Page 4 of Craving Venom
I head to the cafeteria after that, needing a break. The place is packed, buzzing with voices and clattering trays. I find a spot by the window and drop into a chair, letting out a long breath. The quiet feels good.
I’m halfway through zoning out when Trevor, a third-year law student, appears with a tray in his hand. He’s got that easy grin he always wears, the one that’s probably gotten him out of trouble more times than I can count.
“Hey, Faith,” he says, sliding into the seat across from me without waiting for an invitation. “Mind if I join you?”
I look up, managing a small smile even though my head’s still spinning from everything. “Go for it.”
His grin stretches wider, and he leans in, bracing his elbows on the table. “You know, I’ve seen you around campus. You always look like you’re deep in thought. What’s on your mind, huh?”
“Oh, just some psychology stuff and, you know… life.”
Trevor chuckles, his eyes lighting up with easy amusement. “Psychology, huh? That’s pretty intriguing. But you know what’s even more intriguing? Getting to know someone over a cup of coffee.”
I glance at my laptop, Zane’s frozen face staring back at me from the paused screen. The pull to dive back into his world is strong, but Trevor’s still sitting here, waiting for an answer. “Coffee sounds nice, but I’ve got a lot on my plate right now.”
“Come on, Faith. Life isn’t all work and no play.” He leans back in his chair, flashing a charming grin.
“I appreciate the offer, Trevor, but I’ve got something I need to finish.”
For a split second, disappointment flickers across his face, but he masks it with an easy shrug. “Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
He stands, giving me one last grin before sauntering off. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and turn back to my laptop.
Tria plops into the seat across from me, smirking like she’s just watched a soap opera. “Wow, Faith, you really know how to handle a potential relationship situation. You completely blew him off!”
“Not on purpose,” I mumble, but Tria just shakes her head in amusement.
She pushes herself up again, grabbing her wallet. “I’m getting coffee and bagels. Try not to disappear into your dark criminal rabbit hole while I’m gone, yeah?”
“Got it,” I nod, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Take your time.”
Tria walks away and I turn my attention back to the screen. The mysteries and the complexities of human behavior captivate my thoughts, reminding me that there was always more to explore.
As the cafeteria bustles around me, I find myself lost in the sea of articles and information that my laptop screen displays. It’s as if I have fallen into a vortex, driven by an insatiable curiosity about Zane Valehart’s story. This isn’t my usualapproach—I don’t typically immerse myself so deeply in a single case—but something about Zane’s case has ignited a fire within me.
My fingers fly across the keyboard, scouring the web for any juicy bits about his past and the crime that made him infamous. I dig into articles, interviews, and forum discussions, soaking up every detail. The layers of this case are intricate, with twists and turns that keep me both hooked and seriously freaked out.
And then, as I scroll through some forum, I stumble upon a link that gets my heart racing. The site is called “Criminal Archives” and the name just has that ring to it that hits the sweet spot of my obsession. The site seems like a goldmine for profiles of notorious criminals, offering a peek into their twisted lives and minds.
With a racing heart, I click on the link, my curiosity soaring at the thought of uncovering more about Zane Valehart. The page loads, revealing an ominous design. The site’s banner has a badass logo with the words “Write A Criminal” in a bold, sinister font.
I scan the page, checking out the profiles of various criminals, each with a quick personal blurb and a taste of their crimes. And then, like some invisible hand guiding me, my cursor hovers over the search bar.
With a deep breath, I type “Zane Valehart” into the search bar. The results page loads with a list of possible matches. There it is—the profile I am itching for. Zane Valehart’s name is in bold letters, and it comes with a seriously chilling picture of his mugshot.
My mouse hovers over the profile, and I don’t know why but my fingers are shaking. What the fuck am I going to discover in these pages? Before I can dive deeper by clicking that profile, Tria’s voice comes crashing through my concentration.
“Hey, I’m back with coffee and bagels,” Tria announces as she rolls up to the table, with a tray in hand.
I damn near jump out of my seat, slamming the google tab shut in a hurry. My heart is still racing, and the screen now shows the article I’d been looking at earlier. I shoot Tria a grateful smile, relieved that she hadn’t seen what I’d been up to just moments before.
“Thanks, Tria. You’re a lifesaver,” I say, grabbing the coffee and bagels she’d set down.
Tria gives me a playful wink. “You owe me, big time. I knew you’d be too engrossed to take a break.”
She settles into her seat, the rich scent of fresh coffee filling the air, I can’t help but feel grateful for Tria’s knack for reading my moods and having my back. It’s a blessing I definitely don’t take for granted.
As we sip our coffee and bite into the warm bagels, the atmosphere around us feels cozy and familiar. Tria’s playful smile makes it clear that she has something on her mind.
