“Don’t you think you should have mentioned that? This is serious shit, Addison. You shouldn’t be here, especially at night. Jesus. Come on, let’s go.”

She placed a hand on my chest and slid it up my shoulder and into my loose hair as she came up on her tiptoes. With her lips hovering over mine, she whispered, “They are also known as the queen of poisons. Did you know that?”

I didn’t, but being in a cemetery with poisonous fucking flowers wasn’t what I called a good time.

“Stop fucking around. This isn’t funny.”

“Are you planning to bend down and pick the flowers?” I could feel her lips curving into a grin against my own.

Considering the situation and what we were discussing, she sounded somewhat crazed. I found myself reaching for something to ground me. The fact that it was her waist was of no consequence as I gripped her tight.

“What kind of game are you playing?” I demanded, not realizing until then that was what I was feeling—played.

“No game,” she breathed out then licked my lip, causing me to yank my head back.

“The fuck you’re not.”

Her fingers massaged my head as she cocked hers to the side. “I told you.”

“Your brother?”

Nodding, she answered, “Yes…Daniel.”

“What happened to him?” I asked.

Without flinching, she replied, “I killed him.”

* * *

The hold Grayson had on my waist was so tight I would have a bruise for sure, and the way his mouth fell open at my admission made me wonder what was going through his mind.

I released his hair and touched his hand.

“Come,” I invited. “Don’t touch the flowers.”

He didn’t answer, but his fingers took mine, and I led him farther across the dewy grass. When we arrived at the far back corner, I stopped in front of the tombstone that had Daniel’s name inscribed on it.

Without looking at the man beside me, I explained, “Every Saturday I come here, hoping this is some kind of nightmare. One where I’ll walk through those gates, and this won’t be here. That all I’ll see is a field. A field that’s full of these poisonous flowers. It would be better than this alternative. Right?”

That was when I faced him.

Grayson was tall. I knew he was, but in that moment, I really took notice. His shoulders were broad and represented strength. To me, he was safe, and the entire time I was with him, I had not heard—I lifted my wrist and brought it to my ear.

“Why do you do that?” he asked gently.

Lowering my arm, happy that the watch was still working, I looked back to where Daniel lay buried beneath the earth.

“Because I was late.”

The silence that stretched between us was complicated for so many reasons, and even though I wanted to explain, I wasn’t sure I could. I’d never been able to before, not even to Doc, who my mom had been making me visit at least once a week for the past two years.

“What were you late for?” he asked, seeming to understand that since I couldn’t describe my obsession, it was best just to ask why I had it.

“Who, not what.” I felt a tear slip from my eye and trail down my face. “I was too late for him.”

* * *

Present…

“Tell me, Addison, what does this picture mean to you?”

I look at the photograph Doc is holding in front of me. It’s a picture of a beautiful purple flower. A flower shaped like a monk’s hood.

I remain silent.

“Nothing?”

My eyes shift to his. The waiting game? Oh, I can wait.

Tick, tick, tock.

He turns the picture around and examines it.

“It’s a photo of a Monkshood flower,” he says, but he knows I’m already aware of that. “It’s very pretty, don’t you think?”

Bait me. That’s what he’s trying to do. He will fail.

“I didn’t know they grew here in Denver, but they do.”

I arch my brow, and he knows me well enough that he continues.

“People often do stupid things when it comes to something pretty…even when they know better.” He pauses and sits forward, giving me the photograph. As my fingers touch it, he asks, “Did Grayson?”

For a split second, I wish I could tell him everything, but I have no answer. Not the one he wants. He wants me to ask for help, but even if I could, I wouldn’t.

I don’t need protecting.

Sitting back in my seat, I trace the shape of the flower with the tip of my finger and remind myself that he is gone, and nothing will change that. All I have to do is…forget I ever knew him.

Raising my head, I pin Doc with a vacant stare and answer his question.

“No. Akoviton.”

Doc’s eyes remain on me. “I don’t understand.”

“Without struggle.”

I can see his mind working as he asks, “Who? Grayson went without struggle?”

A sly smile stretches my lips. He thinks I’m giving him something. I’m giving him nothing.

“This flower, Aconitum, comes from the Greek word akoviton, which means…without struggle.”

He says nothing as he leans back in his chair. I can tell he is trying to decide if there is more to my statement than what’s on the surface.

Let him wonder. Let him think.

This session’s over as far as I’m concerned.

Tick, tick, tock.

* * *

Past…

“Come on, Addison. Let me take you home.”

I could tell she had gone somewhere in her head because she was no longer talking as she stood beside me. She was counting.

One, two, three. One, two, three.

Over and over she repeated the numbers, and the instinct to wrap her in my arms now came from concern. She was visibly upset, and I wasn’t sure if my touch would help to calm her or cause further distress.

“Addison?” I coaxed.

Her hair shifted softly in the breeze, and when those blue eyes of hers found me, I thought she appeared as perfect as the first time I’d met her.

The perfection, however, was marred. Not in a horrible disfigured way but on a deep subconscious level. She searched my face, for what I wasn’t sure, and continued to count—one, two, three—in a way that I would never stop hearing.

This girl was damaged. Why hadn’t I seen that?

