Synopsis

When Ellis Earnshaw and Heathan James met as children, they couldn’t have been more different. Ellis was loud and beautiful – all blond hair, bright laughs and smiles. Heathan was dark and brooding, and obsessed with watching things die.

The pair forged an unlikely friendship, unique and strange. Until they were ripped apart by the sick cruelty of others, separated for years, both locked in a perpetual hell.

Eleven years later, Heathan is back for his girl. Back from a place from which he thought there was no return. Back to seek revenge on those who wronged them.

Time has made Heathan’s soul darker, polluted with hatred and the thirst for blood.

Time has made Ellis a shell of her former self, a little girl lost in the vastness of her pain.

As Heathan pulls Ellis out of her mental prison, reviving the essence of who she once was, down the rabbit hole they will go.

With malice in their hearts and vengeance in their veins, they will seek out the ones who hurt and destroyed them.

One at a time.

Each one more deadly than the last.

Tick Tock.

Dark Contemporary Romance. Contains explicit sexual situations, violence, disturbingly sensitive and taboo subjects, offensive language and very mature topics. Recommended for ages 18 and over.

Español

Cuando Ellis Earnshaw y Heathan James se conocieron como niños, no podrían haber sido más diferentes. Ellis era ruidosa y hermosa, toda cabello rubio, risas brillantes y sonrisas. Heathan era oscuro y meditabundo, y obsesionado con ver las cosas morir.
El par forjó una improbable amistad, única y extraña Hasta que fueron apartados por la crueldad enferma de otros, separados durante años, ambos encerrados en un infierno perpetuo.
Once años más tarde, Heathan está de vuelta por su chica. De vuelta de un lugar del que pensaba que no había vuelta. De vuelta a buscar venganza sobre los que les hicieron daño.
El tiempo ha hecho que el alma de Heathan se oscurezca, contaminada por el odio y la sed de sangre.
El tiempo ha hecho de Ellis una concha de su antiguo ser, una niña perdida en la inmensidad de su dolor.
Cuando Heathan saca a Ellis de su prisión mental, reviviendo la esencia de quién era una vez, por el agujero del conejo irán.
Con malicia en sus corazones y venganza en sus venas, buscarán a los que las lastimaron y destruyeron.
Uno a la vez.
Cada uno más mortífero que el anterior.

TIC TAC.

Romance oscuro comtemporáneo. Contiene situaciones sexuales explícitas, violencia, temas tabús e inquietantemente sensibles, lenguaje ofensivo y temas muy maduros.
Recomendado para mayores de 18 años

Tillie Cole hails from a small town in the North-East of England. She grew up on a farm with her English mother, Scottish father and older sister and a multitude of rescue animals. As soon as she could, Tillie left her rural roots for the bright lights of the big city.

After graduating from Newcastle University with a BA Hons in Religious Studies, Tillie followed her Professional Rugby player husband around the world for a decade, becoming a teacher in between and thoroughly enjoyed teaching High School students Social Studies before putting pen to paper, and finishing her first novel.

Tillie has now settled in Austin, Texas, where she is finally able to sit down and write, throwing herself into fantasy worlds and the fabulous minds of her characters.

Tillie is both an independent and traditionally published author, and writes many genres including: Contemporary Romance, Dark Romance, Young Adult and New Adult novels.

When she is not writing, Tillie enjoys nothing more than curling up on her couch watching movies, drinking far too much coffee, while convincing herself that she really doesn’t need that extra square of chocolate.

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Scandalous review!! Loved this book too much and here is my review!

Scandalous por LJ Shen

They call him The Mute for a reason.

Hard, cold and calculated, he rarely speaks.

When he does, it’s with disdain.

When he does, his words aren’t meant for me.

When he does, my stomach flips and my world tilts on its axis.

He is thirty-three.

I am eighteen.

He’s a single dad and my father’s business partner.

I’m just a kid to him and his enemy’s daughter.

He’s emotionally unavailable.

And I am…feeling. Feeling things I shouldn’t feel for him.

Trent Rexroth is going to break my heart. The writing isn’t just on the wall, it’s inked on my soul.

And yet, I can’t stay away.

A scandal is the last thing my family needs. But a scandal is what we’re going to give them.

And oh, what a beautiful chaos it will be.

