Pernicious Red (When The Wicked Play Book 1) Read online

  “Are you trying to imply I’m not normal?”

  “No, I’m not. Did you need something? I’m on the clock.” I lifted up my nametag to emphasize my point.

  “It looked to me like you were organizing candy bars.”

  What an asshole.

  “Yeah, that’s part of my job, and since you clearly don’t need anything, I’m going to continue doing it.”

  “I never said I didn’t need anything, Red.”

  “Stop calling me that.” Spinning back around, I almost slammed right into him, which made me pedal backwards in an attempt to keep a safe distance between us.

  I would have fallen on my ass if he hadn’t easily caught me and kept me on my feet. When I attempted to pull away, he pulled me closer, bringing his solid body mere centimeters from mine.

  “I never said I didn’t need anything,” he repeated quietly.

  Words failed me for all of ten seconds. His touch sent a surprising tremor of awareness skating down my spine. He licked his lower lip and it was impossible not to track the movement through lowered eyes.

  “Look at me.” His soft words held an underlying command that forced me to comply. His bright blue eyes bore into my plain brown ones, capturing my full attention.

  “What do you want?” My voice came out steady; inside, I felt anything but. It was a miracle I kept my ragged breathing from being heard.

  “You know what I want.”

  “I don’t.” Slightly shaking my head, I tried not to focus on the way his large hands were gripping my wrists, and how I kind of liked how it hurt. I could smell his minted breath and woodsy cologne every time I inhaled.

  “You.”

  “What?”

  His one worded answer was confusing enough to sever the small hold he had on my attention span. Blinking and rapidly shaking my head, I attempted to pull away and was met with no resistance this time.

  “That’s not funny. We don’t even speak to one another, and we never have.”

  “I was too busy watching you to ever say anything,” he shrugged.

  “Watching me? Do you know how stalker-ish that makes you sound?”

  “If that’s what you want to call it, fine. Doesn’t change the fact I did it. That I still do it.”

  My jaw slackened at his callous confession. I wanted to believe he was fucking with me but my gut told me otherwise.

  I was bothered by how much that didn’t bother me. Was he admitting this because he knew I watched him to?

  “I have to get back to work.” Turning around, I made my way past the candy bars and crossed over to the opposite aisle. By the time I got to my register area, Channing was standing in front of it with the melted Hershey bar in his hands.

  Destiny, my co-worker and something like a friend, stood behind her own checkout counter, pretending to be absorbed in a magazine.

  Pressing my lips into a firm line, I entered my employee code to unlock the register and wordlessly rang up the candy, purposely keeping my gaze diverted from his. Channing didn’t speak until the final exchange of money. I held out his coins and he needlessly closed his hand around mine.

  “Are you scared, Red? Because you’re shaking, and not for the reasons I want you to be,” he taunted me, a cocksure grin appearing on his face when I snatched my hand away.

  “Have a good day, Channing.” I dismissed him as quietly as I could, clenching my shaking hands into fists.

  “I’ll see you around, Red.” He pushed away from my counter without a backwards glance and walked out of the store, disappearing around the side of the building.

  I felt Destiny’s curious stare and refused to bring up the obvious; she had no issue doing so to me.

  “Soooo, are you going to tell me what that was?”

  “You saw what it was: a guy buying a candy bar.” I shrugged and tore open a roll of pennies to dump in my drawer.

  A snort flew from her nose, I glanced at her from the corner of my eye.

  She was staring at me with a cool smile and a raised brow.

  “You can’t refer to Channing Burrows as just ‘a guy’. That has to defy a law somewhere.”

  Shaking my head, I pushed my register closed and finally looked at her directly.

  “There’s honestly nothing to tell, Des. Channing isn’t a blip on my radar. We don’t talk to one another, and I’m more than happy to keep it that way. He came in for a candy bar.”

