Pernicious Red (When The Wicked Play Book 1)

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Pernicious Red (When The Wicked Play Book 1) Page 9

by Natalie Bennett


  “Surprised?” she asked with a little laugh.

  “Rosetta is a psychotic bitch. She was married to my grandfather. He told me all about you,” Channing addressed her in a level tone.

  “He was as equally as fucked up as I am, and you know it. That’s what made it work between us. That’s what always makes it work.”

  What the fuck was happening?

  Her face had a thoughtful look on it as she reminisced.

  “We’re related?” I stepped away from Channing like he’d burned me.

  “God no,” my grandma scoffed before he could answer. “That’s a bit much, even for me.” She brushed imaginary lint from her shirt.

  I stared, willing her to give me some explanation as to what the hell was going on.

  “Your mother was not my daughter. She was someone I came across with something I wanted.” Her pointed stare implied that something was me.

  “It was easy to gain her trust. She was all too willing to let me play grandma.”

  “But enough of that; look at what I did.” She smiled again, looking innocent for all of five seconds.

  “You fucked with her head,” Channing growled. “You lied to me; you said she was like the rest of us.”

  “Channing, what the hell is going on?” I interjected.

  “Are you going to tell her the full truth?” He more dared her to refuse than asked.

  My grandma’s eyes met mine and she shook her head, turning around and giving us her back.

  “This whole thing was some fucked up plan. No one took into account that I was aware of what was really going on.” His blue eyes met mine and he expelled a breath.

  “She’s not your grandma; she’s mine. My dad was her son—her only child. He really did die from an overdose in his car. She just helped him along.”

  He paused for a minute and I could see he was choosing his words carefully.

  I wanted to speak but feared he would shut down and not give me any more answers.

  My grandma—because I couldn’t consider her to be anything else—remained silent.

  “She killed my grandfather for cutting her out of his will, but he already knew it was coming, which is why he met with me and my brother beforehand.

  “That night in the hotel room…it was a test. You’re not a killer, Red, not without a justified cause. You’re not like me.” He looked over at my grandmother—his grandmother. “Or her. You’re not like the Burrows at all.”

  “She killed your mother and planted all the evidence to point to you. She manipulated you so that you’d come back here. Your mom was clean. Granny here convinced my father to get her hooked back on drugs.”

  I heard everything he said but I couldn’t associate it with the sweet woman who’d taken me in, the stranger across the room acting like an ice queen.

  “How could you do that to her? To me?” I yelled at her.

  She’d fed me all the reasons why it was okay to hate a woman I had once thought the world of. She even helped me channel the guilt I sometimes felt for killing her.

  “She was pissed off that your mom decided to keep you away from her,” he continued. “She knew you would be too intoxicated that night to remember anything. She had someone else watching you.”

  “So the redheads, the flowers, the riddle…were all her?” I asked.

  “The redhead thing started before her time; so did the flowers. It all did. That’s another story, though.

  “I killed them and told her you helped me do it. I was protecting you and making her think you were doing what she wanted.”

  I stared up at him, seeing the truth in his eyes and something akin to pity. He didn’t want me to know the one woman I thought I could always depend on was a con.

  My grandmother wasn’t even mine. She was his.

  I didn’t feel anger towards her, just something similar to sadness for the mother I lost, and that she didn’t deny any of Channing’s statements.

  Some of his answers made much more sense now, like when he said he was the one who’d texted, hinting someone else was the caller. Or like when he admitted the number of people who were dead without telling me that she was responsible for some of those.

  “I couldn’t tell you. I wasn’t sure what you would do or how to get her here. If she found out what was really going on, she would have killed you herself.”

  I looked at her, willing her to say something and deny a portion of what he was saying, but she didn’t. Not even a sigh or glance of acknowledgement.

  “She doesn’t deserve your tears, Red.” He swiped the water I hadn’t realized was trailing down my cheeks with his thumb.

  He wrapped his arms around me and let me use him to lean on.

  “You can thank me for that,” she finally spoke up.

  I lifted my head from his chest to see her now fully facing us.

  “You really were playing a game.”

  “Little Red Riding hood was your favorite bedtime story,” she offered up as an explanation. “Everything was falling apart and I couldn’t let the tradition die off. I’m not even a Morgue. That was my mom’s maiden name. You’re not a real Morgue either, but since your mom changed your name at my request, you’re technically the last one…”

  She trailed off for a minute, “You’re the next best thing. My husband was fucking up everything. My son was a drug addict who refused to get help. That’s not what this family was about. I had to do something. It was time to start over.”

  The fucking smile on her face made me sick.

  “No apology, then? You don’t even feel a little bad for what you’ve done, for all these lives you’ve ruined?”

  “Why would I apologize when you’re getting a happy ending?”

  I no longer wanted to be in the same room with her. Betrayal wasn’t something I was used to, and this was the last person I expected it from. The lengths she went to for this to happen were almost impressive.

  The whole damn town pitied her, thinking of her as a sweet old lady.

  “What do you want to do with her?” Channing asked, silently taking in our interaction.

  “I can’t kill her.” I looked at him, hoping he understood.

  “Is there anything else you want to say to her?”

  Glancing at my grandmother again, I shook my head.

  “We’ll talk later.” He gave her a smile and took me by the hand, leading me out of the basement.

  When I glanced back one last time, I saw her watching us with a prideful look on her face.

  Epilogue

  Channing

  I buried Rosetta Burrows’ body right beside Christian Burrows, just like he’d asked me to. Her death was quick and simple: a bullet to the temple when I felt it should have been a hammer. It was a last personal request from him personally; he wanted them to be together.

  How he knew things would play out like this was still beyond my understanding. He tried to spare me and my brother from this fucked up lifestyle as best he could.

  That clearly didn’t work out too well for him.

  Red was back at the house, going through the shitload of boxes inside. I was glad she wanted to stay instead of run away. When she found out the farm had been specifically built by my family, she decided we could make it a home again in spite of its history.

  It made her happy and gave her something to do to stay busy, which worked for me.

  She wasn’t an overly emotional person. She was blatantly disempathetic, but after all the shit that was just dropped on her, I was waiting to pick her back up if she fell.

  With this behind me, I felt like the weight of the world had just been lifted off my shoulders. I wanted to add a ring to her finger and show her that even though I had some unsavory tendencies, I could make her happy.

  Murdering a few people aside, I was going to focus on us for a while.

  I wasn’t going to tell her Alice had gotten away from my brother and was missing. I had ways of dancing around the truth.

  Tossing the c
loak onto the fire-pit, I looked back up at the house and saw Red watching me from an upper window.

  She waved, giving me a shy smile that really meant she wanted me to fuck her. I knew everything about her, and she was accepting of every new thing she learned about me.

  Rosetta had been right—but that wasn’t surprising, considering her family roots.

  We were getting our happily ever after, even if it was untraditional.

  In the end, the wolf still won.

  Acknowledgements

  Ena & Amanda from Enticing Book Journey. I couldn’t imagine trying to do a launch without you.

  Evelyn Summers When I send my books in for edits I know by the time you’re done they will be 10x better.

  Michelle Brown PA Thank you for putting up with me. lol

  Bloggers- Thank you for all that you do, you’re truly irreplaceable.

  My hubby you always get a spot in the acknowledgements simply for being my rock.

  Readers If you’re new, thank you for taking a chance on my book. For those of you that read everything I write, thank you for helping me slowly but surely make my dream a reality. You all make this worth it.

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  Mercy-A Dark Erotica

  Badlands

  Savages-Badlands 1

  Deviants-Badlands 2

  Old Money Trilogy

  Queen Of Diamonds-Book 1

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