Ellos lo llaman el Mudo por una razón
Duro, frío, calculador, casi nunca habla.
Cuando lo hace, lo hace con desdén
Cuando lo hace sus palabras no son dirigidas a mí
Cuando lo hace mi estómago da una voltereta y mi mundo se gira sobre su eje.
El tiene treinta y tres.
Yo tengo dieciocho.
Es un papá soltero y el socio de negocios de mi papá
Soy solo una niña para él y la hija de su enemigo.
Él está emocionalmente no disponible.
Y yo estoy... sintiendo. Sintiendo cosas que no debería sentir por él.
Trent Rexroth va a romper mi corazón. La profecía no está solo en la pared, está tatuada en mi alma.
Y aun no puedo mantenerme lejos.
Un escándalo es la última cosa que mi familia necesita.
Pero un escándalo es lo que vamos a darle.
Y que bello caos será.

Review

This is the best book ever!!! Loved this book, the plot, twist, the characters!!! I am so in love with this!!! Is a clomplex, heartbreaking, amazing story!!!

Wow just wow, as Leigh does to outdo herself every time, I have no idea, but her books just keep improving every time.

This trip with our last Hothole (yesssss, my heart cries for it), was one too intense, emotional, distressing, sad, hopeful, unique, tender, hot, raw, I loved every word in the book, every sentence so full of feelings.

I knew of course that my dear Leigh would never disappoint me, and that Trent would make me fall at his feet, but let me tell you that it was that and more, Leigh created her magic and gave us a unique story, with twists and turns that I never expected, with unique prose, masterfully developed, she always has the ability to create stories that make you feel, live and suffer with the characters.

I started the book thinking that no one could ever outdo my Dean, but I was completely wrong, Trent, omyGod!!!, the mute, perfectly imperfect.

A journey of two lonely souls, that found in the least expected way, but perfectly complemented. Trent and Edie are perfect for each other, despite the differences that separate them, and the drawbacks in their relationship, they had me sighing with love, crying, suffering, laughing, hopefully.

I’m not your boyfriend, sweetheart.” “Then what are you?” I gulped.

He leaned closer to me, whispering to the crook of my neck, “Your undoing.”

“You’re mine, and you hate it. You’re mine, and I’m not a wave you can ride. I’m the fucking ocean”

Trent, called the Mute, for good reason, is an enigmatic character since we met him in Vicious, having a very different upbringing to that of his friends, he has had to fight much more for what he wants. He is a dark, quiet character who prefers solitude to the company of people. He has to raise his daughter Luna alone and besides she is also a solitary little girl who does not speak and has difficulties to relate to others.

He was a dark knight made of coarse material. Cruel in his silence and punishing in his confidence.

Edie is a teenager who carries a heavy load on her shoulders, who does not have a life like that of other teenagers and who despite coming from a wealthy family also struggles for what she wants. She is a beautiful girl, young and full of life, who loves the ocean and surf.

In an adverse situation they find and begin with the left foot, hating themselves and wanting to kill each other, but in spite of everything they are attracted physically.

“Fuck you.” My hands shook, trying to pull down the hand break. “Not in a million years, kid. You’re not worth the jail time.

I was able to breathe in his singular scent, of a clean man and a dirty fuck. He oozed sensuality, making me want messy, forbidden things.

As they begin to relate sparks jump and each time the attraction is harder to hide. The encounters between them are always explosive, with sparks jumping from both, hot and sexy ... In the end they have to give up to the attraction and those scenes, wow, spontaneous combustion, that scenes, oh my God !!! They made me blush on more than one occasion.

Luna, is a unique character, a sweet, tender, solitary kid, who can not communicate with others. The fierceness, love, and surrender with which Trent protected her made me so tender, made me want more than once to enter the book and embrace them.

I wanted to share the world with her. She was mine. My blood, my DNA, my cells, my eyes, my fucking being.

And still. I loved my daughter hopelessly, desperately, urgently.

The hotholes, Dean, Jamie, Vicious, as always was a delight every time they were together, I laughed too much with them, but I fall in love with the fierce way they cover their backs and protect friends and loved ones.

My friends were my tribe, my custom-made, hand-selected family. Saying we had each other’s backs was an understatement. Nearly twenty years and counting, we were still blindly loyal toward one another. When one of us jumped, the others gladly took the fall.

Bane, I need his story, really, Russian, sexy, hot and I just finished killing me his unconditional support with Edie. Super intriguing, may Leigh bring us his story.

Bane wasn’t a good guy. He was a liar, a thief, and a drug dealer. And my sometime boyfriend.

The other secondary characters perfectly complemented the story.
This is a unique story, with so many feelings, so much passion, so much sweetness, so much reality, so much sadness, so much anguish, so much hope, and that epilogue, gahhhh, I cried of emotion with him, that Mr. epilogue.

