Page 42 of Rawest Venom

“I don’t think Cal’s into me anymore.”

Dash’s eyes dart to the ground, searching for some unknown answer. He swallows as if he doesn’t want to know, but asks anyway. “Did you sleep with him too soon? Nerds like him probably don’t?—”

“No!Please. I understand what I’mdoing, I just…” How can I put it? “I think Dot needs to pull me out. We should abort mission.”

Dash’s jaw clenches harder this time. “Is there someone else?Howcan he not be into you? The damsel in distress shit, the red hair, the lavender. You stink, by the way.”

“No, there’s no one else. I think he just lost interest.You know how guys do. We should reassess how to go about this.”

His large hand holds his chin as he stares me down with ferocity. “Zero, you understand that if you abort mission, there’s no more use for you. I care about you like, like a little sister, and I don’t want to see you go.” Stepping into me, his palms grip my shoulders as he leans down to whisper in my ear. “They will fucking kill you. You understand that, right?”

Nodding, I say, “I thought we could just change the mission. There must be an easier way to get the information. I’ve already been on several training trips for him. Look, I’m even going to bring him back some mushrooms like a good prodigy when I go home. I cangetthe information, but I just don’t want to—” Biting my lower lip, I fear I’ve revealed too much.

“Don’twantto what? To complete your mission? Seduce Cal and get the information we need? Zero…since we found you, you were trained to behis. If he doesn’t want you, that’s on you. What good is a spy if she doesn’t follow orders?” Pausing, he grips the back of my hair, forcing my face to look at his as he growls, “Zero, they will forcemeto end you. Do you understand that?”

His eyes appear glassy, as if he’s panicking at the thought, full lips so close to mine, he huffs warm breaths inside my mouth. Maybe he does care about me. Or maybe he’s just an impressive liar. “I’ll follow orders.”

“Do whatever thefuckit takes to get Cal back.” Releasing my hair, he steps away, and I pull the hood ofmy sweatshirt back over my head. “Maybe do that thing with your…you know.”

Shaking my head, I don’t get his meaning.

He sighs as if it’s a chore to respond. “Clutch his dick with your tight twat like you do.”

A gasp leaves my mouth. “That wasinvoluntary, Dash.”

His thick lips lift into a conceited smirk. “’Cause my dick was so good.”

“Please,” I say, rolling my eyes. But he was right, and I fuckinghatedit. “You’re a sick fuck to call me your little sister and then bring that up.”

“I said ‘like a little sister.’ ‘Like.’”

Cringing, I reply, “Still…”

Dash is all about the mission. I understand. Our lives are not like other people’s. We can’t form authentic bonds or relationships. It’s about need in the moment when you have one. At one time, we needed each other, and he no longer has a need. For me anyway.

I’m an object to be used, always have been. A toy. Plastic and unreal. It’s how I’ve survived for so long. There were once thoughts and feelings I could claim to be my own. What was once manipulations became identity. Then personal identity stopped having any meaning. It wastrainedright out of me. Survival may not hold any value soon unless I can accomplish my goal.

There is one thing that I dared to makemine, a solitarything, a blip of a memory I hold on to when I start to forget why I’m still on this planet. Something they couldn’t take away from me, couldn’t get to. I don’t even think of it now, not in the presence of Dash. Neverallowing myself to fully remember the scene, I usually only get the flash of the faded thought before I let it pass, but it’s enough to keep me going. Enough to make me pursue a sick, perverted hope of something different from the mold I’ve been poured into.

Even becoming my own person is terrifying. I can’t even dare to ask myself who she is or whatshereally wants. If I spend too much time on that, I’ll fail my assignment.

Nothing true survives.

Without a word, we part ways by turning on our heels and walking in opposite directions. As I wander through the woods, I allow my thoughts to work out exactly how I can force the next steps of my plan. Tugging out my handkerchief, I gather a few mushrooms spotted under a warm log. I place the wrapped goods in my pocket and start on the miles left to get home.

Before exiting the land through the back, however, a snap of a twig stabs my ears. My body freezes from instinct. Light steps let me know the figure is small and coming straight for me at a fast pace. There’s a choice: sprint away or turn and fight.

I choose the latter.

Spinning, I use my leg as leverage to trip the lithe figure aiming to tackle me, but she dives over it at the last second, landing in a roll on the moss-covered ground. Without giving her a chance to recover, I jump on guard, but she quickly pushes me off with a twist of her hips. I know this tactic. This is Alpha.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

If she saw me with Dash, my life is over. If she didn’t, there’s a chance I can play innocent if I run away, scared. Jane would be scared. She doesn’t know how to fight.

So that’s what I do. Alpha may be tough shit when it comes to scaling cityscapes, but I’m faster on foot in the open space, especially in the woods.Mywoods, my home. She is on my heels for the first five hundred yards but can’t keep up when I weave through several trees, hopping over downed logs and even adding a screamed “Help!” here and there. As if I’m terrified. At the forest’s edge, she gives up, and when I believe she’s out of reach, I shimmy up into a tree to wait for her to leave.

Fortunately, I don’t have long to wait as I contemplate what her end goal was. Did she follow me? Has she already informed Cal of my tryst with Dash? He didn’t even have his mask on tonight. We were sloppy.

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