Page 48 of Sweet Venom

Chapter 21

The Viper

I've never felt more fucking lost in my life than I do now, and that's saying a lot. I thought I knew Ellis's heart. I believed him when he said he loved me, and then tonight, when he shared me with Tate, I swear I fucking felt that love deep in my soul. When he kissed my lips right after they had been on another man's cock, my mouth still filled with his cum, I believed with my whole heart everything that he had told me about what our love could look like and what he wanted for us.

But when I sat on the steps and listened to him tell Sebastian about a night I don't remember, one I shared with his brother first, I couldn't help but feel betrayed and used. It had me questioning everything he's told me and his reasoning. Did he only want to share me because he didn't think he was enough? Did he believe that I'd choose Sebastian over him if my memories returned?

It's why I had to get out of that house. I needed space to clear my head and listen to my heart. The irony of me being a runner is not lost on me, but it's because I don't want to feel trapped. I spent years of my childhood locked up, unable to come and go as I pleased. I was utterly alone. Now, here I am, seeking that same solitude I longed to escape for so many years.

Sitting here on the cliff's edge overlooking the ocean, I'm determined to feel everything: hate, love, fear, all of it. Sometimes, growth can only happen through pain. I know that now; it only took a lifetime of running to figure that out.

I'm not sure what was said before I made my way downstairs. All I caught was the tail end of what must have been a reckoning between brothers. I know they had yet to speak before tonight. Ellis hadn't said much about what Sebastian did at the estate, but I knew he was upset. I just couldn't place its roots. While I know he didn't like the marks, that wasn't the only thing weighing heavy on his mind. Part of me considered it regret, but now I know it was disappointment. He knew Sebastian and I had a connection, and hoped our intimate moment would bring us all together.

Closing my eyes, I let my feet hang over the edge as I try to remember the night I met Sebastian. The day, I'll never forget; it's the night that got hazy. I remember going to a club that night. But it hadn't been in my plans. I had just flown in from St. Louis that morning, and I was staying at Mason's. I moped around the house for hours, feeling sorry for myself. The overwhelming anxiety I had over the big choices I'd made, and the way I’d let the people who cared for me the least have the most power, was soul-crushing. I had taken a Xanax that morning to help with the boulder I had sitting on my chest, but as the day dragged on, the pill didn't feel like enough, so I’d popped another.

It wasn't until that second pill hit that I started to get some relief from the all-consuming hurt that threatened to shatter my already-frozen heart. I went to the kitchen and made a drink, adding only a small splash of vodka to some orange juice. I'm well aware I shouldn't drink and take medication. Still, after what I’d witnessed the day before, walking into my father's office to deliver documents forfeiting my inheritance, I didn't give a fuck. I had zero plans of leaving the house. I was sure I'd be okay. Flipping on the music, I started dancing around the kitchen, feeling relief for the first time while I got out all the ingredients to make a quesadilla. That's when I got a text from Charlie asking if I wanted to go out.

Before I could even respond, she texted me a pic of the advertisement for a costume party at a club a few blocks over from Mason's place in Palo Alto. At that point, I was already making bad decisions. What was one more? Plus, if Mason was letting Charlie out, I wouldn't pass up the opportunity for a girl's night. I knew that her sudden freedom to go to a club had everything to do with my best friend knowing I needed it. So a decision was made; I was going out.

When we got to the club, the vibe was fucking hot. They didn't have clubs like that in the mid-west. Techno music was pumping through the speakers. The only lights that didn't strobe or flash came from the glow of the bar and VIP tables around the club. Aside from that, strobe lights flashed over the sea of people to the beat of the music. It was hypnotic, but the flashing lights quickly messed with my eyes. The last thing I truly remember from there was going to the bar with Charlie to grab a drink and wash down some Ibuprofen to stave off an impending migraine. It wasn't until the following day that I realized I hadn't taken any Ibuprofen. Instead, I'd taken more Xanax.

A throat clearing behind me draws me out of my memories, and without turning, I know exactly who is at my back. "Go away, Sebastian. I fucking hate you."

"No more than I hate you." He says, casually without any bite, and something about its delivery strikes a familiar chord as if it's déjà vu.

Stuffing the feeling down deep the way I always have, too scared to touch it, I scold, "You should have told me."

"There's nothing to tell. You either didn't remember or tried to forget. Either way, it meant nothing."

"Whatever. Keep lying to yourself. Just stay the fuck away from me. I'm done playing your games. That's all this ever was for you. It's why you've always called me a viper. You've been taunting me all along." I stand up from the cliff and turn to face him before adding, "You're a fucking coward, Sebastian Lykos."

He reaches me in three long strides, aware that I can't step back, and says, "Don't flatter yourself. I'm not a coward. You don't have anything I haven't already had. Why would I want a spoiled little slut that spreads her legs for anyone who gives her a little bit of attention?"

I slap him hard and say, "You're wrong. I didn't spread them for just anyone. I spread them for you." His words sting because, like most people, if a woman is open with her sexuality and takes what she likes, she's automatically a whore. It doesn't matter that I've had fewer partners than him, but I'm done with letting men like Sebastian think I'm beneath them.

I move to step around him, but he throws his arm out to stop me, and I have to grasp onto it to keep from losing my balance. "Tell me," he grits out, clearly annoyed, but he can fuck off. I'm just as pissed, if not more so, than he is. I didn't ask to be followed out here and berated.

"Tell you what, Sebastian?" I ask as I find my balance and release his arm.

"Tell me how it's possible you don't remember that night," he demands, his patience waning.

"I was drugged." His eyes narrow, and I can tell he's questioning the authenticity of those words. I don't know what happened at the club, how I came across, or what he did or didn't conclude from our conversation. By the time he came along, Charlie had left. Mason had insisted she bring me home, but I’d told her I was fine and wouldn't be far behind her. I said I wanted to walk home, and Palo Alto is a good neighborhood, so she didn't have a good argument against it. It's why I like Charlie. She doesn't push me. Not like the asshole men currently occupying space in my life.

"You're going to need to give me more, Vipera. I was there. You were fine." Was I, though? How fine could I have been that I made such a deeply profound impact on Sebastian Lykos, one that has Ellis saying things like, 'he loved me first.'

"Technically, I did it to myself. Either way, it happened all the same. I'm not the spoiled little rich bitch you accuse me of being. That's just what you're determined to see—"

He cuts me off, holding up his hand to say, "I'm not standing on the side of a cliff with you to listen to you make yourself into some sort of martyr. You think I don't know you gave your daddy his money back because he didn't love you? Big fucking deal. Tell me how you were drugged."

"Why are you such a dick? You asked me a question, and now you don't care to hear my response. I'm done," I say before attempting to push by him once more.

This time, he grasps both my shoulders and pushes me back so much so that the heels of my feet cannot rest on flat ground. "You have a way of twisting my words. I never said I didn't care. Get to the part I want to know, and maybe I'll stick around for the rest."

If looks could kill, he'd be fucking dead. I'm so fucking pissed that I have to will my voice not to crack as my emotions threaten to steal my words. He wanted a martyr; I'll give him one. What he thinks of me doesn't matter anymore.

"I took four Xanax that day, you fucking prick. I have a prescription to help with the PTSD-related panic attacks I get from being locked in my room for days on end as a young child."

I pause and watch as his eye ticks and his jaw clenches. For a moment, I see regret, but it's gone faster than I can blink, and I question if it was ever really there at all. Sebastian had no idea what he was doing to me when he locked me in my room for a week. His fingers dig into the sides of my arms, wordlessly prompting me to continue.

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