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Tell me why I’m struggling to hold down a little five-foot-five woman who can’t weigh any more than a wet dishrag?
“Tie her hands to the bed.”
“Isn’t that mean?” Hannah breathes, stalling.
“She tried to stab me. I hardly think it’s mean.”
Hannah nods, sidestepping around Melissa and wrapping a scarf around the hand that I’m holding, then the bedpost. Her hands shake while she ties the other off in a knot, her bottom lip trembling as Melissa spews all manner of disgusting threats at me.
“Pig. Your mother’s a slut. She’s going to get what’s coming to her. Your sisters, too.”
“It’s done.”
I step off the bed, my muscles tight from holding Melissa down and pull Hannah back when Melissa tries to lunge a kick in her direction.
Definitely not the best experience I’ve had with a girl naked underneath me.
“Come.” I pull Hannah from where she’s rooted in place and lead her to the bathroom off Melissa’s room.
“What is that?” Hannah asks, eyeing the little bottle in my hand.
I hold it up, inspecting it in the light. It looks like a shooter—if standard liquor was the bright green color of acid. I pop the cork, smelling the contents and my stomach churns.
“It looks like poison,” Hannah says softly when I screw the lid back on.
“Absinthe,” I murmur. I didn’t know anyone still drank the shit.
“I thought that was fake.” Hannah’s brows knit together.
“No. Though what they sell in stores is diluted. This . . . appears to be mixed with something.”
“Heaven. . .” Melissa chimes from her bed like she’s on another fucking astral plane. Hannah’s spine stiffens and she turns back to look at her sister.
I step back out of the bathroom, holding up the bottle for Melissa to see.
“I need you to tell me what’s in this.”
Melissa just cackles.
“What is it?”
“Black Dahlia.”
My spine stiffens, the sound of my stepfather’s voice like nails on a dusty chalkboard.
Melissa, on the other hand, gasps softly, the evil puppy act dropping almost completely.
“You came for me.”
I grimace, putting myself between Parker and Hannah when he steps in the room, eyes trained on Melissa tied in the bed.
“What did you do to her?”
“What didyoudo to her?” I retort, holding up the bottle. “This has your name written all over it.”
He doesn’t deny it. Sick fuck.
“The black dahlia is harmless . . . if taken correctly.”
