Dead Flower (Sequel to The Flower Girl) (Completed)

Chapter 20: Pushback

                             Trigger Warning!

Veronica

Dinner is done, the house is sparkling clean, Flower and I await for Andrew to come home from work. I need to do something in order to make up for the other night. How embarrassing? I don't remember sending that photo out. In fact, why did Aubrey even take a picture of us, with my phone? I told her not to tell Andrew. I'm beyond confused.

I set the table with fancy napkins. The ones that are too high end for my style. I'd rather have the paper veneer ones that I can just throw away. Instead of having to toss these into the washer. It might be hard to tell, but recently I haven't had motivation to do anything.

I thought going out drinking with a friend would be fun, but that just put me in a deeper rut. How can Andrew trust me after that stunt I pulled? If he were going out with the boys, having women dance on him, I'd erupt with spitting anger. The boiling lava inside of me would scorch him without me having to touch him.

He'd be melted before I could finish the job myself. Speaking of anger, Andrew storms inside, slamming the front door shut, scaring Flower. I'm not surprised when she doesn't jump up out of her seat to greet him. I used to be the the same way when my father came home from his tirades.

At least Andrew doesn't snort drugs in front of our daughter. I would absolutely leave him then. I'm not sure why I kept going back to my adopted dad. Could be because I felt bad for him, he was lonely. Then again, drugs and booze comforted him.

Andrew doesn't make a sound as he brushes past to the bathroom. I figure he's still enraged with anger, from seeing me with that guy from the other night. I do feel extremely guilty. Contemplating what I should do, I pitter patter to the bathroom after him.

Are women supposed to chase men? I don't even want a man chasing after me. At the door, I twist the knob that won't budge, locked. I tap on it. "Andrew?" Pressing my ear to the door, is that, is he crying? "Baby, please open the door."

After he ignores my last plea, I take the only fake nail that hasn't fallen from my finger, using it to open the door. I need to take that stupid thing off later. Andrew turns toward me, I'm afraid of what I see. "Get the fuck out!" He wasn't crying after all. His breath is just so fucking heavy. Blood, or something red lines all over his lip. I grab his chin, inspecting. He pushes my hand away. I didn't get a good enough look, before he turns away from me.

"What happened to your face?"

Quickly he states, "I got in a fight." He never learns. "I don't want to talk about it."

I lunge forward. I'm the one crying. "Andrew...this is all my fault." Shoving my face into his chest, I allow his sweat slicked skin to absorb my liquid to. "I'm sorry." The whisper is lost in the pores of his skin. He peels my face back with the root of my hair.

Eyes cut through mine. I see the evil inside. The same evil eyes as Dax's. He takes my mouth. Throwing me on top of the sink. He pulls my pants down, and fingers me. Lips snake upon my neck. "I'm not a good man. Save yourself."

I have no idea what he means by the words. Then fears shocks my core, stunned. Only my mind can work, thinking for itself. Did he murder someone? Finally I make myself move by pushing his fingers out of me. My juices drip down his hand. He sticks the two fingers into his mouth, sucking me clean off him.

"What do you mean by that?" He answers, but not with words. Laughter, something sinister.

"You'll find out tonight baby girl." 

                                         <\3

Dinner was fucking awkward. I couldn't get the threat out of my mind. You'll find out tonight baby girl. What the hell does that even mean? What's it supposed to mean first of all? He didn't say a word at the table. Usually he comments on the meal. Tonight he didn't say a thing. Not even to Flower.