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“I saw that you’re still getting flowers from Sterling,” Liv remarks, seeming to have read my mind.
I walk away from her and over to my dresser to pull out several bra and panty sets. I don’t look at her as I set them in my bag, not wanting her to see the pain on my face from her comment. She’s going to freak when I tell her that Sterling is none other than Mr. Knight.
“Yeah, I got them today.”
“Hmm… today isn’t his normal day to send them. Wonder why he deviated from his usual routine?” She shoots me a look that I catch out of the corner of my eye.
Walking away, I tell her over my shoulder, “I don’t know.”
“Have you talked to him recently?” She follows me into the bathroom and starts rifling through my medicine cabinet for my toothbrush and toothpaste.
I grab my deodorant, brush, birth control, and other essential items and walk back out. She’s close on my heels. I’m starting to feel like I’m being interrogated.
“Not since Wednesday night.” I fib a tiny bit. I guess you could say I haven’t talked to Sterling since Wednesday, since Sterling doesn’t technically exist, right? His personality may exist, but the man himself doesn’t. His name is Asher, not Sterling, after all.
After dumping the rest of my things into the bag, I zip it closed, and Liv comes to stand beside me. I pull in a breath and try to school my features. Obviously, I’m going to tell her about Asher/Sterling, but I’d prefer to do it with a tall glass of wine and away from the creepiness of this house. A house I grew up in and no longer feel safe in. I feel like so much has been stripped from me over the last twenty-four hours: my privacy, my sanity, my safety, my sanctity.
“You ready?” she asks, eyeing my curiously.
‘Yeah.”
I grab my bag and slip on a pair of flats before following her out of the bedroom. Tony is on his phone, talking quietly when we walk into the living room. His brows are pulled down as he listens to the person on the other end of the line. He holds up a finger when he sees us.
“Okay. I’ll see you in a bit. Thanks, man.” He hangs up and pockets his phone. “Ready to go?” he asks, walking over to grab my bag from me.
“Umm… baby?” Liv says with a strained voice.
We both turn to the back door where she’s standing, looking down at something outside. Tony drops my bag and beats me to the door, pulls it open, and bends to pick something up. His body is blocking my view so I can’t see what it is. When he turns and I catch a glimpse, my stomach drops and starts churning furiously. I look to Liv and see her own face carrying a queasy look before her eyes turn hard.
“That bastard!” she growls, her hands balling into fists at her sides.
I walk up to the dead and dried bouquet of flowers that Tony’s holding by the stems with a piece of paper. My heart thumps triple time in my chest—these are the roses I threw away. I know what Liv’s thinking. She doesn’t know that Sterling is Asher. If she did, she’d know he didn’t send these. He just wouldn’t do that. I don’t know how I know that, but I do. I realize right then that Asher’s methods may be unorthodox, but I truly believe he would never hurt me. He’s had so many opportunities to do so, and he’s only ever been sweet, kind, and gentle with me. I may still hate him for lying to me, but I no longer think he would purposely harm me.
I spy a card stuffed down in the flowers and reach out for it. Tony snatches them back from me before my fingers can make contact.
“Wait,” he says, and walks off into the kitchen. Liv and I both follow behind him. I can feel the rage radiating off Liv, and I need to reassure her this isn’t Sterling’s doing.
“This wasn’t him, Liv,” I say as I come to stand beside her. Tony starts going through the cabinet underneath my sink, still holding the flowers by their stems.
Her eyes swing to me, blind hatred in their depths.
Before I can say more, Tony pops his head up and asks, “Do you have any rubber gloves?”
I walk over to the pantry and pull out a box from the bottom of the small closet. I hand them to him and he snatches out a pair and puts them on. Once he’s gloved, he carefully reaches for the card. His jaw locks tight when he reads whatever it says. Fire blazes in his eyes.
“Fuck,” he hisses, sending goosebumps up my arms with the vehemence in his tone.
“What?” I’m afraid to ask, but I need to know what it says.
I shift on my feet as he sets the flowers down on the counter, before coming to me and Liv. I blindly reach out for her hand and she holds it tight as we both look down at the words handwritten on the stained red card.
Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
These roses are dead.
As you soon will be too.
