Page 47 of The Black Lotus (Fatal Florals Duet #2)

FORTY

SERENA

“ W ake up!”

Cold water cascades over me, jolting me awake as it drips down my hair and soaks into my clothes. When did I fall asleep? How did I fall asleep? I slowly lift my head, looking up at him through my wet hair as I grin. Guess Jason isn’t as much of a threat as my exhausted mind thought he was.

“What are you smiling about? You’re trapped here; you’re going to die here,” he sneers, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.

I shrug, sucking my teeth. “I fell asleep.”

His eyebrows pinch together. “Why is that funny?”

“Because…It means you really aren’t a threat.”

His features morph, confusion twisting into anger, his eyes wide as he slaps me across the face. I don’t register the abuse at first, but it has enough force, my head snaps to the side.

I must want to greet death quickly. “You slap like a bitch,” I spit, tasting iron on my tongue as I spit at his feet.

Stupidity and bravery go hand in hand, my words making me question my sanity.

By the look on his face, I’ve said the wrong thing, but I can’t bring myself to regret it.

Laughter fills the room, mine or his I’m unsure, maybe both?

As he pummels his fist into every inch of me he can reach, not relenting until my body slumps against my restraints, silence blanketing us as the room spins and copper fills my mouth.

I close my eyes, trying to make him think he knocked me out.

I can hear his heavy breathing and feel him standing over me, waiting for me to flinch, to groan.

Waiting for proof he didn’t go too far. Waiting to go again .

I keep my head down, not in the mood to be punched any more.

Aster taught me the pain of a blade, not fists; he never expected someone to be so blunt in their attack.

My body screams for any type of relief as I feel bruises beginning to form.

The need to taunt him more, to see how far I can push his control, battles with the need to stay quiet and wait for him to walk away.

Slowly cracking my eyes open, I see his feet still in front of me, so I stay still, forcing my body to remain limp and lifeless. I want to groan, the need to make some type of noise because it feels like he might have cracked a rib. I guess the bitch was holding back.

I contemplate talking again, but gaining his attention in any way could lead to more harm. Still, I am curious as to what he’s going to do. Aster knows he was the last person I was with, surely he isn’t stupid enough to think he wouldn’t come looking for me.

Fuck it.

“Hey,” I croak when I see his footsteps receding. Looking up, I gather what little saliva I have left in my mouth and say it louder. “Hey!”

He flinches, turning slowly on his heels. “You’re still conscious after that?” he asks in disbelief as he stalks back over.

“I have a question for you,” I say quietly, swallowing back the blood pooling in my mouth, satiating some of the burn.

He crouches in front of me. Making sure we’re face to face. ”Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“You’re not scared?”

His head jerks back, his eyes narrowing in surprise. “Scared?” he scoffs, “Scared of what? A little girl tied to a chair in a place she can’t escape?”

A bloody smile lifts my cheeks as I shake my head.

“Not of me, not yet.” He barks a laugh, and I wait for him to shut the fuck up.

“Aster,” I breathe his name, wishing so badly I was whispering it for another reason.

Wanting him here punishing this cop and freeing me so we can make him scream together.

I pull against my restraints, hoping to instill the fear he has been desperately trying to make me have.

He stands, placing his hands on his knees and crowding me against the chair as he tips his head to the side. “I’m not scared of the Morbid Monet.”

Everything else he says fades to the background as all the air in the room is sucked out.

He knows Aster is the Monet? If he knows his true identity, then why hasn’t he locked him up?

Aster was never questioned by the cops until he met me.

He was safe until he started breaking his rules for me.

Am I the reason this little bitch figured out who he was?

Tears slip free from my swollen eyes as a sob bubbles up, begging to be heard. He snaps his fingers in my face, his lip curling, aware I stopped listening. “Why are you crying?” he asks, annoyed.

“Am I the reason you know?” I sniffle.

His face scrunches. “You?” His harsh laugh bounces around the cement cell. “You think you’re the reason I know who Aster is? You’re not as bright as we thought if you still haven’t figured it out.”

“We?”

Tension bleeds from my muscles. I’m not the reason.

He didn’t get caught because of me. Not that he is caught, unless this is an elaborate setup to get Aster to come here and kill a cop while the other officers are waiting to come in and arrest us both.

Then why would a whole police force let one bitch cop torture a potential accomplice?

And if they had the evidence, why wouldn’t they just arrest him?

No, that isn’t it.

“Think, you stupid girl.”

My breath catches, my ribs aching in protest. “You have a partner.”

“And what else? Come on, think.”

My eyebrows scrunch as I replay the events that lead to this moment. The moment I met Aster. The moment he killed me and vice versa. The moment Zephira coming into our lives and everything after.

“You’re almost there. I can see your brain searching for the answer. Come on, Serena, think harder,” he encourages, which confuses me even more.

The desperation in his voice makes me even more determined to figure out everything, but the pain slows my brain, my thoughts sluggish and jumbled.

“Who is the one common denominator in all of this? The one connecting everyone to you,” he whispers, his eyes taking on a crazy look.

My eyes widen. “Cynthia.”

“Ding, ding, ding! We have ourselves a winner!”

His partner is Aster’s mom. Cynthia, the woman who set the hit and wants me dead, has been pulling the strings from the very beginning?

No wonder he hasn’t turned Aster in; he is working for the very woman who would do anything for her son.

How did she get a police officer into her clutches?

It can’t only be for the money, there has to be more to it.

“Do you want to know how I, Jason Wiley, became partners with the one and only Cynthia Balcom?”

I nod quickly, finding out that was the wrong answer as his fist collides with my mouth again, my teeth cracking from the blow. “Use your words! I refuse to deal with your silence any longer.”

“Yes,” I quietly say.

With a satisfied smile, he sneers one word. “No.”

No? No! After all of that, all the taunting and beatings, he isn’t going to tell me? Why ask the stupid question in the first place if he wasn’t going to give me anything?

“I think it’s best explained coming from the woman herself.”

My head snaps up as fear consumes me crawling up my throat, my body going cold with dread. Not when Sharon had me. Not when Aster was taken. None of that compares to hearing the door creak open as heels clack against the floor, becoming louder and louder the closer she gets.

I look away, not wanting to look at the woman. I need to swallow my fear down before she makes me look at her. How the hell did she escape? How is she here? Of course, she is the one who will kill me.

Sharp nails dig into my cheeks, tears burning in my eyes as she adds to my bruises. “Look at me, Serena.”

Her voice sounds like a succubus, one who truly is evil inside and out.

She presses harder and I obey, opening my eyes and I’m met with a woman who looks like an older version of Zephira with Aster’s eyes.

Definitely a succubus. She is truly beautiful, but her black soul makes her so ugly not even her beauty can hide the darkness her energy produces.

“So this is the one who has bewitched my darling little fox.”