My Beautiful Poison (Wicked Poison 1)

Because that would never happen. I’m only six years into a long sentence and not once has any of my appeals even been heard.

Yet, here’s Noah, a man I hardly know, who has become my one and only friend, telling me I am finally going to be free.

I rub the stubble on my jaw and eye him. “You’re lying.”

“Do I seem like a man who lies, August?”

No. Noah has never lied to me. No matter how hard the truth may have been, he has always given it to me straight. “I had a cleaner go around to your grandmother’s today, seeing as no one has been living there for all this time.”

I can’t even come up with the words to thank him. So, all I do is nod my head.

“I’ll be back tomorrow to pick you up.” Noah stands, gathering his things. He strolls to the door, but I stay where I am, still in shock. “August…” he says my name, and I check over my shoulder, “… don’t fuck this up. They’ll be eager to throw you straight back in here the first chance they get.”

It’s more than obvious, and I know they’ll be looking for me to fuck up. The same way they easily threw me in here. Trash is what they said when they caught and tossed me into the back of the cop car.

“Noah,” I say. “I owe you one.”

“You owe me nothing,” he says, then continues on his way out the door.

I grip my hair.

Fuck.

Free.

I never thought this day would come.

Destined to end up in here, I was nothing more than a street thug. My mother always said so. So when it finally happened, I wasn’t all that surprised.

But getting out now, because of a man I hardly know who chose to fight for me?

It’s a fucking miracle.

Chapter 3

Rylee

It’s been two days, and I have managed to avoid Anderson. Not once have I seen nor heard from him. It helps that my phone is still lying at the bottom of my bathtub, never to work again.

Rhianna steps into my office, dressed in her work outfit, which consists of shorts and a shirt, and the apron she usually wears is wrapped around her small waist. Her long, dark hair is tied up on her head while mine is in a half-up, half-down ponytail. Her dark, almost black eyes, that mirror mine, stare at me.

Identical. In almost every way, physically.

Twins. With two uniquely different personalities.

Best friends. For all the right reasons.

My ride-or-die.

“Noah is celebrating tonight. I wanted to see if you would come.” My eyes go to the pile of paperwork in front of me. I use it as an excuse. Often. Especially to Anderson.

“I…” Rhianna shakes her head before I can even finish getting my first word out.

“Don’t forget I know you. Like, really know you. So don’t even try to use that shit in front of you as an excuse,” Rhianna says, her hands lifting and pulling her hair out of its bun as she watches me. “All you have time for now is Anderson and work. News flash…” she waves her hands around dramatically, “… I am way more important than both.”

I smirk at her words. Because they’re true. Oh so true.

“I can dress you,” she offers with a smile.

I shake my head. “It’s fine. I’ll head home soon and get changed.”

“I’ve been trying to call you. Why is your phone switched off?”

“I drowned it,” I reply with a smirk.

Her eyes go wide. “Should I ask?”

I shrug my shoulders. “Probably not. I have ordered a new one and should get it tomorrow. I’ll send you the number.” She stands, putting her bag over her shoulder and then across her body. “How’s Noah?” I ask. It’s her first real relationship. He’s older than us and an incredibly successful businessman.

A smile touches her lips at the mention of his name. “He’s good. Really good. I plan to marry that man.”

“I’m glad he makes you happy.”

She goes still at my words, ambles around my desk, and leans down. “You need to find someone who makes you happy, too. Clearly, Anderson is not that man.”

He isn’t, and I am well aware of that fact.

“I’m working on it,” I reply truthfully. And I am. All that’s been running through my head is how I plan to break it off with Anderson officially. Only it’s not just him I have to tell, it’s my parents too. They have already planned our massive wedding, and we aren’t even engaged.

“If you do it and need me to be the insolent child to take the heat off of you, I got ya.” She winks.

I laugh because I know she’s telling the truth. She has no problem with disappointing our parents, especially our mother. Where, for some reason, it physically makes me ill to do so.