My Wicked Heart: Wicked Poison Duet, #2

Chapter 1

Rylee

Rhianna’s soft hands wipe at my face. She’s worried. She wants my tears to stop. But how do you make your heart stop bleeding?

I haven’t figured that out yet.

It’s been five days since I last saw him.

Heard from him.

Touched him.

He was at the police station.

They cleared him.

He left.

He. Just. Left.

Noah won’t tell me where he is. Rhianna has even tried to get the location from him.

Noah knows, and he’s keeping it a secret, or he doesn’t—I can’t be sure which one.

Either way, I’m mad. So damn mad.

Rhianna stays next to me. She has been by my side for the last five days. I should feel sorry for Noah that I am hogging her time. But I need her. I really need her right now.

The door to the room flies open, and Beckham stands in front of us, his eyes red and his face stone cold. Without thinking, I reach for him, but he steps back, shaking his head. Beckham never steps back from me, maybe from Rhianna but never from me.

Beckham.

His head lifts and his eyes fall on me, then they turn into angry slits.

Beckham. Rhianna rises from the bed and steps over to me. We both stand in front of him. What happened? she asks.

We hear the door to the apartment open. Noah comes straight to where we are in my doorway. His eyes fall to Beckham before they shift to Rhianna and me.

What’s going on? Rhianna asks.

She’s dead, Beckham says. I’ve never heard him so angry before. So … volatile.

Who? I ask as Rhianna sucks in a breath next to me.

Noah walks in, pushing past Beckham while I stare at him.

Beckham, I… I have no words. The tears that leave my eyes now are not for August but for the young boy standing in front of me. Beckham, I say again, reaching for him. He shakes his head and steps back once more, so I can’t touch him.

They couldn’t save her. After five days, they couldn’t save her, he screams. She slipped away with her fragile hand stuck in mine. He says the last part in a whisper.

Since that day, Paige had been in the hospital, and she lost so much blood they had to give her more. Which caused an infection.

I had hopes she would be fine—she was young and healthy.

I guessed wrong.

So wrong.

Beckham, I repeat his name and reach for him. Not letting him get away from me this time, I throw my arms around his neck and hug him tight. He loved her. He and Paige had something beautiful. Being friends first, their love turned into something special. Even my mother liked Paige, knowing who she was and where she came from.

She was good for Beckham.

Rylee, let me go, Beckham says. I drop my arms from around his neck, and he takes a step back. August was there as well, he says, and his words are like a punch in the gut. He may have been cleared, but I’m pretty sure he’s going to find Josh and pull him from the grave simply to beat his ass. Beckham smirks.

I’m not sure if he’s being truthful or exaggerating. I haven’t seen August to know. He refuses to see me, even when they held him at the station while they investigated. Thankfully, Glenn got there early enough to see most of it, and it was an open and shut case. They were thankful to have Josh off the streets, but also, August was there, and he shouldn’t have been.

I turn to see Rhianna’s head on Noah’s chest as he strokes her hair to calm her down.

Where is he? I ask. Noah’s hand pauses for a second, it’s so quick I almost miss it, and then he shakes his head. Just tell me where he is. His sister died, I yell at him.

Last I heard he was heading to Josh’s house. I look back at Beckham and see him watching Noah with sad eyes. Noah shakes his head at Beckham but doesn’t say anything.

Do you want to come? I ask Beckham.

Beckham’s hands slide into his pockets, and he nods his head once.

No, Rylee. Stay here. Rhianna pulls herself from Noah’s arms and reaches for me. I don’t let her.

I have to go, I reply.

No, you do not, she says, her voice higher than usual. You don’t know what you’re about to walk in on. Stop and think.

No. I’ve stopped and thought. I need to go. I walk out of my room and snatch my keys from the kitchen counter. Beckham is right behind me as I keep walking until we reach the car.

