Page 17 of Venom's Sting

I’ve never heard of that name before, so I ask, “Where’s the name from?”

“It’s French, Guivres are mythical creatures from the Medieval French legends. They have a snake’s body, a dragon’s head, and venomous breath. Seemed a good name for her, though obviously she’s not venomous.”

“Nice to meet you, Guivre,” I say. Hopefully, she’s not the jealous kind and doesn’t mind sharing her home with another woman.

Glancing over his shoulder towards the kitchen, Ven asks, “Are you about ready to eat?”

He helps me off the sofa, I keep my hand over my side because it does still hurt. I gingerly sit down at his tiny kitchen table for two and watch while he plates food for me.”

“Everything looks and smells delicious,” I tell him, genuinely surprised that he can pull something homemade together on the fly this way. The first mouthful is pure heaven. His chicken is tender, seasoned perfectly, and melts in my mouth. “This is the best food I’ve tasted since my mother went missing.”

“Let me guess, you were too busy snapping pictures to learn about cooking?”

I nod, not even trying to deny it. “Although I have zero interest in cooking, I’m a passable baker. My mom even taught me to make fresh bread.”

“You realize what that means, don’t you?” he responds after he swallows his mouthful of chicken.

I take a shot in the dark and reply, “That between the two of us, we can make a delicious meal?”

He’s suddenly all smiles. Pointing his fork straight at me he answers, “Damn straight. That’s exactly what it means.”

“Good thing, I’m your old lady then. We’ll be the envy of all your friends when we invite them for dinner.” I wasn’t sure who knew that we weren’t a real couple, I know his club officers did, but I wasn’t sure about the rest of the club.

His expression lights up at the mention of us acting like a real couple. “They’re all going to be disappointed to find that we’re not a couple after all this is over.” Taking a minute to gaze at me, he shakes his head and does a course correction. “Scratch that. All my single club brothers are going to be thrilled to find out you really aren’t my old lady. They’re always on the lookout for a beautiful woman to try it on with.”

“I thought your club had club girls for that,” I tell him.

A rueful smile settles onto his face. “Many of my club brothers are eager to find someone to settle down with. Most club girls are into variety and the few that are persistently looking to settle down are a little on the dysfunctional side.”

“That’s not a nice thing to say,” I protest, thinking the women who come here to spend time with the brothers don’t deserve to be left out of consideration as potential mates.

One side of his mouth quirks up. “Wait until you’ve met a few of them and you’ll end up agreeing with me.”

We spend lunch in casual conversation and just as we’re finishing up, Rage shows up, insisting upon taking me for myx-ray. He tosses something to Ven before checking out my face again.

“Do I really need to go to the hospital?” I protest. “I feel fine. Really, I do.”

He frowns down at me, his face filled with concern “Yeah, you need an x-ray. Ribs usually heal without any intervention, but we need to know what we’re working with.”

It seems like a lot of fuss to me, but I agree to go with him. I don’t think I have much choice in the matter, given the determined look on his face. If I didn’t agree I’d probably be dragged there screaming and kicking.

Before we leave, Ven holds up the thing Rage brought with him. It’s a black leather vest that says ‘Property of the Savage Legion MC’ on the back. He helps me slide it on and zips up the front. I move around a bit, trying to see how my new armor fits. It’s relatively comfortable and it doesn’t take me long to forget I’m even wearing it.

Chapter 7

Venom

Rage and I take Amy to the local clinic, Rage knows everyone there, so she’s seen super quick, and the doctor orders several x-rays of her ribs. Come to find out, she doesn’t have a fractured rib, thank God. She’s just bruised a bit and is probably gonna be sore for a week or two. The doctor gives her the once over before cutting her loose.

We hurry back to the clubhouse and brainstorm some more about her mom’s case. Before we can get turned around, it’s evening and Amy is wilting like a spring flower. Rage and I exchange knowing looks as we tuck her into bed.

I tell her, “Get some rest and call me if you need anything.”

She’s already falling asleep before we leave.

The moment we step out of my suite, Rage asks, “Are we kicking ass tonight? Because I need to blow off some steam.”

“You know we are, brother. I can’t wait to get my hands on those dimwits, especially the one she called Big Joe. He’s the one I pulled off her that time in the coffee shop. I warned him to stay away and now he’s going to pay the price for not listening.”

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