Page 34 of The Bitterness of Venom

I feel the heat of his body, but opening my eyes requires too much strength. I don’t even register that he’s unhooked my arms and is now carrying me. Bright light assaults me, and I tuck my face into his neck to hide from it.

My head feels as if I’m fading when he drops me into the shower. I crack my eyes open, looking at Desmond before my world fades.

TWENTY-FOUR

Fuck.

Blaise lays passed out in my arms as I wash her body in the bathroom of the penthouse I’m renting.

I couldn’t think straight when I had her in the chains, which is why I left, but after putting all my frustration into her tight little cunt, she passed out. And as a result, she lays limp and dehydrated. I murmur soothing words as I clean my cum off her pussy.

I heft her into my arms, then I snatch a toweland carry her to my bed. I dry her body, sending a text off to Elisha. He’s in medical school and should be able to get what I need.

I abandon her, drying myself off and sliding some sweats on. I perch on the bed beside her, looking at her naked body on display for me. I can’t help it, I kiss her soft, swollen pussy, and Blaise shifts, moaning. “I’m sorry, Freckles, no more fucking until I get an IV in you.”

Begrudgingly, I get up, pulling the bag of my clothes out and finding a shirt to slip on her. Once that’s done, I cover her up just as a buzzing comes from the front door. I check my phone to look at the security feed. Elisha waits, a backpack thrown over his wide shoulders.

I walk to the door, swinging it open. Elisha glares, stalking past me. “What have you gotten yourself into now?” he murmurs, but halts at the threshold of the bedroom. He turns back to me. “What the fuck, man?”

“You don’t ask questions, just fix her.”

I watch as he turns a coat rack into a makeshift holder for the IV pouch. Didn’t even fucking know there was a coat rack in this place. Blaise moans slightly as Elisha pinches her skin with the needle, sliding it in and taping it down.

“This should help,” Elisha says as he packs his stuff back up. He looks up at me, eyes narrowed. “I don’t know what fucking game you two are playing, but if you can't do the proper thing and make sure she’s hydrated, don’t play at all.”

He leaves with those parting words and as I watch the IV drip, I fight off the ache in my chest that says he’s right.

“I surrendered to you once,but that will be the only time.” The words are whispered in my ear and I jerk awake tofind Blaise looking down at me. Her face has that soft warm glow to it again, but her eyes are murderous.

She stands, pulling on my sweatpants that I abandoned earlier before falling asleep. Her pink hair flies everywhere as she grabs her phone off the counter in the bathroom where I put it. She slips her shoes on, not sparing me a look.

“Where are you going?” I ask lazily.

She flips me the finger and leaves the room. A few moments later, I hear the harsh slam of the door.

I groan, shoving my head under the pillow.

Fucking Freckles.

I almost fall as I slip my feet into my heels. I’m so fucked. I missed his calls, and his texts, for an almost forty-eight hours. Which is how long Desmond kept me locked up. He’s going to add to my debt, and I’ll be fucked for the rest of my life. Fucking Desmond. This is all his fault.

The last message I received from Clint half an hour ago was a little more than threatening. There is no telling what he’ll have me do to make up for my little fuckup.

Cursing under my breath, I throw half my hair up into a claw clip and leave the rest down. It’s the best I can do in the short time I have. I strap my knife to my thigh, pulling my skirt down to cover it. The black SUV waits forme outside my apartment. With a deep breath, I climb in the back. Clint smiles before a black bag is thrown over my face, blocking out all light.

A crowd roarsaround me in an old, abandoned warehouse as sweat drips down my face mixing with the blood coming from my lips.

“Win or die.”

Clint’s chilling words come into focus as I take a blow to the ribs. The girl in front of me is massive, muscles as big as some of the guys I live with, but she underestimated my will to live, to finally see my freedom. I stagger back from the blow, and she turns, roaring to the crowd in a victory scream. And that’s when I strike. I jump on her back, wrapping my arms around her neck and using the momentum to send her flying to the ground. I form a triangle with my thighs around her head. I clamp them together, trying to hold her flailing body still beneath mine, but it proves to be harder than one would think when she sends a fist into my knee. Even if she breaks my knee, I won’t stop.

The noise around me grows louder as I squeeze with all my might. The stench of beer, blood, and sweat clog my nostrils as I breathe heavily. I read one time that a choke-out takes two to three seconds to accomplish, but this bitch must be made of steel because it feels as if I’ve been doing this for minutes.

My legs begin to shake, and I close my eyes.

Just keep going. You almost have her, you almost…

The woman falls limp between my legs, and I’m so scared she’s faking it that I hold on a little longer, squeeze a little tighter, until I can’t anymore. I fall back onto thebloodstained mat. My body limp and weighing down with exhaustion.

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