I moved on top of me like I was wave, filling my body, my core, and my soul. Stroking my cheeks, kissing my eyes. “My girl, my obsession, my Tide.”

I’m his tide, and he’s my anchor. Or maybe the sand itself

A story that you will not want to miss, ladies and gentlemen, I fell at it feet, totally in love with the characters, their way of being and the capacity of surrender and sacrifice for those who love. I DO NOT WANT THE END, I do not want to say goodbye to the hotholes, my heart is not ready yet ...

Unique, masterfully written and very well developed ....

Español

Guau solo guau, como hace Leigh para superarse a sí misma cada vez, no tengo idea, pero sus libros solo siguen mejorando cada vez.

Este viaje con nuestro último Hothole (siiii, mi corazón llora por ello), fue uno demasiado intenso, emocional, angustiante, triste, esperanzador, único, tierno, caliente, crudo, amé cada palabra del libro, cada frase tan llena de sentimientos.

Ya sabía por supuesto que mi querida Leigh jamás me decepcionaría, y que Trent me haría caer rendida a sus pies, pero déjenme decirles que fue eso y más, Leigh creó su magia y nos entregó una historia única, con giros y giros que jamás me esperaba, con una prosa única, desarrollada magistralmente, siempre tiene la habilidad de crear historias que te hacen sentir, vivir y sufrir con los personajes.

Comencé el libro pensando que nadie jamás podría superar a mi Dean, pero estaba completamente equivocada, Trent, omiDios, el mudo, perfectamente imperfecto.

Un viaje de dos almas solitarias, que se encuentran de la forma menos esperada, pero se complementan de forma perfecta. Trent y Edie son perfectos el uno para el otro, a pesar de las diferencias que los separan, y los inconvenientes en su relación, me tuvieron suspirando de amor, llorando, sufriendo, riendo, esperando con ellos.

Trent, llamado el Mudo, por justa razón, es un personaje enigmático desde que lo conocimos en Vicious, teniendo una crianza muy diferente a la de sus amigos, ha tenido que luchar mucho más por lo que quiere. Es un personaje oscuro, callado, que prefiere la soledad a la compañía de la gente. Tiene que críar a su hija Luna solo y aparte ella también es una niña solitaria que no habla y tiene dificultades para relacionarse con los demás.

Edie es una adolescente que lleva una carga pesada sobre sus hombros, que no tiene una vida como la de los demás adolescentes y que a pesar de venir de una familia adinerada también lucha por lo que quiere. Es una chica bella, joven y llena de vida, que ama el océano y surfear.

En una situación adversa se encuentran y comienzan con el pie izquierdo, odiándose y queriendo matarse uno al otro, pero que a pesar de todo se sienten atraídos físicamente.

Conforme empiezan a relacionarse chispas saltan y cada vez la atracción es más difícil de ocultar. Los encuentros entre ellos son siempre explosivos, con chispas saltando desde ambos, sexys y calientes… Al final no les queda más que ceder a la atracción y esas escenas, combustión espontánea, que escenas, ohmiDios!!! Me hicieron sonrojar en más de una ocasión.

Luna, es un personaje único, una niña dulce, tierna, solitaria, que no puede comunicarse con los demás. Me provocó tanta ternura la fiereza, amor y entrega con que Trent la protegía, me hizo querer más de una vez entrar en el libro y abrazarlos.

Los hotholes, Dean, Jamie, Vicious, como siempre fue un deleite cada vez que estaban juntos, reí demasiado con ellos, pero me enamora la forma tan fiera como se cubren las espaldas y protegen a los amigos y los que aman.

Bane, necesito su historia, de verdad, ruso, sexy, caliente y me terminó de matar su apoyo incondicional con Edie. Super intrigante, ojalá Leigh nos traiga su historia.

Los demás personajes secundarios complementaron perfectamente la historia.

Esta es una historia única, con tantos sentimientos, tanta pasión, tanta dulzura, tanta realidad, tanta tristeza, tanta angustia, tanta esperanza, y ese epilogo, gahhhh, grité de emoción con él, que señor epílogo.

Una historia que no querrán perderse, señoras y señores, caí rendida a sus pies, totalmente enamorada con los personajes, su forma de ser y la capacidad de entrega y sacrificio por los que aman. NO QUIERO QUE TEERMINE, no quiero despedirme de los hotholes, mi corazón no está preparado todavía…

Unica, magistralmente escrita y muy bien desarrollada….

