Page 48 of The Black Lotus (Fatal Florals Duet #2)

FORTY-ONE

SERENA

H er fox? Her fox! Is she delusional? Aster hasn’t been hers since she abandoned him when Kara turned them in.

I suck in a sharp breath, trying desperately to conceal my rage.

Her breath, which is surprisingly minty fresh, wafts over my face as she lifts a strand of my wet hair and examines it before dropping it and wiping her fingers on her pants.

“You did quite the number on her.” She glances at him over her shoulder, her frustration obvious, then looks back down at me, her eyes scanning every part of my broken and bruised body as her lip curls in disgust. “I truly don’t know what my son sees in you.

Jason!” she snaps her fingers, “Get me my knife.”

“Are you flirting with me?” I say, her head whipping around as I look up at her.

Jason scrambles to retrieve what she’s asked for while Cynthia stares through me. “Jason did say you had a smart mouth on you, but I didn’t think you were stupid enough to use it against me.”

“Guess I have a death wish.”

“You certainly do. Jason!” she screeches, crossing her arms over her chest and tapping her nails along her arms. “Useless man,” she mumbles.

She doesn't have much patience for someone who has waited a long time to be free. Jason had to have helped her escape, unless she has other cops in her clutches, maybe even the warden of the prison she was held at. Chilled to the bone at the thought. How else would she have escaped? Did they help Aster’s dad escape too?

Jason stumbles back into the room, tripping over himself as he runs to get back to Cynthia.

She snatches her knife out of his hand, nicking him in the process as he cradles it to his chest and bows his head at her, stepping out of her space like she’s some kind of queen.

What is she feeding this man for him to worship and cower away from her at the same time?

She points the tip of the blade towards me, the edge gleaming as it catches the light.

“Now, you’re probably wondering what I will do with this, right?

” She brings her wrist to her forehead, dropping the knife to her side as she dramatically speaks in a different voice.

“Will she kill me? Will I get out of here alive? Can I escape her evil clutches?” She tips her head back and pretends to cry. “What can I do?”

She really loves being the center of attention. I roll my eyes at her dramatics as she uses a voice she thinks sounds like mine, putting on a show. She must’ve been alone for too long in that cell of hers.

“Is that supposed to be me?” I ask.

She swings her head up, pointing the knife at me again as she looks at me with crazy eyes that make me shiver.

Not from fear, but from the heebie-jeebies as I shift uncomfortably in my seat.

She’s like a woman out of one of my favorite movies, utterly demented and possessed.

The ones you see standing in a hall wearing a nightgown and a smile too stiff to be real.

“What? You didn’t like my performance? You wound me, Serena.” She waves the knife towards me. “Enough of that nonsense. Shall I tell you why I started this whole thing?” She motions around the room with her last words.

I roll my eyes and she’s in my face in an instant, the tip of her blade sliding into my neck as a small drop of blood forms and drips down.

“Don’t be so rude, my dear. You don’t have a choice in the matter.

I am going to tell you my story, and you are going to sit there and listen like a good little lamb.

Then, when I ask you a question, you are going to answer without a smart ass remark or there will be consequences.

” She grabs my cheeks again, forcing me to look her in the eye. “Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes,” I grind out.

“Yes, what ?” she asks, the knife digging more into my flesh.

“Yes, Cynthia.”

She removes the blade from my neck and smacks my cheek with the flat side. “Good girl.”

My skin crawls. That is not the kind of praise I want to hear coming out of her mouth. If I get out of here. If by some miracle I am found in time, and when the tables are turned on her, I will spit those same words back in her face to see how she likes it.

“Now, where was I? Oh yes! Why am I doing all of this?” she throws her arms wide, encompassing the bullshit that’s taken over my life. “It’s simple really; no one is good enough for my boy. Especially a girl who was meant to be his lamb.”

I chuckle, lifting an eyebrow at her as I shake my head. “Too bad for you, I am his vixen .”

I bite my lip, copper filling my mouth as fire explodes through my leg. Now I know how Jessica felt. She leaves her blade there, her grip around the handle turning her knuckles white.

