Page 95 of Pretty Pink Poison
“Then I can’t tell you where we are.”
“I’m going to fucking kill you.”
“Not if Pink kills you first.”
And then he hung up on me.
I got up to pace my office, sat back down, called Pepe who gave me the run around on not telling me where they were, hung up on him, and pulled up Oracles to see Bianca had left an entry.
I wanted to click on it, to open it, to listen, to try to figure her out. Every instinct screamed at me to listen, to invade her thoughts, to control her just enough to keep her safe.
But something my brother said rang true. I didn’t ever listen to myself or let her go enough. I’d watched that woman for most of my life, obsessively, protectively, selfishly. And look where it got us.
Maybe she didn’t need me in the way I imagined she did. Maybe I’d been more of a destruction than a salvation, more danger than a shield. I’d wanted to give her everything—every experience, every touch, every memory that would erase the fucked-up ones she got from her parents. But I’d fallen for her along the way, and I’d given up pieces of myself without realizing how much of me I’d lost in the process. My mind, my control, my restraint… all surrendered to her chaos.
And without myself, I wasn’t in control. I was spiraling in a way that would have me ruining her and every single one of us if I didn’t stop.
For once, I didn’t press the button to listen to her entry. I let it sit, dark and silent.
I would wait. Breathe. Hold myself in check. Because if I couldn’t master my own obsession, I’d never let her go… or ever hope to get her back without destroying everything between us.
She ghostedme for a whole month and a half after she left.
The absence of her gnawed at me every second of every day. We were going on 3.5 million seconds or forty something days, but when Olive invited us over to see her newborn, I had hope she’d make an appearance.
I went to that damn cookout with the intention of seeing her. Instead, I was surrounded by her friends, who were also my friends, technically, but they loved her more. It was fucking obvious when I got more than one side-eye from Olive. I couldn’t shake the irritation, the empty spot beside me where she should have been, the thought of arguing over whose face the baby looked more like.
The woman was a force of nature, a storm that could wreck every part of me no matter how tirelessly I worked to build up all my walls. Even while I attempted to erase her from my thoughts, her absence presented itself everywhere. I’d think of how she balanced my mundane workload throughout the day by banging on my door for more Koi pellets to be purchased, how she insisted I watch trash TV late in the night, how she messed up her space to give me something to do when I was itching for distraction. She smoothed out the rough edges I didn’t even realize were visible to the public. She made my obsession tolerable, my control seem natural instead of suffocating.
I felt it acutely now, a hollow ache where comfort had been obvious only when she was present.
I tried to keep myself busy. Mornings were for reviewing Black Diamond assets and tracking shipments. Afternoons were spent auditing accounts, checking security logs, reviewing surveillance, and sometimes running simulations of potential threats—not just to the syndicate, but to her. Evenings, I trained, pushed my body, sharpened my mind, calculated contingencies for everything. Anything to avoid the gnawing thought that she was out there, living, breathing, thriving with him.
With anyone other than me.
I ate, nodded at small talk with Jameson, who kept yammering about some Oracles strategy. I considered if I could listen to one of his entries and find a reason to slit his throat. The fucker still aggravated the hell out of me.
I hated how easily he fit in with everyone around, how Bianca loved him and his daughter, how I even could endure him most of the time especially considering he had snide remarks to say about Bianca every chance he got.
I would have put up with him forever if he hadn’t said, “Pink’s sad as hell to miss today, huh?”
“You’re talking to her?” I whipped around to ask him.
Franny was the man’s only saving grace as he nodded with a small smirk on his face, “What? You aren’t?”
“What exactly did she say to you?”
He rocked back on his heels. “Hmm… I think she mentioned missing Franny… and me. Pretty sure she wants to visit soon. And I’ll have her stay at my placeanytime she wants.”
I couldn’t deal with his jokes at that point. I spun away and went to call my brother to tell him the hell off for keeping her from me.
Rafe answered on the second ring but only to say, “Glad you called. I have news. We’re moving the wedding up.”
It was like he’d stabbed me right in the heart and then waited for a response.
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t form a sentence, could barely even stand.
And then he had the gall to ask, “You still there?”
