Page 36 of Poisoning Ivy
Killian's smirk is deeper on one side of his face, betraying a dimple that's so deceptively soft it makes me insane.
"The rules are simple. You take the gun, point it at your head, and pull the trigger."
"And hope it doesn't go off." Theo adds with a grin. He’s flawless in every way, the perfect balance to Monty’s soft shadows and Killian’s sharp edges.
"Or hope it does." Killian shrugs, making my eyes narrow on him.
He must sense my weakness, though, because he leans over me, bracing his hands on either side of my shoulders, the tip of the gun grazing against my upper arm. I swallow the rise of excitement, giddy and heady, as I stare at him expectantly.
"You scared, Bambi?"
Scaredisn't the word I'd use for whatever I am feeling.Scaredimplies that I don't want this.Scaredimplies that I want to turn and run and never look back. But that's not what I want.
I want them the same way I always have. Their acceptance, their friendship, their love...
I don't tell Killian that I'm not scared. I don't tell him that I couldn't possibly be scared when this is the first time I've felt alive in the last year. The physical pain I give myself doesn't drown out the mental pain anymore, and none of it makes me feel three dimensional. None of iteverconvinces me that the heart inside my chest is actually beating, despite the moments of unsettling awareness that creep into the silence. I don't dare tell them that this moment is too beautiful to be laced with fear, that I am only alive when I’m with them.
"I'm not scared."
Of its own accord, my tongue flicks out over my lips, and Killian tracks it with his eyes, which are full of something darker than usual.
"Maybe you should be." Monty says, the voice of reason. It’s little more than a whisper.
But I refuse to let them intimidate me into sitting on the sidelines, not playing because of fear. And it’s not like my terror would make them back down, anyway.
"I'll go first." I suggest, my throat threatening to close around the words even as I speak them.
My bravado earns me a bit of laughter from the three of them, and it makes taking the gun so much easier. Killian's hand closes around mine, guiding me to lift the muzzle to my temple. I can feel my blood throbbing against the metal as we press it there, death a fraction of a second away. His thumb runs along my index finger, guiding it to the trigger.
"Just pull when you're ready, Bambi."
I hear Theo's low laugh from somewhere behind Killian's shoulder.
"Any last words?" Monty asks, coming around to stand in front of me. "You know? Just in case?"
There's nothing worth saying, and nothing that needs to be said. So, I say nothing, letting my silence speak for me.
My finger strokes the trigger without any real pressure, an impulse.
"Can you taste it?" Theo asks, his voice husky and low.
"Taste what?"
My own voice sounds far away, and I wonder what I took tonight and if it's causing me to feel this way. I also wonder, if I get the bullet, if there will be time for this to hurt… if I'll feel anything at all.
"Death, Tiger Lily. Do you taste it right there on the tip of your tongue?"
I don't taste anything except for the traces of the whiskey I drank, and if death tastes like whiskey, then he's already so much sweeter than life.
Killian's fingers leave mine slowly, like he's backing away from an explosive. And to be fair, Iamholding live ammunition. I could turn the gun on him, on any of them, in a second.
But I would never.
I let my eyes flutter closed, focusing on the slippery feeling inside me, sufficiently numbed even in spite of the intensity of the movement.
Exhaling a shaky breath, I force my body to still, force my mind to quiet as I lean in.
And then, I pull the trigger.
