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“And if takenincorrectly?” Hannah chimes from behind me. She steps beside me and I have to restrain myself from pulling her back. “Is she in danger?” she asks, voice softer.
Parker regards her for a moment like you might regard a fine art piece.
I fucking hate it.
Probably because I know that if he touched her, killing him would be the only painless thing I do to him.
“No,” he says turning back to Melissa who’s desperately trying to reach for him despite her hands shackled to the bed by a pair of ugly scarves. “Though she will need rest. A lot of it.” He sinks down on the side of the bed, wiping a stray tear from under her eye.
Too bad he’s never shown this much kindness to my mother.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Parker.”
“We all have our vices, Mason,” he murmurs darkly, his eyes flashing to Hannah.
Fucking prick.
“Why do they call it the black dahlia?” Hannah asks quietly, completely oblivious to what Parker just said.
“Because someone drank a whole bottle and tried—and nearly succeeded—in skinning themselves alive.”
Hannah falls back a step, her face going white.
“What the fuck is in it?”
Parker shrugs. He couldn’t care less.
“A bit of ecstasy. A bit of extra wormwood. Whatever else she decided to add to it. It’s highly effective in helping with depression.”
“Looks like it,” Hannah sneers.
“I’m taking her home.”
“You aren’t taking her anywhere,” Hannah declares, head held high and lips pursed.
“Let him,” I murmur quietly. It’s better she goes with Parker than stays here with Hannah where she can slit her throat in the middle of the night.
Hannah opens her mouth to argue, but I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her toward the door. It’s intimate. It’s too close, but I’ll be damned if I let go of her until I get her out of harm’s way and I know, once Parker unties those scarves, there’s no telling what Melissa might do.
“Come on,” I tell her, gripping her chin and turning her eyes back to mine when she stops to look back at Parker and Melissa. Her green eyes are filled with worry. Worry I can’t stop, but I can understand.
That helpless feeling when your family is in danger and you’re fucking powerless to stop it.
I lead her down to the foyer and not even five minutes later, Parker is escorting Melissa downstairs, wrapped in a blanket. His dark gaze pierces into mine as if warning me, but I’m past giving a shit.
He’s been trying to get rid of me for years. It’s unfortunate for him that he hasn’t succeeded.
“I’ll be in touch,” he murmurs and then the door shuts behind him.
“Thank you . . . for coming. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t.”
Hannah hands me a beer before nestling into the opposite end of the couch and tucking her knees up to her chest.
Those fucking legs. They’ve been burned into my brain since I got here. Taunting me.
It was a mistake to come here. An even bigger one to stick around after Parker left. Now, with the empty house, I should be leaving, but . . . like a moth to a flame, I can’t seem to stay away.
Even if she pisses me off, there’s some masochistic, fucked-up part of me that still wants to be here. Like a moment with Hannah is a friendly handout from God.
