Page 192 of Beautiful Venom
The trembling returns.
The realization.
The doomsday feeling.
Kane killed his father. He shot him in the head in a cutthroat, emotionless way. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t think twice as he killed his own father.
For me.
No.
Becauseof me.
What have I done?
He tilts his head in my direction, his eyes sharp, his expression cold.
My jittery insides quiver, and I feel so small in the vast bed, my emotions jumping all over the place, flaring up and detonating like a box of matches.
“You’re awake.” He speaks slowly, with no emotion.
He’s like that demon from the initiation. The unfeeling monster I couldn’t reach inside of, no matter what I did.
My heartbeat quickens as he walks toward me at a deliberately slow pace, the sound of his footsteps echoing in my chest.
“You feel better?” His words are monotonous. Robotic, even.
I don’t even pay attention to my bandaged wrists or the warm bathrobe covering me. The pain doesn’t matter anymore. Not when he’s looking at me as if I’m a stranger.
“Kane…”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry about your father.”
“I’m not. I would’ve eventually gotten rid of him, but this came earlier than calculated.” He stops at the foot of the bed, both hands in his pockets.
He’s towering over me.
Intimidating.
It makes me tremble, despite my attempts to rein it in, push it down. Put on the façade I wear so well.
But right now, I can’t.
“I believe you ought to be sorry for something different, Dahlia.”
I flinch, my fingers sinking into the sheets.
He knows.
Right. Grant promised to tell him everything.
“I…” No words follow. What am I supposed to say?
Am I even allowed to say anything?
“You’re what?” He seems larger, taller, and nothing like the Kane who held my hand while I goofed around in my hometown.
