Page 47 of Toxic B!tch
"Out," I say, gripping her arm, yanking her to her feet.
Her knees buckle, and she stumbles, leaning heavily against me. I tsk, slipping my arm around her waist, guiding her forward.
"Come on, now," I croon. "Don't give up on me yet."
She whimpers, her breath coming fast, shallow. "Please," she slurs. "I won't... I won’t say anything."
I let out a soft chuckle. "Oh, I know you won’t."
I keep a firm grip on Elle as I reach into the car, my other hand snatching my bag off the passenger floorboard without letting her go.
The trees close in around us, the darkness thick, pressing in.
I take her to the same clearing Malik and I hunted in. The same spot where hetaughtme how to gut a coyote.
Fitting, really.
I drop her onto the damp earth, stepping back as she tries to push herself up on weak, trembling arms.
"Why?" she whispers, her voice barely a breath.
I crouch down, tilting my head as I study her.
"You were mean to my boyfriend," I murmur, dragging my knife from my boot. The blade catches the moonlight, glinting as I press it to her cheek, just light enough to tease.
Her entire body goes rigid.
"You're going to be my masterpiece."
The way Elle trembles, the way her breath shudders as I circle her—it sends a thrill through me. Her fear is intoxicating. The way her body fights to stay upright even though she knows, deep down, she’s already lost.
I hum to myself as I grab the rope from my bag, whistling a little tune Malik always hums when he’s cooking.
“You know,” I murmur, looping the rope around her wrists, yanking her arms up toward the low-hanging branch above us, “I don’t like it when people hurt what’s mine.”
Elle lets out a ragged sob, her legs twitching like she wants to run, like there’s even a possibility she’ll get away.
“I didn’t do anything,” she chokes out, trying to meet my gaze, trying to play innocent even as her breath hitches with panic. “I swear, I—I don’t even know what this is about.”
I yank the rope tight, making sure the knot is secure, before stepping back to admire my work. Her toes barely scrape the ground, her arms stretched tight above her head, body swaying slightly with the weight of her own uselessness.
“You hurt his feelings,” I say softly, dragging a gloved hand down the side of her trembling face. “That’s not something I let slide, sweetheart.”
“M-Malik?” she stammers. “This is about Malik? The chubby guy from the bar?”
A wicked grin spreads across my lips. “Of course it’s about him.”
She shakes her head frantically, the realization dawning in her wide, tear-filled eyes. “I—I’ll apologize,” she gasps. “I’ll tell him I didn’t mean it—whatever I said. I’ll—I’ll make it right.”
I let out a soft, amused hum. “Oh, will you?”
She nods desperately, tears spilling freely now. “Yes. Please. I’ll do anything.”
I grab her jaw, forcing her to look me in the eye. “Anything?”
“Yes,” she sobs. “I swear. I—I’ll even fuck him if that’s what you want.”
I freeze.