Read Today!

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Vicious

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About LJ Shen:

L.J. Shen is an International #1 best-selling author of Contemporary Romance and New Adult novels. She lives in Northern California with her husband, young son and chubby cat. Before she’d settled down, L.J. (who thinks referring to herself in the third person is really silly, by the way) traveled the world, and collected friends from all across the globe. Friends who’d be happy to report that she is a rubbish companion, always forgets peoples’ birthdays and never sends Christmas cards. She enjoys the simple things in life, like spending time with her family and friends, reading, HBO, Netflix and internet-stalking Stephen James. She reads between three to five books a week and firmly believes Crocs shoes and mullets should be outlawed.

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One
Wedding Unbliss
Amie
This is the happiest day of my life. I allow that thought to roll around in my head, trying to figure out why it doesn’t seem to resonate the way it should. This should be the happiest day of my life. So I’m not exactly certain why the uneasy feeling I associate with cold feet is getting worse rather than dissipating. I’ve already done the hard part; walked down the aisle and said “I do.”
My husband excused himself to go to the bathroom several minutes ago and, based on Armstrong’s itinerary for the day, speeches are supposed to begin promptly at eight-thirty. According to my phone, that’s less than two minutes from now, and he’s not here. The emcee for the evening is awaiting Armstrong’s return before he begins. And then the real party can start. The one where we get to celebrate our commitment to each other as partners for life. As in the rest of my breathing days. Dear God, why does that make my stomach twist?
I sip my white wine. Armstrong pointed out that red is not a good idea with my dress, even though it’s my preference. Besides, I don’t want it to stain my teeth. That would make for bad pictures.
I glance around the hall and see my parents, who are probably celebrating the fact that I didn’t walk down the aisle with a convicted felon. And frankly, so am I. My dating history pre-Armstrong wasn’t fabulous.
The sheer number of people in attendance spikes my anxiety. Speaking in front of all of these people makes me want to drink more, which is a bad idea. Tipsy speeches could lead to saying the wrong thing. I check my phone under the table again. It’s after eight-thirty. The longer Armstrong takes to return, the further behind we’ll get. The music playlist, devised by Armstrong with painstaking efficiency, leaves no room for tardiness. If we don’t start on time I’ll have to take out a song, or possibly two, to compensate for his delay and he’s selected the order in such a way as to make that difficult and that will annoy him. I just want today to be perfect. I want it to be reflective of my decision to marry Armstrong. That I, Amalie Whitfield, can make good choices and am not a disgrace to my family.
“Where the hell is he?” I scan the room and take another small sip of my wine. I should switch to water soon so I don’t end up drunk, especially later, when all of this is over and we can celebrate our lifelong commitment to each other without clothes on. I’m hopeful it will last more than five minutes.
Ruby, my maid of honor and best friend for the past decade, puts a hand on my shoulder. “Would you like Bancroft to find Armstrong?”
Bancroft, or Bane for short, is Ruby’s boyfriend who she’s been living with for several months. Recently I find myself getting a little jealous of how affectionate they still are with each other, even after all this time. Cohabitation hasn’t slowed them down on the sex or their PDA. I have hope that Armstrong and I will be more like Bane and Ruby now that we’ll be sharing the same bed every night.
I’m about to tell Ruby to give him another minute when a low buzz suddenly fills the hall. It sounds like a school PA system. I start to panic—they can’t start the speeches without Armstrong at my side. What’s the point of speeches if the groom isn’t present?
I’m halfway out of my seat, ready to tell the deejay, or whoever is behind the mic, he needs to wait, when a very loud moan echoes through the room. The acoustics are phenomenal in here, it’s why we chose this venue.
I glance at Ruby to make sure I’m not hearing things. Her eyes are wide. The kind of wide associated with shock. The same shock I’m feeling.
Another moan reverberates through the sound system, followed by the words, “Oh, fuuuck.”
A collective gasp ripples through the now-silent crowd. While the words themselves are scandalous among these guests, it’s the voice groaning them that makes me sit up straighter, and simultaneously consider hiding under the table.
“Fuck yeah. Ah, suck it. That’s it. Deep throat it like a good little slut. Fuuuuuccckkkkk.”
My mouth drops and I look to Ruby to ensure I have not completely lost my mind. “Is that—” I don’t finish the sentence. I already know the answer to the question, so it’s pointless to ask. Besides, I’m cut off by yet another loud groan. I clap a hand over my mouth because I’m not sure I’m able to close it, my disbelief is as vast as the ocean.
