Page 83 of Tempted By Poison
Ronan’s need for me opens a spot in my heart that I try to contain with loads of clay. But for some reason the clay doesn't hold; it becomes thinner by the day, slowly tipping, causing that brick to fall.
I promised your brother.
I chew on the inside of my lip, those four words replaying in my head, digging deep into my soul, settling all the sorrow I hold regarding my brother. The way he always looked out for, and even before his death, he thought ofme, his sweet little sister. He knew either way he was going to die, and he wanted Ronan, the man I had to despise, to promise him my safety. I sniff back the moisture that’s pooling in my eyes.
I’m distraught.
I want to be furious with Ronan. For keeping this promise from me, for taking my retribution away. I planned this for so long, only for it to slip through my fingers. But it opened up something in my chest, causing my heart to beat louder than a revenge that...Wasn’t even mine to begin with.Itook it on. Carried it as my own, like an old wound. It made me someone strong and powerful...but it also made my heart hateful.
The lock on the door scatters my heart up to my throat. I glance over my shoulder as the knob twists, and Ronan walks in. He looks around, then his hard gaze lands on me. They soften once he sees me, and he walks over with a foreboding look.
He is coated in blood and grim. The blood splatter from my knife attack remains everywhere on him.
He looks disgusting.And wildly beautiful.
“Oi,” I muster out in Portuguese.
“Salut,”he murmurs in French. Gymnastic flips kick in my belly, a rush of heat scorching my face. “Least I can know when you’re threatening me,” he says with a slight tease in his exhausted voice. “Or flirting.”
I glance down, sprinting a smile as the burn hits my cheeks. He’s learning my language.
He sits beside me, but not too close. “Dr. Rio says only minor bruised ribs. You should heal in a couple of weeks.”
Of course, he went to Dr. Rio and probably demanded the diagnosis. I nod. “Yes, he gave me steroids to help manage the pain, and some pills to get high on.” I chuckle at that. Ronan doesn't.
Silence stretches between us for a few seconds.
“Are you upset with me?” He touches my knee and brushes his thumb across it. Tingles erupt at the spot, picking up my heartbeat.
“Yes.” I can hear his breath become shallow. I continue, “I was. Not anymore.” I don’t move my leg. I nudge it closer. I've had enough of pulling away from his touch in one night. Truth be told, I loathe it. The moments he reaches out to touch me—even in front of the team—are the times I really need it.
“I never wanted to take that chance away from you, but I’ll do it again in a heartbeat,” Ronan says confidently. “Not only because of the promise I made to Carter, but.” He watches his hand on my leg, caressing it softly. “Because I care for you more than you realize, Anita.”
A glow mellows in my chest, spreading over me like a coat.I care for you, too.The words are there, but I’m terrified to say them. I don’t understand why he cares for me. I’m damaged, there’s no space for someone to care. Yet, his words envelop me with this peace only he allows me to feel. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, but it’s what it’s become.
“I know,” I whisper, covering my hand over his despite the lingering, dried blood. We look at each other, and something else sits in the pits of my stomach.
“I didn't mean what I said.” I vividly remember the way he stiffened as if I had shot him in the chest. “I was angry, and it was nasty of me.” I squeeze his hand. “I know you, Ronan, and your intentions. I won't question that again.”
“You had every right to be upset. I understood.” Ronan intertwines our fingers. “To make up for it, I have a gift for you.”
I frown, gazing at him, and a sinister smile forms on his lips, curling the laceration. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
Ronan lifts my hand to his lips, applying a soft kiss to my knuckles. As he does, his eyes hood up at me with vicious carnage and says, “To retribution, amor.”
***
Ronan guides me tothe lower level, after some long minutes that it took for him to help me get ready. It made me slightly uncomfortable, not because he was touching me so delicately, but from my lack of strength. Not being able to do it myself is new for me and will take some getting used to.
I stuff my hands into my coat, bunching my shoulders to combat the brisk air. He leads me out into the dead of night, going at a slow pace because of me. We head through the path of thick, inky woods and away from the academy. The air blows past in eerie whistles, the tall trees strong, sturdy with swaying branches, and the leaves rustle in the breeze. Each crunch of the leaves stokes a surge to my heart. Anticipation.What is it?
He says we’re going ‘to retribution,’ and I can't think of what he means by that. I won’t come up with any ideas because that means I’ll have expectations and if they aren't met, it’ll lead to disappointment.
That is, until I see Mal and Boone. Along with a few other students wearing black combat pants and black hoodies. They seem like the older group, called Rampages. They're a little older—possibly eighteen or twenty-one. From what I hear, they’re the ones who graduate after Stygian day and go into the field with their Headman.
Then, my heart knocks hard against my ribs, and the hair on the back of my neck rises.
