Page 49 of Sweet Venom

"The strobe lights at the club started to give me a headache. When I reached into my purse for Ibuprofen, I mistakenly took more Xanax. The amount in my system mixed with the alcohol..." I trail off, shaking my head, "I don't remember anything after Charlie left."

As I hold his obsidian gaze, searching for some kind of tell, I come up empty. Foolishly, I let my heart hope that Ellis's words back at that house held some sort of weight. Stupid heart.

"Let me go, Sebastian. I played your game. I thought some piece of your cold heart wanted me, but all this time, I was only revenge."

His breathing picks up, and his nostrils flare as if my words are testing his limits, but I couldn’t care less because his actions are testing mine. "Go ahead Sebastian. Make your move. You want me gone. Let me go. You'd only be doing me a favor. I spent more hours wishing I didn't exist than your parents spent tripping drugs. I'm done." I wiggle in his grip spurring him on, "Go ahead, drop me. I've always wanted to know what it feels like to fly." He'll either put me out of my misery or I'll call his bluff. Both are wins.

Those unfeeling, empty eyes suddenly widen as his hold tightens, and he says, "Not all wishes come true. Death is for quitters, the feeble-minded, and the faint of heart. You, vipera, are none of those things. You and I were cut from a different cloth. This right here, right now, is what you crave. Misery loves company, and angels like Ellis can’t follow you to hell, so you don’t get to fly.”

Before I can blink, I'm pulled securely into his arms, his mouth on mine as his tongue demands entrance to my mouth, and I grant it as my heart threatens to beat out of my chest from the adrenaline of being on the brink of falling—and not just off a cliff, but for the broken man holding me. The wind gusts up, whipping through my hair and making my body prickle with the awareness of how close to the edge we still stand. Then, I feel him take a step back with me still tightly wrapped in his arms.

His hand runs up my back until it finds the back of my head. Strong fingers wind through my hair as he twists a handful into his grip before tugging my head back to get a better angle as his tongue explores every inch of my mouth. I don't remember our first kiss, but I'm sure it's not this one, because he's kissing me like he missed me. As he plunders my mouth, I can't help but think he's letting go of whatever hate kept him my enemy instead of my love, but no sooner does the thought cross my mind than he pulls back and says, "What if I don't want to share?"

"Then don't," I breathlessly pant before adding, "But you have to make a choice. I can't keep doing this. It's not fair."

Immediately, he releases me and steps back, running his hands through his hair. I know some part of him wants me, and he knows it too, but how much? It's clear he didn't like my response, but I don't need him to like it. I need him to accept it.

For once, he doesn't give me any words, but instead stares through me with those black orbs once again, void of emotion. The man standing before me is one I've never seen. He doesn't have 'fuck off' stamped across his face, and his ordinarily broad shoulders are slumped in defeat. Sebastian is at war. I'm not sure if it's with himself or me, but I'll find out another day, because without so much as another word, he turns on his heel and walks away.

* * *

It's been three days since the anniversary party at Sea Cliff, and things have been good, in fact, better than good. They've been great. On Sunday, the night after the party Ellis and I had some long overdue deep conversations. We walked the beach and talked about everything that had transpired the night before—well, almost everything. I didn't get into details about where Sebastian and I stood while talking. I didn't tell him that his brother basically held me hostage on the side of a cliff, refusing to let me pass until he got his way, but when we got back from our morning walk we found two parachutes in the kitchen with a note on top that read: For when you're ready to fly.

I could no longer keep those details to myself. Ellis was fucking furious. It's the reason I didn't offer specifics to begin with. However, I should have known Sebastian wouldn't let me hide. He never has. Ellis didn't believe that Sebastian would drop me, but the fact that he put me at risk made him sick. Once I finally managed to calm him down, I explained how the entire exchange changed me, and while it doesn't excuse Sebastian's behavior, it may have lessened whatever blow I'm sure Ellis will serve him. But the way I saw it, I was freed.

I’ve spent years in therapy trying to accomplish what one night of hurtful truths and adrenaline achieved on the edge of a cliff at the hands of a man who’s only ever shown me hate. While I had slowly moved past the traumas of my childhood, I still hadn't tackled my heart, and it didn't belong to just one man, but three. I wasn't scared of Sebastian dropping me. I wished for death countless times in my youth, never brave enough to act on the voices that told me no one would miss me anyway. But on that cliff I felt that if death was my fate, so be it. Death would have been easier than facing the unrequited love that awaited me.

Watching Sebastian walk away from me, all I could feel was regret. Suddenly I felt terrible for forgetting, but the guilt was short-lived when I thought of Ellis. Fate was on my side that night. I wouldn't have found the keys to my heart if I had met Sebastian first. Those could only have been gifted to me by one selfless man, who saw my heart before I knew it was there. I've had a push-and-pull relationship with Sebastian from the start. We've loved to hate each other, but what that night made me realize is, what I thought was hate was never really hate at all. It was fear.

