Page 86 of Tempted By Poison
Anita
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Location: GenCre BoxingGym
Operation: Wicked Mal is a pain in my ass.
Two days later
Wicked jabs the heavy punching bag, right hooking and uppercutting it like it's an actual person. I sit on the bench, wishing I can do something besides wallow in my own injuries or sit around Ronan’s empty home watching TV that I haven't watched in years. I went from being someone who's always on the move, to on bed rest on account of bruised ribs.
The boredom was so painful; I was almost tempted to read one of the books on Ronan’s shelf in his bedroom. When Wicked knocked on the apartment door, relief swarmed my bruised body so intensely that I could've hugged her. Though, I would never admit that to her.
Since Ronan left off to handle his agreement with Jax, he had her stay back to, yes—babysit me. I snarl at Wicked, who delivers as many quick punches as she can. How come she gets to move around like nothing happened to her?
I kick my feet out, crossing my ankles. “You lucky bitch. You get stabbed, yet you can move and jolly around like a cat, and me, I’m damn near immobile.”
“It's because I’m basically a cat, ninety-nine lives and all.” She jabs the hanging bag, glaring at it.
“It's nine lives,” I drawl, rolling my eyes to the ceiling.
“Don’t be like that, Cinderella. You’ll get to move around in no time. I’m sure Ronan would love that.” She grins at me with a wink, then uppercuts the bag again.
My heart skips several beats with a yearning bubbling in my stomach.Ronan.There's nothing like hearing his name, and my body takes flight like I’ve jumped into a pool of pretty pink roses. She’s right. Ronan would like that, and so would I. Very much. After that beautiful ceremony, aka Victor's death. Ronan’s clean-up crew put out the blaze, and Victor’s body was so deteriorated that you couldn't tell he was a human being. They dug a ditch right there and tossed his remains into the ground. I’m sure they can put some flowers there as a reminder of our celebration. Whoever said you wouldn't find satisfaction from your revenge is a damn liar. I felt fucking euphoric.
Afterward, Ronan escorted me back upstairs at a snail's pace. It didn't bother me anymore because I was enjoying his hands on me, catering to my wellbeing. I was so high from what he’s done for me I was practically gawking at him like my knight and dark armor. It didn't stop there; once back at his home, he took me to his room, stripped me of my smoke-filled clothes, and laid me down on my stomach on his bed. I didn't even think to tell him to take me to my room. I let him lead me where he wants me to be.
He used the healing cream that Dr. Rio gave me and massaged the bruises covering my back, watching me the whole time with that possessive gaze. I was wrapped completely in his vortex until he shared with me disappointing news.
“What do you think about our little discovery?” Mal huffs, swinging her sweaty arms to her side.
I bite down on my teeth and release an exasperated sigh. I hate that after everything, Victor wasn't the end to it all.
“I don’t know.” There are so many questions spinning around in my head. Ronan informed me Victor wasn’t the one to coerce the kidnapping, but someone else hired him to do it—or they potentially work together? From what Ronan explained to me, Victor laughed and said, ‘When he finds out, he's going to wish I had killed you.’ What does that mean?
It's all confusing, which makes me anxious and frustrated that I have no clue who we are dealing with. Who is this person? Is it a man or woman? Do I know them?
What if it is someone I know?
Perhaps it's just an idiot who likes to fuck with people's livelihood.
Mal jabs again, then kicks the bag with her good leg. “One way or another, we’ll find that asshole and everyone else involved in this shit. We’re going to shut them down for good.”
I thought thiswasfor good; this was supposed to be my time to be free for once and complete the task my father set out for me. As fucked up as it sounds, I wanted to put the past behind and start fresh. Victor's death was supposed to be that.
Now everything has changed, I've tapped into an underground organization that makes a difference in the world, that helps people. It was a feeling that I have never experienced, freeing those kids, getting them to safety. I did something meaningful, something that mattered.
Can you be the new women's self-combat teacher?
“You’re quiet.” She stops hitting the bag and looks at me, unwrapping the bands on her hands. “Speak or for—”
“Forever hold your peace,” I chime with her as a heavy breath flows out too. “It's nothing.”
“Not, nothing.” She flops beside me, still undoing the wrist wraps. “You can talk to me, you know.”
A shiver hits my nerves, and I look at her to see her motive there, but she gazes back with sincerity in her eyes. You would never know she would look...not so wicked.
I flick my thumbs over one another, considering her offer. I don’t share my feelings, especially expressing them openly. Spilling your feelings means building connection— building connections means forming bonds and friendships. Which could lead to trouble if you become too attached and you leave, or they die. But holding in that fear, keeping that rule close to me, left me...alone. Ronan proved that even in the world of our chaos, you can still have family, blood or not.