  And to sort of admit he likes watching me. The last two encounters with him had been odd but also a little thrilling, for reasons that made me wonder if I needed to see a shrink. I wasn’t ready—wasn’t able to discuss it because I myself couldn’t decide how I felt about it.

  I knew the things I wanted weren’t exactly normal for a young twenty-one year old woman, so my lips remained sealed. Destiny looked like she wanted to say more; I knew she didn’t believe me.

  Thankfully, she let it go and we went on with our day, safely avoiding the confusing topic of Channing Burrows.

  Chapter Four

  Rosalie

  I reached Hawthorn’s Pub ten after nine.

  There was a decent crowd inside but Alice was easy enough to find.

  She was at our regular table, her back to me and facing the area where the pool tables sat. Her straight blonde hair hung down her back and the puffy blue jacket she’d had since senior year hung on the chair.

  “Geez, you look like shit,” were the first words out of her mouth as soon as I sat down across from her and shrugged out of my pea-coat.

  “Wow, please don’t spare my feelings or anything,” I quipped.

  “It’s Joyce, isn’t it? I told you not to go near that charity case. Actually, I think I may have begged, now that I think about it.”

  I sighed and picked up the table menu. This was why Alice was my best-friend, the sister I wished I had, who had the kind of family I could only wish to have been a part of.

  Where I tried to reign in the inappropriate words ready to fly from my mouth, she went all out. I was the new girl forced to attend a new school in the middle of senior year because of a family ‘tragedy’. Alice was tasked with showing me around and our schedules almost matched. The friendship was inevitable; we were like peanut butter and jelly.

  “It’s not Joyce. I mean, yeah, she’s driving me up the wall, but there’s something else.” I sighed, preparing for a long conversation. “Let’s order first. I haven’t eaten yet today and I’m starving.”

  Rolling my last chicken-strip around in my basket, drenching it in Baby Ray’s, I waited for Alice to say something.

  Her elongated silence made me more uncomfortable than I already was. She was the only living soul who had some kind of idea of the demons I dealt with.

  She sipped on her Goose; I reached for my cranberry juice. I didn’t touch alcohol anymore. I was almost a full three years sober and only allowed myself a cooler every blue moon. I struggled sometimes, but every time we came here I felt stronger after walking out without tasting so much as a drop of liquor.

  “Wow, when you said you needed to vent I thought it would end with me going to shove my foot up Joyce’s ass and packing her shit in a few garbage bags.” She puffed up her cheeks, then let out a noisy stream of air.

  She could out-curse a sailor, I would almost bet on it—just another reason why I adored her.

  “Give me all your wise advice,” I half-joked.

  “Look, Channing is…sexy. Fuck, is that man sexy. So is his brother. But I also think he may be bat shit crazy. Like, a silent killer type of crazy. There’s just something about him that puts me on edge. The fact he admitted he’s a psychopath—”

  “He said he watched me.” Interjecting with a laugh, I leaned in so I could hear her better over the music and other conversations.

  “Exactly; that’s the same thing. I sort of want to barricade you inside my house to keep you safe.”

  “I don’t think Channing is dangerous. I think he’s just intense.”

  “Uh-huh. I know
there’s more to it than that, but we can talk about all this later. Me and you are going to have fun tonight.” She took one last swig of her drink before hopping down from her chair.

  She smiled at me but I knew it wasn’t all the way authentic. Something else was going on inside her pretty blonde head. This was Alice though, and I knew her well enough that when she said ‘later’, she was being literal.

  Tucking thoughts of Channing and Joyce into the back of my mind, I followed her to the other side of the bar.

  Chapter Five

  Rosalie

  Using the bottom of my shoe, I pushed the toilet handle down. I inwardly cringed when I shouldered the stall door open and was forced to look at my reflection in the mirror.

  I’d been at the bar a good three hours and whatever leftover energy I had was now non-existent. I had the depressing look of someone who desperately needed sleep. Beneath my eyes was an unattractive puffiness that made me look like I’d been crying.

