Fully English

CHAPTER 41

I am escorted to the top floor of the house to a guest bedroom, just metres away from George's room down the corridor. Here upstairs, both he and I have our own quarters – he having his own bathroom and shower connected to his bedroom as did I. Alone, in my en-suite, I take a shower and dry myself off with the fresh towel and dressing gown hanging from the rail.

I have padded to the bedroom and changed into the nightgown laid out for me when I hear a knock at the door.

George appears, wearing a cute oxblood pyjama set with stripy trousers and a smile. Barefoot he walks over to me, takes my towel from my fingers and embraces me. I feel him breathe in my scent and relax before he reveals a satin cap that matches my gown.

"You brought it," I excite.

I'd texted him just an hour ago requesting he brought me a cap to cover my hair since I'd forgotten mine.

"Of course."

At the vanity mirror, I begin to wipe off my makeup and he watches me as I wrap my hair and stretch it over my weave. It's like a throwback to prom night when I was in my mother's bedroom except instead of having Reece as my spectator, it is George.

Seductively, I turn around and smile at him.

"You like?"

He nods slowly and I turn on the lights of the vanity mirror, turn off the main one to create an ambience. I walk over to him and straddle him seductively. I feel him hoist me up and amble to the wall before kissing me deeply.

"You know I love you," he breathes.

The room is so old-fashioned that what should be a dull thud against the wall creaks the entire quarters and we stop, fall into fits of giggles and compose ourselves. In the darkness, I feel his face and position it so it is in front of mine. The purse that I had brought with me was in the cabinet near the bed: inside was the fatal joint that Damon had wrapped and I had licked to seal. There was a pack of pills kept a deep hidden pocket that I was instructed to administer with an alcohol.

I wasn't sure what substances were in either of them but I knew it was a lethal combination. The moment he ingested both, he was a goner and it would be a waiting game for him to expire. I know I have to take a picture of him as proof of death for Damon and Otis before calling for help. I must confirm he is dead – weak pulse and no breathing as consolidation of death.

Apparently it was to be a quiet death. If I was lucky it would happen in his sleep.

My own blunt – the safe one – was in a separate pocket with the lighter so I wouldn't mix the two up. To ensure I didn't raise suspicion, I'd have to behave as insane as he so as to appear like we were in the same state. Some of what was in his joint was in mine so the hallucinogenic effects would be similar but mine was to a much lesser, non-fatal degree.

"I love you too George," I insist.

I am not lying either.

"Thank you for coming," he cups my face and steps back. "And dealing with my crazy family."

I follow him to the bed and we both get comfortable.

"They're not crazy," I say. "Trust me, I know crazy and they don't compare."

Both content and full from eating, we settle ourselves onto the quilt and pillows. Our bodies nestle against one another as we stare at the dark ceiling.

"Why? Is your family crazy?"

I snort. "You don't want to know."

My hand draws to his chest and I rub it affectionately. "I want to meet your folks."