Black Iris

The best.

Iris

Blake was not happy when we got home from the first day of trial.

We went to our lawyers firm first, to be debriefed by the team, and talk about the following day. He stayed at least cordial for that. The lawyers, the weren't concerned. The afternoon had unfolded how they wanted, and our opening statement was just what we had planned.

"As for the calls for a criminal trial, it's unfounded," Johansson told us. "There is simply no evidence to justify anything but a civil case. It won't go anywhere, and the media will grab it for a minute but it will die down by tomorrow night, so it's nothing to be scared about."

But despite the reassurances, Blake was scared. And when he got scared, he got angry. And when he got angry, he got violent.

So the moment we got home, I excused myself to my room and shut the door. Then, I dragged my dresser across so it was blocked, and he wouldn't be able to get in.

Then, I collapsed against the bed and let myself break down. Meanwhile, I could hear Blake in the apartment. The clink-clink of liquor bottles. The slamming of doors, and muttering under his breath. I heard him put on the TV, to what sounded like F1, then just yell at the screen.

But the most disconcerting was when he went silent.

Because then, I didn't know where he'd gone.

It was sometime after midnight when I heard heavy footsteps outside my door. He knocked, which was unexpected. Then, he spoke.

"Iris," he called in a singsong voice. He sounded very drunk. "Don't you want to come have a drink with me?"

"I-I'm okay," I stuttered out.

"Pet, come on. Come out here and let's commiserate together. Celebrate the fucking amazing day we had."

"Blake, please," I called out, trying to conceal my fear. "Go to bed. It'll be better in the morning."

He chuckled. "Oh, will it? Nah, I don't think so. I think it will be even more of a shit show in the morning."

"Blake," I pleaded.

"Or haven't you been reading the headlines, Iris? Watching the news, seeing all the glorious things exploding online right now. Oh! I have an amazing tweet. You'd love it, Gwen. Let me read it to you."

I didn't like the sound of that.

Blake cleared his throat and started talking, his tone gradually growing more bitter.

"Guinevere West being pulled aside by security is the most interesting thing to happen all day. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she's snitching on Blake."

My chest sank, fear flooding my veins.

"Ooh, or this one," Blake said. "Metal detector malfunction? Nah, security's flagging that bitch as a rat."

"Blake-" I choked out. "You don't believe them do you?"

He laughed darkly. "I don't know what to fucking believe, Gwen."

"Blake, you know me," I said desperately. "Please, sir. You know, I would never disobey you. After everything I did to you, I would never betray you."

He was quiet for a moment, then, in a smaller voice he said, "Come out then."

"Huh?"

"Come out here and say that to my face."

It's a trap. He wants you to go out so he can punish you, I thought.