Rylee. We both turn to see Glenn, Paige’s father, standing there. Glenn has sunglasses covering his eyes, so I can’t see the pain that I know will be radiating off of him, but I can feel it. Beckham, where are you going?

I turn to look at Beckham. His jaw is stiff as he grinds his teeth.

It wasn’t his fault. You know this, Glenn says.

I look between the two and grimace at the uncertain tone.

Beckham, I say his name, but he doesn’t look at me.

He keeps his focus on Glenn. "It is his fault. It’s all his fault," Beckham says through clenched teeth.

Glenn shakes his head then steps closer to Beckham. No, it’s not. It’s not his fault at all. Glenn’s hand touches Beckham’s shoulder, and I am afraid I’m missing the point here.

Glenn? I ask, stepping around the car.

You should go, Rylee. Beckham won’t be going with you. I look at Beckham. Confusion is written all over my face, so much so I am sure my eyebrows are touching.

Beckham, I say, and he scrunches up his nose.

It’s his fault, Rylee, he repeats.

Whose? I ask, still not understanding.

Glenn goes to speak, but Beckham cuts him off before he can. It’s all August’s fault. All. Of. It.

Oh. Oh … shit.

I… What do I even say? It’s Josh’s fault, not August’s, Beckham, I manage to reply.

You can’t see it because you are blinded in your relationship. Beckham leans in, and his voice high when he screams, You can’t see it.

I take a step back.

That hurt, a lot.

My baby brother is so angry. His pain and hurt radiate from him with such force, I’m afraid he’s going to loathe me for loving August.

I can’t lose Beckham.

She’s right. It’s not his fault, Beckham. Come with me. Come on. Glenn turns Beckham, and they start walking away to his car. I watch as Beckham leaves, not looking my way at all. Glenn only gives me a curt nod as they drive off, and I am left standing next to my car, wondering what I should do.

A part of me is screaming to get in the car and go.

To see what he’s doing.

See how he’s doing.

The other is telling me to turn around, walk back inside, curl myself in bed, and not move.

I shake my head. No, I’ve done that. Now I have to get in and see him because, clearly, he won’t come find me.

Somehow, I manage to start the car. With steady hands, I drive to where I believe August is located. When I come to a stop out the front, the door is open. Stepping out of the car, no sounds are coming from inside. I close the car door, hugging my arms around my body for comfort as I stand at the entrance.

It’s cold.

Why is it so cold?

August, I yell for him in hope he’s here and I don’t have to step inside. But when no one answers, I walk through the doorway and instantly have to cover my nose.

Oh, holy hell, what is that stink?

It smells bad.

August, I say again, walking farther in. I hear a muffled noise and step over many bottles strewn over the floor as I make my way to what I am guessing is the living room.

Leave, a voice booms.

I search for the source but cannot find it. I know it’s August, though. I’d know that voice anywhere just like the back of my hand.

It whispers to me in my dreams.

I love that voice.

Muffled sounds are heard again, and I step over more shit on the floor until I come face-to-face with August. His hair is a mess. His face is stricken with anger, and his hands are bunched to his sides, one of them gripping a knife. When I listen, muffled noises are heard again, so I glance past August to the two men who are lying on the floor, both of them gagged and tied. Blood is seeping from multiple wounds, and it’s pooling on the carpet beneath them.

August, I say again and step closer.

"I said fucking leave, Rylee. What part of that don’t you understand?" he screams.

Beckham blames you, I blurt out. I don’t know why I said it, but for some reason, it’s the only thing that leaves my mouth.

Good, he says, his hand clenching the knife so hard he is white-knuckling it.

What do you plan to do with that? I ask, my eyes flicking to the blade glinting in the dim light.

He smirks, and it’s not your average smirk. It’s more sinister. Actually, it’s more like a sneer.

You should leave before you find out, August says, not taking his forest green eyes off me.

Your sister, I say solemnly.

Is dead … I know. He says it with calm certainty, and I wonder who this person is standing in front of me. He seems to be void of all emotion. I haven’t seen this side of him before, and I’m not sure what’s caused him to be this way.