  Sighing, I went to the sink and washed my hands. The swooshing of the bathroom door had me glancing over my shoulder.

  “Channing?” I shrilled, twirling around to face him. “What the hell are you doing? This is the girls’ room!”

  He didn’t look at me until after turning the lock on the door, ensuring no one else could get in. My heart dropped before kicking into overdrive; there was no way I was getting to the door without sidling past him. The bathroom wasn’t that big and his presence made it seem ten times smaller.

  I took a step forward just to backtrack as he stalked towards me. His movements were deliberately slow. He was dressed similarly to the way he’d been the night before, in a black quarter sleeve shirt that hid the preview of ink I’d gotten a glimpse of, and dark jeans. His eyes flitted with amusement over my discomfort.

  “What are you doing in here?” I asked again, taking another step backward. My back hit the metal hand dryer with a resounding thud.

  “I must not have made myself clear last night.” He stopped directly in front of me, staring me down like I’d done something wrong.

  He won’t hurt me. He won’t hurt me. The mantra repeated in a timid echo inside my head. I knew it would be ridiculously easy for him to do whatever he wanted; no one was around to stop him.

  I glanced over his shoulder towards the scuffed bathroom door, wondering how long it would take Alice to figure out something was wrong. I contemplated screaming as loud as I could, but would I be heard over the music?

  “Look at me,” he ground out, pinching my chin and forcing me to comply.

  “What is your problem?” The second the question was out of my mouth I wanted to suck the words back in. His blue eyes narrowed into slits and his grip got a little tighter.

  “My problem is you letting that piece of shit get anywhere near you.”

  Confused, I blinked up at him, at a loss for words. Unable to hold his intense gaze, I tried to look away again.

  A gasp slipped out when he let go of my chin and repositioned his hand on my neck.

  “You like this don’t you?” he murmured, stroking my flesh with the pad of his thumb. Goose pimples rippled across my skin as I struggled to remain nonchalant.

  “Adam Harvey.” He spewed the name like it was a filthy curse. I still wasn’t sure what he wanted me to say, or why me talking to an old classmate would warrant this type of reaction.

  My pupils dilated when it dawned on me that he had to have been watching me for quite some time to have spotted that interaction.

  “Channing…” I breathed, carefully choosing my words in an attempt not to upset him any further. Strangely enough, I wasn’t afraid, didn’t feel like my life was hanging at an odd balance.

  I was more concerned with how my body was reacting to him, and his state of mind.

  “I don’t understand wh––”

  “I think you understand perfectly fine,” he interrupted, bringing his face closer to mine. The night before, when he said he wanted me, I chalked it up to him screwing with my head. The possessive look in his eyes and the increasingly harsh grip he had on my throat made me start to think otherwise.

  “What do you want?”

  “You know what I want. You’re being stubborn about giving it to me. What you’re failing to understand is that I don’t have an issue with taking things that don’t necessarily belong to me.”

  My mouth dried, and I froze as he skimmed his soft lips over mine.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  I jumped at the sound of Alice’s voice, immediately bringing my hands up to push against Channing’s chest.

  He simply laughed, easily catching my wrists in one of his large hands and bringing them above my head, forcing me into a precarious position.

  A second later, there was a loud thump on the bathroom door and Alice’s voice carried through as she began arguing with someone on the other side.

  “You’re crazy. And you’re confused and deluded about what’s between us.” I struggled to break free of his grip, shuddering when he pressed the solid frame of his body against mine. I swallowed an involuntary moan when I felt his hard erection against my lower stomach.

  Anger circulated through my veins—anger at my body for betraying me, and anger at myself for winding up in this position. As if sensing my internal struggle, the corner of Channing’s mouth lifted into a half-smile.

  “You know what I think?” he gritted out.

  “I think you like knowing I watch you. If I slid my fingers inside your pussy right now, you’d be wet. Keep denying what’s right in front of you, what’s so obvious to everyone else.” He rubbed his nose against mine and sucked in a deep breath.

