the poison girl

Spooktober Treat

She found the girl in a club in Tennessee’s underground — a place she had found far more dangerous and seductive than she had ever expected — at a so-called escort service run by a tall man with a rough voice and a rougher hand. Arella (whose name means Angel, ironically) was one of his ‘girls’, so called ‘damaged property’ — she had scars over her back from his hand.

Taken in by her pretty eyes and firey hair, Scarlett gave him her money and spent the night with the girl at her hotel, but Arella never returned to the Stardust. As good as she was at covering her tracks, Scarlett made certain he wouldn’t find her little Angel, the girl she’d taken for her own after a night meant to be a simple one night stand turned into her gentle hands running over the other’s scars, mortified that anyone would hurt something so pure.

of her fractured self and the lies that she’s told

When they robbed her of her infinite smile

Nicole gave a nod when the redhead muttered something about visiting a bar and for her not to go anywhere. 'I'll try my best.' A soft hum thrummed in the back of her throat as her sharp blues watched the woman walk and allowed her gaze to shift - scanning the room. Oh, bingo! There was her target. An overweight man in his mid-forties and damn, this tuxedo top looked like it was ready to pop. Though there was another sight, off to the right of her target - some young and attractive woman who seemed to glare in her general direction. Er, someone behind her, maybe?

"You're not going anywhere, bird. Archer wants to see you." That's fucking impossible because Archer is fucking dead. Her hand went to her gun. Or where it should have been. But wasn't. And I can't reach my spare. Why did I think it was a bright idea to hide it there?

"I have no business with Archer anymore." Her voice was flat. "Especially not here. Now if you wouldn't mind--" He grabbed her arm and shoved her against the wall, leering over her, casting a dark shadow. She set him in a steely gaze, not one to be intimidated by such tactics. She acted nonchalant, as if it didn’t bother her, but her heart had just jump-rocketed and it wasn’t planning on coming down soon.

“I think you know exactly what I'm talking about, Diana.”

Her blood went cold. "You need to leave me alone. There is a room full of party guests just outside that door, and I don't think they want to end up cleaning up your insides. I don't know what you're going on about, but I killed Archer with my own hands, I watched the life drain out of his eyes. Archer is dead."

He laughed. "Or so you remember. But you don't always remember things correctly, do you, bird? Like your white rabbit. You don't know anything about him. You don't even know his real name. For all you know, the Archer you killed could have been some random guy off the street. For all you know, your little white rabbit could be Archer, and you could be falling into more than just a hole to wonderland. You could be following him straight to your grave."

"I'm touched that you're so concerned for my safety." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm, and she freed her wrist from his grasp, turning to leave. "But I can handle it myself, actually." His voice stopped her in her tracks.

"I don't think you would like it very much if Arella ended up dead." She froze. The fight and pride drained out of her body. She turned to face him, her target forgotten.

"How do you know about Arella?" Her voice was flat, her eyes dark with fear. "If you touch her, I will personally rip you limb from limb, tear your heart out, and make you eat it. And you would know I live up to my threats." He returned with a cool smile.

"Like I said. Archer wants to see you. Tonight. At his house. You know the address." She met his eyes, almost pleading. Anything but her angel.

"Screw you." She hissed out, turning to go back out into the crowd, knowing he knew she had made her decision. Flustered, now, she turned herself back to the task at hand. Her target was still there.