Page 22 of Sardonic Burn

There isn’t anything personal, as if she’s ready to dump that place and leave at any given moment.

Well, except for the number of flowers she has.

What the fuck is up with that? Is she planning to open a botanic garden? I almost mistook it for a fucking jungle.

There isn’t a single interesting thing about this woman. She’s bland, boring, and she’s getting more on my nerves as the days pass by.

Before leaving, Ray leans in and whispers something in her ear. She grins ear to ear and nods. Then, our fathers step into the other room, equally as small.

We’re left alone, and neither of us speaks, moves, or blinks. It’s a staring contest, one I have no intention of losing.

“How’s your thigh?”

“How’s your brother?”

“Bitch.”

Noelle laughs and takes a few steps forward. There’s little-to-no distance between us, and only now am I realizing our height difference. She’s far from short, but she’s a little mouse in comparison to me.

She tilts her head to the side and smirks.

“How innovative.” Sarcasm coats her words. “I’ve been called worse.”

“I can let my imagination run wild and come up with a few… decorative names.”

“I’m sure you can, but—” She stops speaking and takes another step forward. “Didn’t you say you’d kill me the next time we saw each other?”

I clench my fists to my side, and I’m seeing red.

Noelle is the epitome of provocative. Her voice is soft, but it’s poison in disguise. She’s a venomous snake who is only waiting for the right opportunity to sink her teeth into my flesh, killing me painfully and slowly.

The closer she gets to me, the more I can smell a certain scent on her body.

It’s one I’m familiar with and no longer disgusted by.

Noelle reeks of blood.

That’s when I notice that there are a few stains on her white shirt. They’re light and wet, as if she was trying to wash it out in a rush. The bitch was out killing people before coming here.

“I did, but there are some rules to follow. Don’t think I’m letting you live because I want to.”

Noelle bends down to tie the laces on her Dr. Martens. She’s looking up at me and in a quick, swift motion, she’s back on her feet with a dagger’s blade pointed at my neck. It touches my Adam's apple, and the sharp metal draws blood once she applies more pressure.

I’m quick to whip out my gun and press it against her temple, the safety off and ready to go.

“You can break a rule or two, you know.”

“You’re right,” I agree and prepare to shoot. Killing her right here won’t be that bad, right?

“Let’s see which one is faster, then. My blade or your gun.”

Her eyes sparkle in excitement. She knows I’ll kill her before she manages to slice my throat, so why is she acting like an idiot? Anyone with a brain can see that this scenario doesn’t benefit her in the slightest.

“Are you sure about that?”

Confusion washes over her face.

With my free hand, I grab her throat and pin her against the nearest wall. I’m careful not to be heard by our fathers, since it wouldn’t end well for me.

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