Page 72 of Craving Venom
I force my throat to push air through my vocal cords and try to break the silence that’s suffocating me. “Tria.”
His head tilts. Just slightly.
My stomach fucking drops.
I can’t do this.
I can’t fucking do this.
My brain finally catches up. He’s in prison. There is no way he can be here.
None.
I’m drunk and my brain is playing tricks on me, and I need to get my shit together before I spiral in the middle of a crowded bar.
I swallow hard and try again. “Tria.”
Nothing.
Jesus Christ.
I tear my eyes away, whip my head to the side, and grab Tria’s arm in a death grip. My nails sink into her skin as I shake her, hard enough that she stumbles into me.
“What the fuck, Faith?” she snaps, jerking back.
“Look,” I rasp. “Look at the bartender.”
Tria’s annoyed gaze flicks past me. She doesn’t freeze. Doesn’t gasp in horror. Doesn’t react the way she should if she saw what I saw. Instead, she smirks, giving me a slow once-over.
“Damn,” she says, grinning. “He’s hot as fuck.”
My stomach knots.
“I can totally see you banging him tonight,” she adds, bumping my shoulder.
I dare to look again and I exhale so hard I choke on it.
Because it’s not him.
Just a guy. A guy with a normal set of eyes, with a normal amount of menace, which is to say, none.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I shove a hand through my hair, dragging my fingers down the back of my neck to ground myself. I’m losing it. Either that, or the tequila is fucking with my head in ways it never has before.
“You okay?” Tria asks, nudging me.
“Yeah. Just… thought I saw something.”
Tria rolls her eyes. “Babe, you need another shot.”
I laugh, but it’s forced. Stiff. “No, I think I need water.”
“Well, good timing, because Xaden just texted. He’s meeting us at the House of Illusions.” She wiggles her brows.
“Let’s go, then.”
I don’t wait for her reply. I just grab her hand and pull her into the crowd, away from the bar, away from the bartender, away from whatever the fuck just happened.
