Page 59 of Sweet Touch of Venom
I don’t have anything to hide, all my dark and sick ways I accept it now. She may or may not like it, but this is me. All of me. I have no shame inthisside of me. I lean down, gripping the man’s jacket collar and lifting him off the ground to drag him.
“I want to be there,” she rushes out, stepping forward.
I can’t help my surprise. I shouldn’t be, since she is the one who left the man at that house nearly decapitated. I hated the person who, I thought, got in the way of my kill, but now I know it was from her and I want to see her in action.
“Fine with me.” I began dragging the guy away, and she trails behind me. I’m normally looking forward to the screams of the men, but all I can envision is the twisted shit this beautiful snake has up her sleeve for him.
* Deslumbrante- Gorgeous
Chapter 23
Venom
Location:
GenCre Academy
Operation: Forget everything that happened tonight
Istep out of the shower, my body scrubbed thoroughly and free from any blood that may have splashed on me. That’s the one thing I hate most about this gig.
Meanwhile, Ronan seems to have no problem with it. He’s a maniac. And he doesn’t give a damn, either.
But tonight was long and exhausting. Ronan was on that wall. A stab lurks into my heart, of that reminder. If he’s on the wall of victims, then they are after him for something. That worries me—whether I like it or not. And those kids are soon to be victims, and that’s sickening. It was easy to hear about it and move on. To know somewhere in this world this is happening, but I’ve always stuck to my own goal, sticking to my own shadow.
Yet now that I’ve seen it. I can’t unsee it.
I walk out of the bathroom, grabbing my black checker box pajama shorts, black tank top with a skull face and its tonguesticking out. I get dressed, my thoughts still on the pictures on that wall.
Damn it, those poor kids… They don’t even know their lives are being targeted. And what do they want with Ronan?
I guess that's a easy answer, he’s the man who’s been shutting down their sick operations.
Thinking too much on it has fatigue taking over my body, but I still want to at least grab a cup of tea to take the edge off. Compliments to Scarlette, who secretly filled my luggage with soothing herbs. I pick through the chamomile, ashwagandha herbs, and loose tea bags on the dresser before heading to the door.
I wonder if I let Ronan really think it was weed, would he have kicked me out or smoked it with me?
I chuckle to myself, strolling out of the room, but stop immediately. My heart flutters in my throat. Ronan stands at the large bay window in the living room, looking out. He’s holding a bottle of water, and his head turns subtly, only peering at the corner of his eyes. He faces back forward, before drinking the water. I continue to the kitchen. Neither of us speak, and the room begins to fill…strange. Like static buzzing on the TV and you’re waiting for something to appear. Normally, I would keep to myself because I prefer it that way. No engagements, or weird conversations. However…
“Can’t sleep?” I ask, filling my skeleton cauldron mug with water and placing it in the microwave.
“Tonight’s one of those night when the noise… is too loud in my head,” he responds, releasing a heavy sigh. Without thinking, I stroll to the cabinet, grabbing another mug, filling it with water.
“They say meditation helps,” I say randomly. Andthey sayis correct because I have no fucking idea, I’ve never done it myself.I’ve only seen Kyra engage in it. But it’s something to say to fill the awkward silence.
“Meditation,” Ronan repeats lower, tossing the bottle on the sofa with a stretch to his neck and shoulders. He strolls over to the sofa, stretching his arms and long legs out comfortably.
He looks off into the distance in front of him, his sight on nothing but the trees. I’m privy to it. You’re not exactly looking at anything, only the thoughts from your earlier chaos, taking hold and choke slamming you to the ground. Thinking of everything that you could’ve done right, and everything that went wrong.
It’s why I drink tea. It helps.
The microwave beeps. I take my mug and place the one for him in it. I said I wasn’t going to use this kitchen tocookhim anything. Making tea is different. I would do it for anyone.
Lies, no I wouldn’t.
After I fill the bags, I grab the honey and squirt it into the cups, stirring until everything’s dissolved. When I’m done, I take both mugs and dip the bags into the steamy water.
I reside out a low and subtle breath, my heart pinching and beating from the unknown. What if he denies the cup, or worse, tastes it and nearly gags? Or even worse, has an allergic reaction.
