Page 45 of The Vipers and Their Venom

I take out my pad and write something as we leave the cafeteria. Once we’re in the hallway, I tap Saint and Lex on the shoulders to make them look.

I want to fuck Venom, but we need to make sure she’s on contraception. Don’t want to end up like Kirill and Co.

Saint shudders. “Jesus, no. Last thing I ever want is a kid.”

“I’ll ask her,” Lex says. “I can do it nicely. You two will fuck it up and make her pissed. Also, we can’t let her think we are already planning on screwing her. It needs finesse.”

“Finesse, like telling her she owes us because Zane lost his shit?” Saint scoffs at Lex. “You know, you might not be as smooth as you think you are.”

“Oh, yeah?” Lex glances around and lowers his voice. “I guess I’m smooth enough that I got her gushing all over my hand in the bathroom. A fourth fucking orgasm, and it was her best. That’s how smooth I am. The women love it when I’m nice.”

“Nah, they like my nasty side,” Saint laughs.

They continue arguing, and I tune out. I know why they are the way they are. I think I’m the only person they’ve ever told. We were stoned one night after an epic session with a girl from town, and I asked them if the good cop-bad cop routine was something they’d thought up. Saint went quiet, and eventually Lex spilled.

Turns out it isn’t some pre-thought-out way to get the girls all hot and bothered. It’s their kink for real, and the way they got it is fucked beyond belief.

“Hey, I’m heading to the gym,” Saint says. “Want to come?”

I shake my head. I want to work on my table, and I need some alone time after that scene. If I don’t get time to myself, I get over-sensitized to noise and people and it drives me insane.Going to bug out, I sign.

“You okay?” Lex asks.

I nod.Want to work on the wood.

He nods. “Okay. Later.”

They peel off and head to the gym, and I take the side stairs toward the kitchen area. I’ll head out the side door and slip into the woods there.

I wash the sawdust off my hands and dry them before walking back to the table to admire it. It’s the best piece I’ve done yet. I found the inspiration to try this design for myself from some fancy interior design magazine. It’s turned out really well. I like the smoothness of the entire thing, no hard corners, no jagged edges. Soft to look at, like Vani.

There’s not a part of that girl’s body that is hard. It’s all soft lines and sensual curves. Her personality is a different matter, and she can be feisty when she wants to be. I think deep downshe’s shy. I don’t know her, haven’t spent enough time with her to claim I do, but I watch people. When you can’t speak, you get used to being on the outside, being silent, and observing. I watch peoplea lot,and it means I’ve come to be able to read them quickly, and Vani? Our little Venom? Well, she’s got that fire, and she’s brave. The way she stood up to that prick before I socked him in the jaw shows that much, but she’s sheltered, I think.

When she believes no one is watching, she glances around her all wide-eyed, like a baby bird out of the nest for the first time. A baby bird who can pick locks and hack cameras. What an enigma. I like puzzles. Love them, in fact. She’s a very pretty puzzle. Because of that, she’s the first girl in a very long time to hold my interest.

I put my tools away, clean up, then head back through the woods to the college.

Maybe I’ll have a sleep when I get back to my room. No one knows how tired I get sometimes. The repeated surgeries, the infections I’ve battled, it all takes its toll. Not even the twins know, because if there’s one thing I understand in this life, it’s not to show weakness. I still work out, so I look like a beast, but some days, I ache with exhaustion.

Today is one of them.

I reach my room and open the door to see my mail slid under the gap. Not thinking much of it, I pick it up, toss it on the small table by the door, and head to my mini fridge to grab a drink before I read it.

I settle into the chair at my desk. Chugging back the water, I read the first letter and toss it in the trash can. It’s from the bank telling me I’ll need a new card soon. The second letter is from back home, and I take my time reading it. It’s from my younger brother. He misses me the most because he has to livewith our two sisters now and they drive him nuts. All is good with everyone, but he says our mother is missing me.

My gaze falls on the final envelope, and my heart skips a beat. I recognize the header. Fuck, it’s from the hospital.

I open it with shaking hands and blow out a long breath before letting myself read. My stomach lurches as I try to take in the words, only some of them hitting home.

Futile. Might make matters worse. Risks serious side effects. Drawbacks outweigh the benefits.

Then the kicker.

This surgical board recommends no further surgery. Treatment going forward should be limited to speech and physiotherapy.

Fuck, no.No. No. No.

I ball the paper in my fist, scrunch it tight, and throw it as hard as I can against the wall.

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