Page 146 of Falling Too Late

He watched me. “Do I need to worry about you spending the next six years in prison?”

That made me laugh, but there was no humor on Alex’s face. “I don’t think so. Did you bring the spray?” I had asked Alex to bring a ground sterilant with him.

“Yeah. It's in the bed of the truck.”

“Do you mind grabbing it?” He gave me a confused look but didn’t argue. He followed in step with me. I laced my fingers with his free hand. “Remember when I told you I used to pretend to poison mom with dandelions?”

He nodded.

“Well, I spent a lot of time in the school library. Came across a book about poisonous flowers and discovered some.” We walked around the back of the apartments, to the edge of the trees before the train tracks. Alex followed me quietly.

“I managed to find out that lily of the valley grows in our area. It likes growing under trees and is poisonous from flower to root. Lucky enough for me, Lloyd wasn’t very good at maintaining the grounds. I found a spot where he wouldn’t destroy the plant. I caredfor them until I had a good understanding of how dangerous the plant could be. I only accidentally poisoned myself a few times.” We ducked under some limbs, walking farther into the trees until the signature little bellflowers were there. “I would pick the flowers and dry them, put them into little glass jars and steep the dried bits in water. Then I would dilute the water into marked water bottles and give those ones to her. I poisoned her for a long time. Just enough to keep her constantly sick. She lived off of booze and cigarettes. She hated the doctors, so I was never worried about being found out.”

I turned to him. “She died of renal failure. A side effect from long term exposure to the poison. Lloyd, on the other hand, got a lethal dose from an extract I made two years ago.” Alex watched me. A jolt of unease shot through me, my insecurities getting the better of me.

I thought back to Jon. “I had made coffee the morning that Jon came for me. I kept a vial of leftover extract in the kitchen. I never had any plans for it. I don’t know. It turned into a habit of mine to just keep some on hand. So, when Jon was distracted, I poured it into his coffee. Unfortunately, he didn’t drink it.”

I gently took the spray canister, wincing when I had the full weight of it. Immediately, Alex took it back.

“Do you want me to spray all the flowers?”

I nodded, leaning against the closest tree. I had always worried about someone stumbling into the area. A child who saw the pretty bell-shaped flowers and picking them was something that lived in my nightmares.

“Are you sure?”

I stared at the small flowers that littered the area. They had always been a comfort. A tool I had in my back pocket.

I didn’t need this tool anymore.

I was strong enough without it.

“I’m sure.”

He walked through the flowers and started farthest away, making long sweeping motions until the ground was saturated.

A poison killing a poison.

Without another word, he guided me out of the area. Once we were in the open space of the playground. I turned to him.

“Are you upset with me?”

“No.”

“Do you think of me differently now?”

“What?” He scoffed. “No, Wren, get your ass over to the truck, and we are gonna talk.”

My brows raised at his tone, but I didn’t argue. Alex put the spray back into his truck and walked over to the water spigot, washing his hands before coming back to me. He picked me up gently, careful of my still sore ribs, and set me back up on the tailgate and stood between my thighs.

“Wren, I told you years ago that there was nothing that you could ever do that would make me hate you. I meant it.”

I opened my mouth to argue with him, but he silenced me.

“Yes, when I thought you abandoned me, I was angry. I wanted to hate you, but I still loved you then, just as fiercely as I do now. Even if you told me you killed an entire monastery, I would still love you.”

I quirked my brow, a smirk on my lips. “Why would I go after a monastery?”

He bowed his head, his forehead on my shoulder. I inhaled his scent. “What I’m trying to say is, if you had a reason for it, then it doesn’t matter to me.”

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