  He dropped my wrists and stepped back, shaking his head at me while exhaling the air he’d just drawn in.

  “It doesn’t matter where you go or how safe you feel. I’m always watching. I know your every move…everything you do.” He stepped to the side and held out a hand, gesturing for me to move past him.

  Questions ricocheted inside my head, demanding I find out what his real motive was, but a deeper sense of logic told me to get out of the goddamn bathroom, and get out fast.

  Two steps forward and he was grabbing my arm again, leaning in to murmur, “You don’t tell her anything. I know your secret, babygirl. You wouldn’t want to make me rethink my generosity in letting you walk out of here without fucking that shitty attitude out of you on the bathroom floor.”

  I moved away from him like a newborn calf on shaky legs.

  My choppy movements had me fumbling with the raggedy door lock. Pulling it open, I barreled out of the bathroom, grabbing Alice’s hand and nearly running down the hall.

  I didn’t miss the grin Cole gave me the second we made eye contact. Alice made sure she called him an asshole one more time before falling into step beside me.

  “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” She peppered me with questions I wasn’t able to answer. I fought to regulate my breathing and make sure my face wouldn’t broadcast the confusion and turmoil swirling around inside me.

  Did he really know what I’d done?

  How could he? Not unless it was him who had helped me on a certain night, but Channing didn’t fit that type of profile at all.

  “Rosalie stop!” Alice grabbed hold of my lower arm much like Channing just had, forcing me quit speed walking through the parking lot.

  “Alice, I swear he didn’t hurt me, okay? I just want to go.”

  She studied my face, trying to gauge if I was lying or hiding something. Her frown had already been in place, doing little to let me know if she saw anything or not.

  “We can go, but you’re coming home with me. I’ll bring you to your car in the morning. I should have made you go there in the first place. You look exhausted.”

  Her tone held no room for argument, and honestly, I didn’t have the energy or desire to go back and forth with her. I nodded in agreement and walked towards her yellow bug.

  Chapter Six

  Rosalie
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  I agreed with everything she said to soothe her suspicions.

  “Channing’s a fucking asshole, and so is Cole,” Alice growled.

  I silently agreed.

  I let her rant and ramble, giving minimal response until I fell asleep. Most nights, I had the same recurring dream. If I was lucky, the sleeping pills hit me hard enough that I didn’t dream at all, and if I did, there was nothing for me to remember come morning.

  That night, though, things happened a little differently. It started off as it always did: I saw the blood running across the hardwood floor towards the metal vent.

  I crawled right through it, away from my mother’s corpse.

  It was always a little sticky, as if it had been there for quite some time and was beginning to dry.

  My bloodied hands and knees slid around on the oak floorboards. I could never stand up, but I always managed to make it into the living room. This time, however, my path was blocked.

  Even in a faceless dream, I knew it was him. I opened and closed my mouth but no words would come out. With more strength than should have been necessary, I lifted my head and looked up at him.

  I tried to plead with my eyes that my mother needed help. I knew on a sub-conscious level this wasn’t real, knew she had stopped breathing long before this moment. I didn’t know how I could be dreaming but feel so awake.

  Channing smiled down at me and stroked the top of my head. “I like you like this, down on your hands and knees. You’re helpless.”

  I blinked once and then his hand was around my throat. He lifted me off the floor until the tips of my toes were the only thing in contact with it, and pressing my back against the wall.

  I grasped his bulging wrist with one hand but it wasn’t to push him away. I leaned into his touch, begging for him to squeeze as hard as he could. His free hand disappeared beneath the hem of my dress and he slowly trailed his fingertips up my inner thigh.

  He watch me closely, his face now set in an unreadable mask. A festering desire had me spreading my legs in silent encouragement for him to keep going. He was almost at my underwear and I wanted his fingers inside me.