Ruby’s expression mirrors mine, except hers is incredibly animated since she’s an actress. “Oh my God. Is that Armstrong?” Her words are no more than a whisper, but they sound very much like a scream. Oh no, wait, that’s just Armstrong on the verge of an orgasm. But these sounds are nothing like the ones he makes when he’s in the throes of passion with me.
I clutch Ruby’s hand. The next sound that comes from him is a hybrid between a hyena laugh and a wolf baying at the moon. And every guest at our wedding is hearing the same thing I am. Our wedding. Someone other than me is blowing my husband at my own wedding. My mortification knows no end.
I grab the closest bottle of wine and dump the contents into my glass. Some of it sloshes over the edge and onto the crisp white tablecloth. It doesn’t matter. There’s plenty more where it came from. I chug the glass, then grab Ruby’s.
People lean in and whisper to each other, eyes lift to the speakers. A few people, the ones who are probably just here for the social-ladder-climbing potential, question who it is.
“Is the deejay watching porn?” That comment comes from a table full of mostly drunk singles in their early twenties.
Several eyes shift my way as I carelessly down Ruby’s wine and someone asks where the groom has disappeared to.
The grunts and groans grow terrifyingly louder. This is nothing like what I’m used to in bed with Armstrong. The dirty words aren’t something he ever uses with me, mostly it’s just noises and sometimes a “Right there” or “I’m close,” but that’s about it. He’s never talked to me like he is to the woman currently providing oral pleasure. And I’m very adept at oral. Although with Armstrong it’s very polite, neat oral, with no sounds other than the occasional hum. Slurping is uncivilized and a definite no-no.
I reach past Ruby for the bottle of red since I don’t really give a flying fuck about purple teeth right now. As I sink low in my seat I pour another glass of wine, surveying the people in the ballroom from behind the cover of the centerpiece. The centerpieces are huge and excessive and I don’t like them at all, but at least provides a protective barrier between the guests and my disgust, which I’m certain they must share. He sounds like a wild animal rutting. It is entirely unsexy. I have no idea who he’s getting intimate with, but I’m suddenly very glad it’s not me.
And doesn’t that tell me more about our relationship than it should.
It’s only been about thirty seconds—the most humiliating thirty seconds of my life—before Armstrong comes. How do I know this? Because he says, very clearly, “Keep sucking, baby, I’m coming.”
And “baby,” whoever she is, makes these horrific gurgling noises. It sounds like some form of alien communication. It’s way over the top, and apparently Armstrong is loving it, based on the string of vile profanity that spews from his asshole mouth.
“Holy crap. Is this for real? That was really fast,” Ruby mutters.
I guzzle my glass of wine. Then decide the glass is unnecessary and take a long swig from the bottle before Ruby snatches it away. Wine dribbles down my chin and onto my chest, staining the white satin purple. My dress is ruined. I should be freaking out. But I really don’t care.
“Come on,” Ruby tugs on my hand. “We need to get you out of here while people are still distracted.”
My older brother Pierce and the emcee are standing in the middle of the hall, gesturing wildly to the speakers above us. My other brother, Lawson, is on his way toward the podium in an attempt to do something. I don’t think there’s anything he can do to stop this train wreck from there.
Ruby tugs again, but I’m frozen, still trying to figure out what exactly just happened. Well, I know what’s happened. I just can’t believe it.
The sound of a zipper and the rustle of clothes follows. “Thanks for that, now I’ll be able to last later tonight,” Armstrong says.
“What about me?” A female asks. Her voice is nasally and whiny.
“What about you?”
“Well I helped you, aren’t you going to help me?”
“Didn’t you come with a date?”
“Well, yes, but—” God her voice is familiar. I just can’t figure out where I know it from.
“My cousin, right? He loves my sloppy seconds. Speeches are starting. I gotta get back to my ball and chain.”
Gasps of horror ripple through the room, followed by a few giggles. These people really are assholes.
I think I’m going to throw up. I can’t believe he’s going to come out here and pretend nothing just happened. Like some other woman didn’t just have her lips around his cock. His distinctly average cock. Maybe even slightly below average in length, if I’m being one hundred percent honest.
A door opens and closes.
Lawson turns on the mic behind the podium and taps it, sending screeching feedback through the room, making people cringe. Too bad no one did that a minute ago.
Murmuring grows louder and glances flicker to the head table and then away as Brittany Thorton, a seriously skanky debutante, comes strutting through the doors, using a compact to check her lipstick. She’s made it her mission to attempt to get into the pants of half the eligible men in this room. She’s followed, not five seconds later, by a very smug-looking Armstrong.
