My Beautiful Poison (Wicked Poison 1)

August folds his arms over his chest, leans back against the door, and watches me run around getting dressed. I manage to throw my hair up in a presentable bun as I slide my heels on.

“Do you have plans today? Maybe we can do lunch?” I ask August, making him scrunch his nose up.

There’s a knock on the front door. We both turn to look, but I can’t see the door from my room, though August can. He instantly straightens, his arms falling to his sides. I step past him to see Anderson standing there, his eyes landing on August then falling to me.

“Rylee.” Noah turns to me, having answered the door, as my sister steps out of the bathroom.

“Oh, hell no. You should know better than to come to my house, you fuckhead,” she screams.

“Rylee, it’s Catrina,” he says.

“What’s wrong?”

“She had a heart attack. Can you come?”

August’s hand reaches out and captures mine.

Anderson’s eyes drop to the movement.

Catrina is Anderson’s grandmother, and she’s a good woman. Unlike his own mother. Anderson’s eyes are red, which they should be.

“Is she okay?” I ask because I do care. I like her—a lot. I have always had time for her.

“No. They don’t think she’ll make it another hour.”

“Then, why are you here?” Rhianna snaps.

I pull my arm free of August’s hold and reach for my keys.

“She asked for Rylee,” he says simply.

“Don’t…” August says next to me.

I turn to August and see him watching Anderson.

“I’m coming.” I don’t look back as I walk out the door because I don’t want to see the look of disappointment on any of their faces.

When we get to our cars, Anderson holds open the passenger door of his car.

“I should take my own car.”

“Please, just get in. I’m tired, Rylee.”

I nod, not wanting to argue with him. If his grandmother is dying, the last thing he would want to do is argue with me. So, I slide in, and he starts driving.

“How’s your mother?”

“Why was August Trouble at your house?” he replies, his hands squeezing the steering wheel.

“What? You don’t get to ask that! Anderson, how’s your mother?” I ask again.

“Do you take me for a fool?” he spits, and it’s then I note he’s not driving the right way to the hospital.

“Anderson,” I say, reaching for my phone in my bag. He snatches it from my hand and throws it in the back seat.

“You can’t call him to come to your rescue. He is scum. The things he used to do. How could you associate yourself with someone like that?” he says almost calmly. “You were meant to be my wife…” now his voice is rising to almost a scream, “… and now you make me look like trash.” He keeps on driving. Speeding down the street. My anxiety level rising with each second that passes.

“Where are we going?” My hands are shaking, and my eyes seem to be skirting around, trying to work out a way out of this situation I now find myself in. If I open the door, I could jump, but the car’s going fast and the outcome might not be good.

“To make you remember you love me, and we are it for each other.”

“Anderson, pull over. Let me out of this car right now.”

“No can do, Rylee. You’re mine, and you’re delusional if you think you belong to someone else. I let you have your fun with the trash, now it can take itself out, and you can come back home with me, where you were meant to be all along.”

He turns down a dirt path.

I know instantly where he’s taking me, to the place where I lost my virginity to him. It was a terrible night. I wasn’t ready. And now when I look back, I can see he pressured me into it.

How very different the two men are.

Here I was, throwing myself at August and he respectfully waited.

Where Anderson pressures me into things, like right now. He’s lying to get what he wants.

His hand touches my thigh and I jump, pushing his hand away, almost swatting it like a fly.

“Where is your girlfriend? You should be with her, Anderson.”

“She isn’t my girlfriend. You are,” he says the last two words through gritted teeth.

His hair’s a mess. I assumed it was because he was upset, but now I realize it was all a ploy. I see his phone is sitting between us.

“I am not your girlfriend. We don’t work, Anderson. You cheated every chance you got. I was unhappy and going through the motions with you. Don’t you think we deserve more? You could be happy with someone else.”

“No. You’re what makes me happy.”

“Happy people don’t cheat, Anderson,” I tell him as he slows the car down.

“Is that what it will take? For me not to cheat?” he asks, glancing my way. “I’ll do it, but that means you will have to fuck me more, Rylee. Stop pushing me away.”