She was broken, and some part of me wanted to fix her.

I took her hand, gently squeezing her fingers, and with that small touch, the counting stopped.

“Let’s go. You can tell me more on the way,” I said, walking us back in the direction we’d come.

She was silent the entire way.

Like someone lost, she let me lead her, and I couldn’t stop myself from wondering what would’ve happened if she’d trusted the wrong person?

Or had she?

I unlocked the doors and shook off the thought. Before she climbed into the cab, into the small space I would soon lock myself into beside her, she said so softly I almost missed it, “You make it go away.”

Not understanding, I asked, “I make what go away?”

Dropping all pretense, she replied, “The chaos.”

* * *

I climbed into his truck and watched him walk around the front.

I wondered how he did it. How did he make it all stop?

He got into the seat beside me and pulled the door shut, sealing us inside.

“I’m sorry,” I offered, thinking I needed to say something to make him understand that I didn’t mean to be peculiar—I just was.

I was forever trying to hide this side of myself, never wanting to show I was anything other than okay, but with him it was different.

He didn’t know the story. He hadn’t been there that day.

Not like the rest of them.

Grayson started up the truck, but instead of leaving, he switched on the interior light. For the first time tonight, I felt like I was back in his classroom because the look he was giving me was expectant and concerned.

“Want to tell me what’s going on, Addison?”

I began to nibble on my thumbnail, and almost like it was habit, he swatted it away from my mouth. “Bad habit?”

I shrugged, feeling shy.

“A nervous one.”

He pulled away, and I knew he’d taken that wrong. I reached across the space between us and brought his hand back to me, placing it on my bare leg.

“You don’t make me nervous…” I trailed off, concentrating instead on how large his hand was where it rested on my thigh.

“I should.”

“Why?”

His fingers flexed, but before he could remove them, I placed mine on top.

“Because you’re older than me? Or because you’re my teacher?”

“God, Addison,” he groaned, sounding tortured. I squeezed my hand, pressing his fingers harder against my naked flesh. “Both of those reasons, and…”

Having forgotten all about my moment of weird, I licked my lips and dared to ask, “And?”

I watched as he shifted in his seat so he could face me.

“And because of all the things I’m thinking.”

I could feel my breathing coming faster. He pushed his hair behind his ear, and suddenly, I was burning up. It was hot, too hot.

Not ready to release my contact with him, I used my other hand to unbutton my coat. When I pulled it apart, I heard a strangled sound leave him.

As my pink dress came into view, I knew he could see the swell of my breasts rise with every breath I took. I curled my fingers around his and slowly urged them up my leg.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Addison—”

“Tell me.”

He switched off the interior light. As the cab plunged into darkness, he moved his palm farther up my thigh, and his voice found me.

“I’m thinking about what’s under your dress. I have been since I saw you tonight at Franco’s.”

I laid my head back on the headrest and demanded, “More.”

His hand skimmed the inside of my thigh, and his fingers pressed softly into my flesh, parting my legs.

“Even though I shouldn’t, I can’t stop thinking about how you would taste.”

I could feel myself throb as his words reminded me of our kiss. “More.”

His lips lightly grazed my jaw, and he teased me for the first time. “Greedy. I’ll tell you more if you tell me why you count.”

“It calms me when I’m…anxious.”

His hand slipped even higher under my dress. “You’re not counting now…”

“No,” I sighed as his mouth moved closer to mine.

“Why?”

His warm breath touched my lips as the tips of his fingers finally brushed my damp panties.

“Because of you,” I moaned, closing my eyes. “Your voice calms me. When you speak, I feel safe. I have ever since I met you.”

“Open your eyes, Addison,” he instructed, and I felt my pussy moisten as I did as he asked. “Do you feel calm right now?”

“No,” I whimpered, knowing if he stopped I’d beg.

He chuckled softly. “How do you feel?”

“Hot, wet...”

“And?”

“Ready.” So damn ready.

“If we do this, we can never tell anyone. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I agreed, pulling him in that final inch. “God, yes.”

I pushed my hips up so the full weight of his fingers were against my wet cotton thong and vowed, “I won’t tell a soul.”

That was when he moved.

* * *

As soon as the words left her mouth, I took her.

With ravenous lips and a forceful tongue, I pushed inside, kissing her fiercely as I stroked the soaked scrap of material between her smooth thighs.

Her legs spread even wider, and I braced myself on the seat beside her shoulder. Lifting my mouth from hers, I kissed the corner as my fingers curled into the leg of her panties. Her lips opened with a cry, and her eyes glazed over when she realized what I was about to do.

“Is this what you thought about? When you were lying awake at night?”

She pumped her hips up, trying to get closer, trying for contact.

“Not yet,” I told her and ran my finger up and down the material’s edge.

“Grayson,” she begged, using her hold on my jacket to lever herself up.

“Yes, Addison?”

“In me.”

With those two words, my cock became so painfully hard I almost lost what little control I had left.

“I thought about them inside me. Fucking me.”

That was it. Whatever had been holding me back snapped, and I ripped her panties, pushing them out of my way. My fingers found her, and as her warm juices coated them, I groaned and took her mouth.