Page 64 of Pink Poison

“I’ll reach back out to my contact. He said he’d be available all day.”

He bows his head, his shoulders sagging as if all the fight has been siphoned from his soul. “I-I,fuck.Jamie, I can’t—”

“Go take a breather,” I direct. “Donotfucking leave. I’ll take care of this, Max. I’ll fix this.”

I have to. Ihaveto fix this, because there is no alternative.

“Fix it,” he repeats, seemingly on autopilot before leaving his room.

I wait until I hear a door close before swiping my phone out of my pocket. Everything is a blur as muscle memory carries me through themotions of sending an encrypted text. I keep my words short and to the point, asking just one question:

Who is Creed Hill?

Anticipation sits heavy in my gut as I wait for his response. I’ve never been one to pray, but I say a few words to the man upstairs anyway. God knows we'll need all the help we can get for whatever shitstorm is headed our way.

Minutes tick by before my phone buzzes, bringing a smirk to my face. I guess the guy wasn't lying when he said he'd be available all day. Glancing down at the screen, my smirk is wiped clean off my face. Numbers and letters scatter, corrupting the encryption with my contact. I don’t know dick about this shit, but whatever this is, it can’t be fucking good. I move to power down the device when a message in red text appears.

In a blink, my screen goes black, leaving me with more questions than I have time to find answers to.

Chapter twenty-five

Stevie

Slowly, I pull the knit dress over my head while steam billows out from the shower. Every shift of my muscles burns, as if they’ve been coiled for days. I look at my reflection, taking stock of my tangled hair before moving down to my chest. Aside from a few pinkish splotches on my breasts, there’snothingthat reveals that I’ve had someone’s hands on me, hands that I didn’t ask for—nothingto show that I was forced.

Swallowing thickly, I try—Ireallyfucking try—to pack it away.One day. That's all you get.It should be easy to forget, right?I mean, I blacked out for most of it…the worst parts.

Itcouldbe worse.

I haveseenworse on others.

I'mfine. I'm fine. I'm—

The mirror fogs over, covering my reflection from scrutiny. Disgust trickles through me as I lose the visual of myself. Now that I can’t see my markless body, I feeleverything.

Phantom touches, tender enough that I could fool myself into believing they were from a lover—if Ihadone. A punishing grip over my wrists, pinning me. Thrusts, frenzied between my legs.Pack. It. Away.

I push myself away from the sink and step into thescaldingshower. It burns like hellfire as the water hits my chest.Good.I hope the heat incinerates the ghostly fingers that are still hovering over my flesh. Iwantmy skin to shed, melt from my muscles. I'd rather be set on fire thanfeelhim.

Closing my eyes, I breathe low and slow as I mentally pick up the pieces of what I remember—the call, the box, arriving at the club—andI pack it away just like Mae said.

My heart races as I step further under the shower head and let the steaming water hit my face. It stings in the worst of ways, but I'm frozen in place as my mind scrambles to pick up the remaining fragments. The third floor and its haunting cries. The room with a woman bound. The taste of sweet champagne.

Max.

“Oh, angel. Is this all for him?”

A shuddered gasp breaks free from my lips. Molten, hot streams burn down my cheeks whilehiswords play on repeat in my head. A sickness rolls in me, knowing that Ienjoyedit, that I really believed it was really Max.

My nails rake against the places where his touch lingers, drawing angry red lines across the skin. It stings under the water, but I can’t find it in me to care—not when I feel worse than I did when I stepped in here.

“Stevie,” Kash whispers from behind the shower curtain. “Can I help you out of there?”

“I’ll be out,” I breathe as I rinse my body for the fourth time. “Five more minutes.”

Cool air blows through the shower as the curtain is yanked open. “It’s been an hour, sweetheart.” His words are soft,too soft, matching his tender stare. I want to scream at him to get out, to turn away and not look at me, but the words are stuck in my throat as he wraps a plush towel around my body.

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