss Rose,” he says in way of greeting.
The phrase sends a shiver rolling through me. Maximus used to call me that.
Suddenly, I realize the origin of my unease. He’s dressed just like his now-deceased boss.
Actually…I think he’s wearing Maximus’s clothes.
“Hi,” I reply quietly, searching for my voice. “How’ve you been?”
“The break was nice, but now I’m glad to be back.” His tone is off-putting, eyes shifty, like a predator in the grass searching for something to sink its teeth into. What happened to him in that motel room?
“Well you’re always welcome here,” Rip replies.
Reid breathes in deep, smelling the cinnamon laced air.
“Can you show me where the kitchen is?” I ask.
“Of course,” he replies. Extending his hand, he takes the bag of champagne from Ripley.
“Meet you there?” I direct to Rip, and he warily observes me.
“Sure.” He pecks me quickly on the temple, before turning to leave, jug of hot coffee and disposable cups in hand. “Call if you need help.”
“You know it.”
“Right this way,” Reid says, gesturing through the lobby to the immediate right.
“Hope you didn’t think you were getting more money. You’re a grandpa now. Prepare to spend more than you make.” Bucky lets loose an awkward laugh as he finishes reading off the card, and Shantel barks a grating sound from the opposite side of the room. It makes Rip flinch almost imperceptibly.
Fuck. I hate her.
“You better give us a raise, we have children to support now,” Kyle pipes up from the spinning leather computer chair.
“Yeah, Ripley, kids are expensive,” Shantel drags out the tail end of her sentence, hissing like a serpent.
Ripley rolls his shoulders, not offering her so much as a look. Slamming the door she’s tirelessly trying to slither beneath.
Something like pride swells within me. He’s so uncomfortable, but fighting to not let it bother him. All it makes me want to do is obnoxiously gloat, while slamming my raised middle finger in her face.
Instead, I turn to the table, handing out the cinnamon buns after lighting the candles.
“Why the candles?” Bucky asks. “It’s not my birthday.”
“No, but it is theirs,” I reply, tilting my head in the direction of the sugar glider cage.
“Yes, the hairless rats deserve a celebration,” Ripley groans from my side, hiding his smile as annoyance paints Kyle’s face.
“I swear to fuck, Rip, I’ll shove this candle up your ass, flame first, if you don’t stop.”
“Oooh, kinky. You know pink’s my second favourite colour.” Rip waggles his eyebrows, and I can’t help relishing him in his element.
“Yeah, why is my candle pink, Rose?”
“I thought you’d like it. If you don’t, give it back.”
Kyle pulls his plate inward, turning slightly away from my outstretching hand. “No. I don’t want to be the only one without a candle to blow out.”
“Then don’t complain,” I joke, picking up the roll with the purple candle, and passing it to the evil bitch in the corner.
“Quit giving my girl a problem, or I’ll give you something to blow,” Rip pipes up, and Bucky just about falls out of his chair from shock.
“Did you just make another joke?”
“Shhhh! Don’t bring attention to it or he won’t do it again,” Kyle whisper-shouts.
“You guys are assholes.” Ripley pulls me into his lap, squeezing my back against his chest. “Flower, they’re being mean to me.”
Who is this man, and what did he do with my Ripley?
“Want me to kick their ass?”
“Yes, please,” he mock whimpers, nuzzling against my skin and breathing deep.
Kyle shoots a look to Bucky, who in turn shrugs his shoulders. What’s he going to do now?
“Pretty sure I could take the whole five feet of you,” Kyle chortles.
“Want to bet?” I taunt, playing along. “And I’m five foot four, jerk.”
“Like those extra four inches make a difference?” he chuffs.
“What are the stakes?”
Leaning closer, Ripley whispers against the shell of my ear, “You know you can’t poison him, right?”
I bat him away without a reply.
“Don’t do it, Kyle,” Bucky pipes up.
But Kyle likes to play with fire, and I know what he’s going to say before it’s even out of his mouth. It’s all a ruse to get a rise out of Ripley anyway.
“You first, Rose.”
“If I win, you have to be my slave for a week.”
Shantel scoffs from the corner, drawing my attention for a fraction of a second as Ripley tenses against me. The cinnamon bun sits untouched on the plate in her lap.
Eat up, cunt.
“Sounds spicy, I’m in.” Kyle’s eyes flick to Ripley, calm and relaxed in the chair beneath me. “And if I win, I get a kiss.”
The entire room holds its breath.
Kyle’s words finally register in Rip’s brain, and he launches to his feet with his arm banded around me like an anaconda, tethering me to him.
“I’ll cut your lips from your face before they get anywhere near her,” Ripley snarls as my pussy leaks a steady flow, feet dangling off the ground.
“There he is,” Bucky coos. “You had us worried for a minute, Rip.”
Kyle scoots away slowly. “Yeah, you big fuck, calm down. It was just a joke.”
“Death. To all of you.” Ripley says to no one in particular, settling us back into the comfy spinning seat.
“Can we get on with this?” Bucky says. “My cinnamon roll is turning blue.”
I hand Rip a bun with a green candle, keeping a pink one for myself, and offering the remaining purple one to Reid, who lingers over by the door. Seems he wants to be included but is clearly hesitant.
That’s fine by me. He didn’t set off my alarm bells before…but now? I’m unsettled by the very look glazing over his eyes.
I guess I’ll be taking care of two problems today. Not just the grating woman in the corner, but also the new living embodiment of Bleakcrest’s previous owner.
“Make a wish and blow out the candles, Papa,” I say to Bucky. He ponders for a moment, eyes darting around the room. Silently he nods to himself, then blows out his candle. We all follow suit, picking the candle out and pulling off the melted wax.
Shantel pulls out her purple candle, sliding it in between her lips to suck off all the gooey icing and cinnamon goodness, and I bloom internally.
“So,” Bucky says, grabbing my attention, “has he asked you what your favourite dinosaur is yet?”
I groan theatrically. “Only a hundred times.”
“Must be serious then,” Kyle chimes in.
I smile, malice aforethought thrumming through my veins. “As a heart attack.”