Page 164 of Fixation
My needs take the back seat for the time being. Going after Sergey in this room while I’m outnumbered and at gunpoint will only get me killed.
But Harper…Fucking her will offer the relief I need. She’ll beg and cry.
She’ll be my cure.
I lean into his face, lowering my voice so I sound as deadly as I feel. “Find someone else.”
He laughs at me, and I smile.
A hateful smile.
A vengeful smile.
One that’s full of promise.
28
ANDERSON
In a perfect world, I’d be Harper’s perfect partner.
The entire first floor of her home would be buried in flowers. Roses and lilies in every color imaginable, bouquet after bouquet.
She’d never forget how much I love her. How could she, when she’d have chocolates delivered to her doorstep with notes from me?
I’d send her love declarations. Poems. I’d write her sonnets.
I’d be a gentleman who’d knock on her door instead of breaking into her home. A decent man who’d fuck her—no, make love to her—on my bed. Spoon her after. Kiss her neck.
I’d never bite her. Never spank her or tie her up.
But I’m far from perfect.
I get hard from watching her sleep. From yielding two syringes—one for playing with her and one for waking her up later.
I loathe the fact that my father tested these on another human before killing them. That he had the obsessive need to document everything.
Loath and grateful for it.
His evil, psychotic nature helped me prepare these two vials just now at home. The perfect twisted gift from me to Harper.
From Harper to me too.
The minutes I spent at Sergey’s bar had rage swarming through my veins.
Possessiveness and protectiveness have been gnawing at my sanity since.
A little over an hour later, and I haven’t stopped feeling it.
Infecting my cells.
Every step I’ve taken away from Sergey has aggravated my condition.
There’s no other way for me to pull my shit together other thanthis.
My Harper has to give it to me.
Early afternoon light filters into her living room. The tips of the needles gleam in my hands.
