Page 153 of Making Choices

The eye roll that greets my whispered promise should be comical.

It’s not… for two reasons.

The first is that he’s likely to lose his shit when I explain why I’m sleeping in his cousin’s bed. But it’s the second reason that truly sets my teeth on edge.

Toker being in my home at five in the morning, making his way up my stairs as quietly as he can, means the shit has hit the fan. If I was needed at the compound for club business, Cub would’ve called me. So, his sneaking around means that he’s here to summon me for something to do with Brutus and the Shamrocks’ vermin problem.

Which will require me to be in the same space as Venom for the first time since he discovered that the Maddison clan had held me and Bebe at gunpoint moments after his Lily had exited my Range Rover. Now, the bullshit story we’ve spun isn’t likely to hold up to scrutiny once Venom wraps up his single-minded pursuit of Brutus and his rats, but it’s done the job so far. The lie has bought me time to work out the full extent of the threat and a way to nullify it before he finds out that he’s been deliberately kept out of the loop.

Of course, I’m failing dismally at this plan… like I am everything else in my life.

“Spill,” Toker demands as soon as we’re at the bottom of the staircase. He places his hand on the butt of his gun, although he thankfully keeps it holstered. The man is a crack shot, so I don’t fancy my chances at dodging any bullet he aims my way. “I better like what you’ve gotta say or I’m gonna make you dance monkey.”

His reference to the dumb stunt he pulled for Venom months ago doesn’t fill me with confidence. Benedict Cherub has a unique way of viewing the world. He’s the most unromantic, pragmatic, and dogmatic man I know. Even when he’s mellowed out after a joint, his rough edges remain jagged enough to cut. He hides his inflexible value system behind jokes, but I know he takes loyalty and brotherhood seriously.

My club brother’s moral code is black and white.

Full stop.

Being around Cherub when I’ve been warned multiple times to back off edges me closer to crossing one of his boundaries. Once I’ve done that, he’ll never let me back onto the other side. Toker’s trust is hard to earn and easy to lose. I figure being abandoned by his mother as a toddler taught him how harsh the world can be a lot earlier than the rest of us learnt that lesson.

He wields that knowledge like an axe.

One lop and your head is separated from your body.

Permanently.

“She’s goin’ off the rails.”

Worry stirs in his steady gaze. “I’m aware.”

“I’m tryna keep her from spirallin’ completely.”

“With ya cock?”

“No.” Shaking my head, I drop my boots to the floor, then set about re-dressing in yesterday’s clothes. “She comes home high as a kite, drunk as a skunk, or both, either passed out or on the verge of it. Alls I’m doin’ is makin’ sure she has someone watchin’ over her when she starts throwin’ up… also tryna minimise the opportunities for her to backslide.” My fear is impossible to hide as I add. “She’s covered in cuts, and I don’t know how to stop her.”

“Fuck.” That single curse contains every ounce of angst that’s been dogging Toker as he plays witness to the best woman we know losing her innate light to her grief. “Didn’t know it was that bad.”

“Well, it is, and I’m not gonna leave her to fight alone.”

“Brother.” Toker claps a hand down on my shoulder. He curls his fingers viciously and his grip bites into my flesh hard enough to make me stiffen. “It’s fuckin’ obvious that she has no idea that you’re lookin’ out for her. Whenever I see you two together, there’s a chill between ya. Not sure what happened before Venom—” Toker lets go of me to make a teeing off motion. “—but I know somethin’ went down after the concert. She’s walkin’ on eggshells around you, and you look at her like you can’t decide if you love or hate her.”

“That’s none’a your bloody business.” The embarrassment that permanently merged with my marrow after she rejected me makes it hard to draw a full breath. It winds around my throat, pulls tight, and strips my lungs of my oxygen. My voice is strangled as I tell him, “I’m fuckin’ furious at her. At Venom.” Rubbing at the back of my neck, I shrug. “At myself.” As I bend down to lace my boots, I mumble, “Somewhere along the way, it all turned to shit, and I don’t know if I’m capable of fixin’ things.”

“Hearts can change, ’specially one as big as Cherub’s.”

“I’m not so sure.” Leaning against the banister once my boots are secured on my feet, I roll my snake bite piercings between my teeth. “’Cause from where I’m standin’ it looks like I’m always gonna be second best… and that’s a position I refuse to accept.”

“Maybe I can clear out the office, and she can move in with me?”

“Fuck no.” My protest is immediate. “She ain’t livin’ above a strip club.”

“Just think some time and space might help you two.”

“The only thing that’ll help us is erasin’ Venom from her memory.”

“Good luck with that one.” Toker exhales noisily. “Look, I ain’t gonna meddle right now, but if it looks like things are gettin’ outta control, I’ll have her moved in with me so fast your head’ll spin.”

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