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“That I was poisoned?”
“About any of it. Especially not me being here.”
“Why?”
I don’t answer her, instead continuing, “And don’t eat or drink anything in this room at all. Except tap water. Not until I give you the all clear. If you’re hungry, let me know and I can give you a snack from my room or something. I’m just across the hallway.”
“Why? What does it mean?”
“It means, Kayla, that someone was trying to kill you. And more importantly, they’re trying to make it look like I did it.”
Kayla’s eyes scan mine, searching for any hint of deceit. She takes in a deep breath and nods. “Okay. But who would want to poison me?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. That’s what we need to find out. But first, we need to make sure you’re safe.” I help her sit up and then quickly grab her a glass of tap water. “Drink this, it will flush the toxins out of your system faster.”
She takes a sip before handing it back to me. “Thank you,” she whispers, her hand still shaking.
I shake my head. “Drink all of it.”
I can see the fear in her eyes, and it ignites a fire in me. Someone tried to hurt her and blame me. I won’t rest until I find out who. “You’re safe now,” I say, my voice low and heavy with promise.
Kayla shoots me an amused, disbelieving look. “Umm, no offence, but I barely know you. The sex was great and all, and thanks for saving my ass, but if someone is trying to kill me, the one thing I’m definitely not, is safe.”
She’s right of course, so what the fuck can I say to that?
* * *
I don’t leave.I put her to bed instead. Alone, like a fucking gentleman, even though my dick is more than willing to go another round with her tight cunt.
It feels alien to be caring for someone rather than killing them. Actively trying to save her life – and succeeding – has done a number on me. Fucking hell, did I really call her ‘sweetheart’ and ‘baby’? I need my head examining.
But that doesn’t stop me from stroking a vivid lock of hair back from her face. She’s drifted off, I should probably get off the bed and leave her to it now.
As if sensing my intention to move – or perhaps my reluctance to – she snuggles into me, her face buried in my neck, her pert little tits pressed against my side, and I’m a happy fucking man.
Settling into a deeper slumber, her lips part in her sleep, her soft little snores a sweet melody. I think about her lying there, her head resting on my shoulder, and my dick twitches to life. Maybe under normal circumstances I’d be tempted to fool around with her while she sleeps. But not tonight. Not after all she’s been through.
Who the fuck is this guy? How can I be like this after only a few short hours of knowing her? She’s still a fucking stranger. But there’s no denying the panic that hit me when she raised that glass to her lips and went down like a sack of shit.
Actually, that reminds me, I need to tidy up. There’s broken glass that needs taking care of, and I need to investigate which poison was used.
Careful not to wake her, I extract myself from her arms and climb out of the bed. Her sleepy whimper of protest stops me in my tracks, but I wait until her breathing evens out again before moving over to her kitchen area. I grab the small dustpan and brush from under the sink, and make quick work of cleaning up, wrapping the glass in some kitchen towel and depositing it in the bin.
Then I turn my attention to the open bottle, and the untouched glass of wine. It’s so obvious now that it was compromised. A clear, almost iridescent film coats the side of the glass, which is plain to see when I hold it up to the light. I bring the tainted wine to my nose and inhale deeply, understanding why Kayla would maybe confuse the wine with being corked rather than poisoned. It’s subtle, but only an experienced nose that’s well attuned to the many different varieties of liquid poison would be able to detect it. But to me, it’s unmistakable. Green lace aphid poison. Deadly fucking potent when extracted in the right way. Clearly this was meant to kill Red. But why? And who, besides myself, has the skills to pull this off?
I grab the discarded corkscrew and remove the cork from the metal spiral and bring that to my nose too. I can’t detect the poison on the cork which means that the wine was likely laced with the poison very recently. With the bottles stored on their side in the fridge, the poison would have seeped into the cork if it was left for more than a few hours.
Kayla stirs in her sleep, and my attention snaps to her like a magnet. All of my senses are on high alert, and I wonder if anyone will come looking later to see if they were successful. Yeah…that can be my excuse for staying. To see if the killer comes back, not because I want to make sure she’s alright.
Once she settles again, I pour the wine down the drain. Then I slowly and methodically open and discard every bottle of wine in her room. All of them were poisoned. Whoever did this meant business, they weren’t leaving anything to chance.
Fools.
A true poison aficionado understands the art of waiting. When you have a deadly poison that can work in seconds, you learn to appreciate the build up. Poison one bottle out of twelve, it becomes a game. When will the victim succumb? It doesn’t matter when, not when you know they will.
I would never have been so…crass in my methodology if I wanted to kill Kayla, but whoever framed me didn’t know that.
Once the wine’s been taken care of, I fill the sink with hot soapy water and begin to wash all of her crockery, glasses, and kitchen utensils. I’m not leaving anything to chance.
