He laughs but it’s nothing like his usual, easy-going laugh. No, this one’s dark and mean. “Who else would it be?”
I scramble for the door handle, but it’s locked and I can’t figure out how to get it open.“Ithoughtyou were my f-friend.”I try to suck in much-neededairbut my chest feels likeit’scaving in.
“I’mso much more than your friend, Petal.You’llsee.” He reaches into his pocketand pulls out a syringe.
“Clint, no!” I scream,fighting like hell to push keep him away from me while trying to find a way out of this godforsaken car. Butit’sno use. I feel a sharp sting, and then…
Nothing.
THIRTY-FIVE
CLINT
I watchas my Petal sleeps peacefully. She’s a vision. An angel. Then again, that could be the dress talking—Scarlet’s a vision in white.
“Rise and shine,” Itrill, checking my watch. The sedative should wear off soon.I only gave her a small dose.Maybe Igot her weightwrong?I shake offthe thought.It’ssilly. I knoweverything abouther, down toger cycle.Which means if I want to impregnant my wife on our honeymoon, we really need to get the ball rolling. Colorado’s a long drive from here.
The tulle of the dress rustles as she stirs, her features screwing up much the way they did when I injected her. The memory of causing her painmomentarily sours my mood.I don’t ever want to hurt her… but I will if I have to.The sooner she realizes I knowwhat’sbest for her, the better for everyone involved.
“Come on now, Petal. Open those pretty eyes for me.”A sigh rips through me asI pace the length of the room.“I need you to wake up so we can pack.”
Ididn’twant it to come to this—to any of this, butshe’stoo stubborn for her own good.That’sokay though, I know I can get her to seereason. To seethatwe’remeant to be together.
“Where am I?” she asks, her voice groggy from the lingering sedative in her system.
“You’re finally where you belong.”
“Clint?”She blinks and tries to rub her eyes, but the ropebindingher wrists stops her.
I can see the moment it all comes rushing back.Her entire body tenses before she beginsthrashing like a cornered animal, but my knots hold.
“Stop that!” I scold. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
“You’re hurting me,” she whimpers, her eyes darting around the dimly lit space.
“Iwouldn’t have to hurt you if you’d just listen.”
“Okay.” She nods, tears filling her eyes. “I-I’m listening.”
Having her solitary focus is a rush—a high better than any drug. She’s all mine, mine, mine and she’s looking at me, me, me.
Finally.
“Good.” Igrab a chair from the table and drag it over to where I have her bound on the loveseat in my studio apartment.“The first time I saw you… I knew you were the one.”
“At… The Creek?” she asks, causing me to grind my molars.
“No.”I twitch in my seat, muscles straining as I hold myself back from striking her. Sheshouldn’tbe bruised for our wedding. “We met years ago. In high school.”
“Did we?” Her voice is barely a whisper as she looks anywhere but at me. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t remember.”
I stand abruptly, sending my chair flying backwards. “Don’t worry, Petal.” Itwine my fingers into her hair andwrenchher gaze up to meet mine. “I’m happy to help you remember.”
“Clint, please stop.”
“You beg so pretty.” I tighten my grip before forcing her away. “We metsophomore year. Biology. I… I let you copy my notes.”
“Oh… Oh!” She swallows thickly. “That was you.”
