Page 87 of Lilies from Hell

Love: Are you coming tonight?

Me: I will always come to you.

I send the message before even opening the photo she sends below. She is leaning against the headboard of her bed and wearing an almost transparent tank top that hugs her curves like a second skin. Her legs are totally naked, except for her lingerie panties.

“Stop that! We’re leaving,” I bark into the air, shoving the phone back in my pants.

I don’t wait for the others to follow me before getting into the car. Denis is the next to follow me. The bloody remains of the Mexican’s face are now stretched over his own. Sergei looks at him with a grimace from the back seat before speaking.

“You’re fucking insane.” Denis just smiles under his new mask, then opens his phone’s camera and focuses it on his face, taking a couple of selfies.

“Polina will like it. I heard women like masked men. Isn’t that right, Vlad?” Vlad is probably the only one of us who would support his bullshit.

“You look ridiculous,” I murmur with the hint of a smile, sliding my phone out of my pocket and opening our chat.

First, I have to take a shower. I don’t know if it is a bad habit that my broken mind got used to after so many years of abuse, but keeping myself clean and the things around me in their proper order helps me maintain the control and peace that has been denied to me for so long. It helps me keep the chaos in my head at bay.

“Wait. I… I want to talk to you about something,” Polina says as I’m about to go up the stairs. I look at her with boredom, leaning on the stair railing. “I’m really sorry about the other day. I didn’t know what I was doing, I just wasn’t myself.”

“You'd be better off apologizing to yourself for doing so many stupid things. Maybe then you’ll learn to have some dignity,” I reply sharply, ignoring the sudden glint in her eyes. “And whatever is starting to form in your head, get rid of it. I don’t want it.” I frown as a tear slides down her pale cheek. I know firsthand the crazy things love could lead you to do, but I never in a million years thought I would be the target of her stupidity.

Before I can take a single step, Sergei comes up behind me and taps my shoulder to get my attention.

“We need to talk about something.” I snort, urging him with my eyes to speak. “Not here.”

The hallways echo with the sound of his shoes. Once we’re in the office, the door makes a slight noise as it closes.

“What is it now?” I mutter impatiently, sitting down in the armchair.

“I think we fucked up when we buried that French guy.” I tense my jaw, sliding my arms across the table until I’m just inches away from him.

“Explain yourself,” I say, a barely perceptible threat in my voice.

“I’m saying someone found us out or some shit like that, I don’t know. The other day I got an anonymous message with an invitation to a fucking funeral with my name on it and a cross-shaped funeral wreath. Right under my fucking nose.”

“Are you fucking with me?” I spit out, tilting my head after a moment. He shakes his head.

“You know I made sure everything was perfect myself. I… I don’t know what happened.”

I bite the tip of my tongue, thinking about the time we had to go back to get the damn cell phone. The spot was untouched when we buried the fucking body. It’s impossible that anyone could have seen us.

29

Grace and I have spent the whole day at the mall, looking for clothes for my date with him, and, to be honest, my feet are not very happy about it.

“We’re supposed to be looking for clothes for you, not me,” I say, looking at the sixth set of lingerie she shows me.

“I never said that. Plus, you need to look good today too.” She rummages through some lace bras until she finds a black one. “Do you like this one?”

I grab it in my hands, looking at the holes in the set with confusion. Being naked and wearing that is practically the same thing. However, just as I’m about to say something, Grace snatches it out of my hands.

“As soon as he sees you wearing this, he won’t hesitate to try to rip it off you,” she says in a singsong voice as she heads toward the cash register. “I won’t allow you to waste any more chances.”

Her stubbornness and my desire to have him on top of me, fulfilling my darkest fantasies once and for all, lead me to accept without batting an eyelid. The second store we enter is less daring.

We both browse through some clothes until we find some that catch our attention enough to go into the fitting rooms. My nerves make my fingers move quickly, pulling the zipper at my lower back with agility. I smile smugly as I admire how the tight black dress I’ve chosen looks on me. Then I look down and see a piece of white paper on the floor. I bend down to pick it up and immediately feel myself go pale as I read it.

If you’re not mine, you won’t be anyone else’s. S.