You should come back with me, I say.

Not gonna happen, rich girl. You and me, we were a fantasy that has now burst. So, leave before you get in trouble.

One of the guys on the floor starts to move, and my eyes fall to him. He looks familiar.

Who is that?

Just an ant that needs to be exterminated.

My head shakes automatically at his words. He was one of the guys in your house, I declare, realization hitting me. August, what are you doing?

"Rich girl … fucking leave. He turns away from me and goes to the man who’s looking my way. He grabs him by the hair and pulls him up on his knees and brings the knife to his neck. August looks back at me and smiles. Last chance, rich girl. You should leave before your soul is tainted forever."

My soul isn’t perfect, I profess, watching the knife cut into the man’s skin, his blood now pooling around the blade.

No, I guess I tainted it, didn’t I, he says, smiling, showing his teeth. Then, in one swift movement, he cuts the guy’s neck and lets him drop to the floor with a thud.

What the actual fuck?

Chapter 2

Rylee

I should be screaming, yelling, crying. But I’ve done enough of that over the last few days. Seeing August standing there, the knife still in hand, I can’t seem to walk away.

Am I a sucker for the wrong man?

Anderson was a prime example of my poor decision making.

But August, well, he’s different.

Not once have I thought he would touch me in ways that could hurt me. I feel safe with him. I know what the devil looks like, and he is not him.

Even if what I’m witnessing says otherwise.

Maybe I’m brainwashed—fucked in the head.

But something in me is telling me he’s a good man.

"Rich girl, leave," he says again, this time on a growl.

Do you want to go back to prison? I ask.

August pauses while looking down at the guy on the floor.

Don’t, August. Please, think about what you’re doing. Is it worth it?

They won’t know it was me. How do you think Josh got away free for so long? I have all his connections now, and all of them… he pauses, looks back over his shoulder at me, … are scared of me. I warned him I would come for him, and he didn’t listen. The reason he sent me to jail and didn’t kill me was so he could prove he had power over me.

He takes a beat before continuing, He didn’t. And I’ve proven that now. His foot lifts, and he rams it down on the guy at his feet.

August. I say his name in the hopes he will turn around and walk away.

This is one of the guys who took her … who gave her to him, he says, pressing more weight on him with his foot. "Go now, Rylee. You need to leave."

You’ve said that before.

August removes his foot from the guy and walks over to me. The hand that held the knife rises, and he touches my face with it, stroking gently, then takes a deep breath. You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, he whispers, leaning down to kiss me, and I allow it because I am defenseless and vulnerable to his touch.

Every. Single. Time.

His lips push against mine with enough pressure. It’s all I can feel. August moves close, so close that no air can come between us.

He takes, and I let him.

I don’t need to breathe when he’s so willing to give me his breath.

When he pulls back and I open my eyes, he’s watching me.

"Now fucking leave and never come back. If you try to find me, rich girl, your brother will come, and I will have to defend myself. Do you want to lose your brother as well?"

August’s words hit me hard.

So hard I take a step back. He nods once in acknowledgment, turning and walking to the guy on the floor.

It was fun while it lasted, rich girl, he says without so much as a final glance at me.

It takes me a moment to compose myself, and when I do, I turn and walk out of the door and out of that house. When I reach my car, my hands are shaking violently. My reflection shines back at me from the car window. There’s smudged blood over my face. I wipe it off and shake my head.

Getting in the car, I call my brother, but he doesn’t pick up.

So I call Rhianna. She picks up immediately.

Where is Beckham? I ask.

Still with Glenn, I’m pretty sure.

Okay, thanks.

Ry, he blames August. You should stay away from August, okay? At least until Beckham has time to heal … time to think about things. I’m afraid of what might happen.

She isn’t wrong. Beckham is almost an adult. He’s in his last year of high school, and after that, well, I don’t even know what’s going