I'm no longer letting fear rule my choices. For too long, it's been the reason I run. It will now be the reason I rise. Do I have feelings for Sebastian Lykos? Yes, and I let him know it. The ball is in his court. I've considered the parachutes and overanalyzed the shit out of what they say about where we stand. Sebastian didn't send one but two. Did that mean if I wanted to jump, he would jump with me? Or was it for Ellis? But more importantly, did it mean he was making a choice? In choosing my life, was he also choosing me? When I attempted to wiggle out of his grip, he told me death wasn't a choice I got to make, and then he kissed me, stealing all the breath from my lungs only to leave me standing alone with more questions than answers once more. Regardless I'm done being used. Sebastian can take what I have to offer or leave it. I let him and Ellis share me because I wanted it, just like I wanted everything he gave me in the gym, but I won't let him have it again. Not like that anyway. If he comes back, it's his turn to give me a truth.

As for Tate, I couldn't tell you where we stand. The last time I heard from him was the night of the anniversary party. On Monday, I didn't go into the office. I had to go down to the courthouse to sign a bunch of legal documents for Blush, which took much longer than expected. For some reason, I thought I'd be in and out. Wrong. I spent the entire damn day there. Then on Tuesday my grandmother decided to fly into town. She said we needed to talk. However, no talking was done. Instead, I was her chauffeur and tour guide for the day. Her presence here has caught me off guard.

My grandmother and I don't have a bad relationship by any means. In fact, while I was young, I thought of her as a savior. She would come and rescue me from my father's house, but those memories were through a child's lens. The older I got, the more my discontent with her grew. She knew how my parents treated me and never intervened, at least not in any impactful way. After I turned eighteen, I went away for college, putting as much space between me and my wretched family as possible, and since graduating I’ve maintained that distance. Indie and I do not have the type of relationship that merits her unplanned visit, making it all the more unsettling. When she heard about Blush and the Grand Opening happening in just a few short days, she insisted on staying. I immediately tried to park the car and have whatever tea time it was that she flew all the way to California to have, but all my efforts were thwarted. She's the last thing I need on my plate right now.

Today, employees are coming in to start training, and I plan on following them around to learn with them. I hired a manager last week who has worked about every position in a gym for the past two decades. She genuinely loves fitness. It is her passion, and it shows. When I asked her why she wanted to work at Blush, she said, "I love empowering women and making them feel good. I've never been able to work at a gym where that is the sole focus, and I didn't want to miss the opportunity to be part of something bigger than myself. I believe this gym will change lives, and I want in."

I am not a crier, but I wanted to cry right then. She understood what I was trying to create here, and I hired her on the spot. I have no doubt that I will learn so much from her. While I may know how I want things to look, I need someone who can help execute my vision, and I trust her to bring it to life and make it shine.

"Fiori, I sent Hector upstairs to check on the lighting. I am still determining what could have caused the shortage. Everything was checked out during the inspection. However, the lighting in this soffit was grandfathered in."

Mark and I are both standing under the soffit looking up when suddenly a section of it falls, dropping a ton of pink insulation, dirt, and dust. "Don't open your eyes. Shit, don't open your eyes." Mark says just as I feel hands grab my arm. "Arnie? Arnie, fuck, where are you?" He yells.

"I'm here, boss." I hear Arnie shout out as the heavy sound of boots running across the floor grows near.

"Guide us to the locker rooms. We need to rinse off. Call Chad ASAP and have him check out that soffit. Clear the fucking gym until he gets here. I need confirmation that's not asbestos."

As Arnie guides us down the hall, Mark says, "Do not open your eyes until after you've stood under the water. That old insulation has microscopic slivers of glass in it. You don't want that shit in your eyes."

Arnie stops at the door to the locker room just as I hear, "Fuck, what the hell happened?" ring out behind me. It's Tate.

"Part of the soffit came down on top of her. She needs to get in the shower."

Arnie pulls me forward until Tate says, "Yeah, that's not going to happen. Remove that hand from my girl and go help Mark. I got this."

"Tate," I hiss out in irritation. I'm fucking covered in skin-irritating particulates, and he's over here having a pissing contest with Arnie. Not to mention we haven't discussed us. Sure, he's told me countless times that he and I were going to happen, but that was before Saturday. That was before he was presented with what I was offering. No sooner has Arnie released my arm than Tate's hand is on my lower back, guiding me through the doorway to the locker room.

"Who was in the ceiling? Hector? I'm going to fucking kill him," he says as his hands move to my shoulders and he walks me across the room.

---