“Didn’t I tell you not to back talk or sass me?”

I don’t say anything, fearing that if I open my mouth a scream would rip through and the last thing I want is her satisfaction from my pain.

“Answer me, or I’ll dig this knife further into your leg.” She wiggles it a little, my teeth cracking as I hold back my tears. “Or maybe I’ll drag it down and slice you open.”

“Yes,” I grit through my teeth.

“Yes what ?”

Not this shit again. I don’t take my eyes off of Cynthia as I try to concentrate on anything except the pain.

Breathing in slowly through my nose, parting my lips slightly as I blow out, not letting her see the small act.

If she didn’t hold all the power, I wouldn’t be backing down so easily.

If the roles were reversed, I’d tie the cop up like the pig he is and take inspiration from Zephira, cooking him until his flesh bubbles and burns.

Then I’d force Cynthia to eat him and kill her after, but how to kill her…

The knife is ripped from my leg, my mouth parting as an agonizing scream echoes around the room.

My leg shakes uncontrollably from the pain, a satisfied smirk lifting her cheeks as my blood drips down her blade.

She swipes her finger through it and smears it across my lips, the crimson liquid slipping through the cracks even though I keep my mouth pressed closed in a firm line.

“Now, where was I before you so rudely interrupted? Ah yes, you not being good enough for Aster. You see, I worked so hard to fix his brain as a little boy. He watched and learned as we bonded over horror movies.” She paces slowly in front of me, the blade mimicking her movements.

While Jason stands creepily in the corner watching her like the world begins and ends with her.

Someone please take me out of this misery.

She turns, asking a question, I know she doesn’t want an answer to. “I was a good mother, right?” She shakes her head, mumbling to herself, “Yes, yes I was. I was the best mother he could’ve ever had.”

Cynthia twirls the blade through her fingers, her comfort and practice obvious.

“He would never kill an animal, did you know that? The start of every serial killer's journey and he wouldn’t do it. That worried me. If he couldn’t kill a helpless beast, how was he going to kill a human?

Take the life owed to his greatness and skill?

” She begins watching me again, standing eerily still as if she just remembered I was in the room.

Hearing he refused to end the life of an innocent animal proves he isn't the monster she desperately wants him to be. I imagine a small Aster being told to kill a small animal and how his refusal made Cynthia mad enough that steam came out of her ears. I smile with pride knowing my Fox has lines he still won’t cross.

“I thought he was defective, because no son of mine would be too weak to kill.”

Closing my eyes, I will my tears away, my heart aching at the thought of what Aster had to go through before he was thrown into that hell of an orphanage.

She’s a monster. Could he tell his mother didn’t like him?

That she wanted him to be something he wasn’t?

I picture a small Aster again, this time him wanting to be loved and willing to do anything to gain his mother’s attention.

That hurts more than any cut from the beast that birthed him.

Her hands brace either side of my chair, her teeth glinting under the light.

“But all was not lost. I saw the way his eyes lit up when someone was killed in a movie. I knew there was hope, a chance to turn him into what he was born to be.” She pushes herself back up as she places the tip of the knife to her lips, my drying blood touching her skin.

She can’t stand to touch me, but has no problem with my blood?

“So I did what worked with every child; told them they couldn’t do something, which obviously made him want to do it more. ”

There are a lot of evil people in this world, but Cynthia is at the top of that list right alongside pedophiles.

I sneer at the woman in front of me, who seems to think she is untouchable.

I’ll show her just how delusional she is, as soon as I get out of these bindings.

I tug against the zip ties, irritation rising with small movement my body can handle.

Why didn't I think of asking Aster to teach me how to escape these damn things. There has to be a way.

How could she want her own child to kill with her?

Did her husband feel the same? He had to since they were partners.

Both of them make me sick. I need to figure out a way out of here, but the blood is still pooling against my jeans, my body is becoming weaker with every passing second.

I could take one of them, but I couldn’t take both .

Not now. Especially since Jason has a gun.