“I’m going to kill him.” I grab the closest steak knife, but it appears my hasty, and possibly felonious, plan is unnecessary. My brothers leave their respective posts and stalk toward him. Across the room my mother is gripping my father’s arm, whispering furiously in his ear. Great. Just what I need, additional family drama.
“Oh shit,” Ruby gasps.
I follow her gaze to find Bane converging on Armstrong with my brothers. Bancroft is a tank and he used to play professional rugby. I’ve seen him with his shirt off, he’s built like a superhero and he’ll probably crush Armstrong, or at least break something. Possibly multiple somethings.
For a second I consider that Ruby should probably stop Bane from destroying Armstrong’s pretty, regal face, but then I realize I don’t actually care. In fact, the possibility that he might break Armstrong’s perfectly straight nose fills me with glee. Armstrong’s wellbeing is no longer my concern, it’s more about Bane ending up in prison for murder.
“I hope Armstrong has a good plastic surgeon, he’s going to need it once Bane is done with him.” Ruby echoes my internal hopes and her chair tips as she jumps up. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.” She nods to the right.
I notice my mother and father engaged in a heated discussion with Armstrong’s parents. I really don’t need this right now. Not the drama. Not the humiliation. All I wanted was a nice wedding. Instead I end up with a husband who gets a blow job during our reception—and it’s broadcast to everyone attending.
Ruby urges me into action. “Don’t worry about them. Get your stuff and we’ll get you the hell out of here. I’ll have the limo meet you by the entrance near your bridal suite as soon as I can.”
I nod and stumble unsteadily to my feet, thanks to having consumed the better part of a bottle of wine in the last minute and a half. It’s amazing how ninety seconds can change a person’s entire life.
All hell breaks loose as more men jump in to either pummel or extract Armstrong from the pummeling. I grab my clutch and phone from the table, gather up my stupid, too puffy gown, and head for the bridal suite, where I had prepared for what was supposed to be the most amazing day of my life. And now it’s likely the worst, at least I hope the mortification level I’m experiencing can’t exceed this. I feel like the foulest version of Cinderella ever.
I rush down the empty hall and grab the doorknob as I fumble around in my clutch for the key. I’m surprised when it turns. I thought I’d locked it before we left for the ceremony. Regardless, I need to get away from everyone before I either lose it or commit a felony. Maybe both. Murder in the first. Armstrong will be my victim. And maybe that horrible skank, Brittany.
I thrust the door open and slam it closed behind me, locking it from the inside. Tears threaten to spill over and ruin my makeup. Not that it matters since there’s no way I’m going out there again. I can’t believe my forever lasted less than twelve hours. I can’t believe the man I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life loving couldn’t be faithful to me for even one day. What the hell is wrong with me? With him? I’m as devastated as I am angry and embarrassed. Once I annul this farce of a marriage I’ll become a spinster. I should probably go ahead and adopt six or seven cats tonight.
“I need to get out of this dress,” I say to myself. I reach behind me and pull the bow at the base of my spine. Instead of unfurling, it knots and I only succeed in pulling it tighter. Of course my dress has to be difficult. I growl my annoyance and rush over to my dressing table where my makeup and perfume are scattered from earlier today. Half a mimosa sits unconsumed beside the vase of red roses Armstrong had delivered.
The card read: I can’t wait to spend forever loving you.
What a load of bullshit. I drain the contents of the champagne flute, not caring that the drink is warm and flat. Then I throw the glass, because it feels good and the sound of shattering crystal is satisfying. Next I heave the vase of roses, which explodes impressively against the wall, splattering water and shards of glass across the floor.
I yank out a couple of the drawers and find a pair of scissors. They actually look more like gardening shears and seem rather out of place, but I don’t question it. Instead I reach behind me with my back to the mirror and awkwardly try to cut myself free. It’s not easy with the way I have to crane my neck.
“Goddammit! I need to get out of this stupid dress!” I yell at my reflection. I think I might actually be losing it just a touch now. I stop messing around with the laces in the back and shove the scissors down the front. I nearly nick myself with the blade—they’re a lot sharper than I realized—but that doesn’t slow me down. I start hacking my way through the bodice; layers of satin, lace, and intricate beading sliced apart with every vicious snip.
I just want out of this nightmare.
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