Page 29 of The Bitterness of Venom

He’s engaged.

Regret.

You hate him.

Regret.

He tried to have you killed to entertain himself.

Regret.

I release a pent-up breath, pulling off my glasses and putting them on my nightstand. Rolling over, I face the window. Regrets or not, I wouldn’t change a single thing.

That’s the fucked-up part.

TWENTY

I’m holedup in my room the next evening, working on my psychology work. I’ve always been curious about the mind. How it works, the emotions behind it. What makes people who they are. What makes themtick.I knew that I must have a plan B if hockey didn’t work out. Whether that is due to me sucking—which I don’t—or simply an injury taking me out and ending my career before it even starts. That’s why I didn’t sign my sophomore year. I want the education, the backup plan, something to do when I retire.

I’d like to work with professional athletes. Help them withthe stress of the games, the fame that comes with it. I’m thinking about my future, when Jasper calls out, “Visitor, D.”

I frown, setting my pen down and looking to my door with disdain. I don’t get visitors. Most people steer clear of me. But I hear the annoying, high-pitched voice a second later. The noise makes me want to stab my fucking eardrums with the pen on my desk. I hate that voice—loath it, even.

My door swings open, Krystal making a dramatic entrance as usual. Her dark hair lays in waves around her shoulders. An extremely tight dress clinging to her malnourished body. Her collarbones protrude, delicate and sharp. Her arms are so small I wonder how she holds her large, designer bag up. Krystal, in all sense of the word, is beautiful. She would make any man weak in the knees with one glance—any man but me. Because I know her personally. And her personality is as fun and exciting as a used condom.

Krystal is someone like Blaise. I’ve known her my entire school life. We grew up in the same town, same social circle. I’ve known I was supposed to marry her since I was sixteen, and yet, I’ve never allowed my dick anywhere near her. Instead, I chose to lose my virginity to an older woman. Krystal was heartbroken when she learned this, and that began the twisted relationship we have till this day. She sends me videos each time she sleeps with someone new. And I continue to not give a fuck. I think she still holds out hope we will live some stupid fairytale life. Can't wait to snap her reality. Again, she knows the score, but refuses to accept it.

“What do you want?” I ask in a bored tone.

She tosses her bag on the bed, following closely behind it. I have to fight the groan that wants to break free. I was hoping she would simply speak her mind and then leave. I should have known better.

“Don’t be so excited to see me, Desi.” She pouts, crossing her legs over one another.

“I never am,” I deadpan.

She waves me off, her ring finger glistening with an engagement ring she bought herself with her daddy’s money. I don’t care what she wears because in my mind, it doesn't mean shit. Uncrossing her legs, she looks at me. “I heard a rumor.” She sings the last word, as if that makes her less annoying.

I raise an eyebrow, picking up and tapping my pen against my psychology book aggressively. “Yeah?”

She purses her lips, her façade dropping quicker than her pants at the first sight of attention. “I heard a little friend of ours is in town. Apparently, you two have been rather…cozy.”

If writing my name in her virgin blood is cozy, then hell yeah, we’ve been cozy as fuck.

I drop my pen, allowing my body to slouch in my chair as my hands fall to the armrests. “I’m going to tell you the same thing I told you when we were kids. Stay away from her.”

She huffs, standing on her stripper heels and marching toward me. Her floral scent assaults my nose, it’s nauseating. It always has been. And when she sets her boney body in my lap, wrapping her skinny arms around my neck, I almost snap.

“Desi.” She combs my hair with her catlike claws. “You know I won’t hurt your little charity case, but I am worried. She has always been yourweakness.”

I’m about to toss her on her ass and tell her to mind her own business, when my door opens.

“Rickman.” My last name breaks off and I look over Krystal’s shoulder, spotting the little, pink-haired spitfire. Her mouth hangs open, anger pooling in those peacock eyes as her hands curl into fists. And Krystal, she loves it. Raking her fingers through my hair and peppering kisses along my jaw. She knows there is no other way I would allow her to even touch me. I’m nauseous just allowing it now. But Blaise’s reaction makes it worth it.

“Don’t be jealous, Freckles. I have room for you on this side.” I pat my free leg. She mouths a “Fuck you” beforeslamming the door shut.

I push Krystal to the floor, turning back to my work hoping to ignore her. “You can have as many playthings as you want, Desmond. But remember, you’re mine.”

“Out,” I bark.

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