My Beautiful Poison (Wicked Poison 1)

Driving away, my hands shake on the steering wheel. As soon as I see a park, I pull over to give my shaking hands and beating heart a chance to rest.

My phone starts ringing, but I ignore it. Clenching my hands, I try to stop the shaking that is taking over my entire body from what I just did.

I just ended something that has been a part of my life since high school.

It was well overdue, but that doesn’t make doing it any easier.

It’s hard.

But necessary.

Anderson, despite being the cheating prick he is, and the abusive asshole he’s become, was there for me for many years. Yes, he may have shown sympathy in times of need for his own agenda, but he was there for me.

A part of me loved him. It’s why I stayed so long when I really should have walked away years ago.

My phone blares again, and when I pick it up to check, I see it’s my sister.

“Ry, gosh, where are you?”

“Driving.”

“Okay, well, drive your ass here, would ya?”

It’s where I was going anyway since home is not an option right now. And Anderson wouldn’t dare come near me around Rhianna. He knows she will not take his shit.

Managing to catch my breath and stop my shaking hands, I drive to Rhianna’s to see her already at the front door. Her hands are crossed, and she is in her pajamas as she stands there waiting for me.

Closing the car door, I make my way to her.

“Anderson tried calling me. And we all know the only reason that would be is because you finally broke it off with him,” she says with a gigantic smirk. “I’m glad. Really happy for you, Ry.”

I rub my hand up my arm where he grabbed hold. It’s hurting badly. “It was long overdue.”

“Yes, very much so. Now come… let’s go and kick Noah out of my bed, and you can tell me how your week has been.” She hooks her arm through mine as we step inside.

“I can’t kick your boyfriend out of your bed. I’ll sleep on the couch,” I say quietly, so we don’t wake Noah.

“Nah, he won’t care. And he knows you’re always first, Ry, no matter what. Do you get that?”

Her bedroom door opens, and Noah rushes out dressed in only boxers, rubbing his eyes when he sees us.

After looking straight at Rhianna, he says, “I’ll take the couch.” We watch as he goes back in, grabs a pillow, then lies down on the couch with no hesitation.

“Told you,” she says as she pulls me to her bedroom. It’s where I sleep when I stay. We shared a bed through most of our childhood. Even though we had our own, one way or another, we would always end up in bed together. It wasn’t until I started seeing Anderson that it changed, and Rhianna moved out. Then I started to come to her house when everything was too much.

I pull my cardigan off my body and kick my shoes away before I climb into bed with her.

“You’re bruising,” Rhianna says, gently touching my arm. When I check, it’s red, and a light purple is starting to come through. “So, it didn’t go well?”

“Better than I thought.”

If I’m honest with myself, I expected to walk out with worse than a sore, bruised arm. But she doesn’t need to know that.

“I hate him,” she says and rolls onto her back and stares at the ceiling. “If I could get away with it, I would put rat poison in that bastard’s coffee and kill him.” She works at a coffee shop and dreams about all the ways to kill Anderson, and she’s come up with some doozies over the years.

I laugh at her.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Noah calls from the living room.

We both crack up laughing, knowing full well he’s a lawyer, and if she was put on trial for murder, he would get her off. He’s simply that good.

“You hush, or I’ll put it in your morning coffee,” she says back to Noah, making him groan. He knows she would never do that. I have never seen my sister so smitten in my life.

And she picked a great one to be smitten with, that’s for sure.

“I heard something…” Rhi says, turning so we are both lying on our sides facing each other. “Well, Vicki did.” Vicki is Rhianna’s roommate and best friend.

“Yeah?”

“That Anderson knocked up a girl,” she whispers.

My mouth opens, and my eyebrows rise at her words.

“He’ll do anything to get rid of it,” I say. “His family believes marriage before kids, and he does whatever they say like a good little boy.”

“Yeah, supposedly she went to his parents first, and she’s past her first trimester.”

I go to speak, but words fail me.

Why would he not have told me?