Page 65 of The Vipers and Their Vendetta

“As long as you’re not running off to be with Saint.” Angelica’s gaze is accusatory. “He doesn’t give their number out easily, and I bet he’ll want something in return for his so-called help. But just remember, no one ends up coming out of an encounter with the Vipers unharmed. Reagan might have been the most extreme example, but she’s not the only one they ruined with their disgusting ways.”

I give a strange kind of laugh. “God, no. The only thing I want is my bed. Alone.”

“Okay, girl,” Faith says. “Do you want us to walk you back?”

“No, I’m fine.”

Faith stands and gives me a hug. She whispers something in my ear, and I’m sure it sounds like ‘stay strong’ or ‘be strong,’ but I’m not sure. I give her a smile and nod to show I appreciate her concern.

The other girls say goodnight as well, and then I leave the bar to head back to my room.

My mind is whirling, and I’m not sure I should have told them about Reagan. I might be about to find out who I can trust.

CHAPTER 24

Saint

Vani’s drunk,and if she thinks she’s going to wander around the college alone, she can think again.

I hang back, staying around the corner while she says goodnight to the other girls. I can hear the slur in her words that tells me she’s had too much booze. I hate that she was fucking crying as well. For a moment back there, I’d been worried her tears had been about us. That she’d told those girls what happened to her last night and was breaking her heart while she relayed the story.

That she’d been crying about her dead sister had almost been worse.

It makes me feel guilty, which isn’t something I’m used to, and I’m worried we’ve been far too hard on her. What if everything she’s told us is the truth? She’s just found out her half-sister died, and she’s been in a bike crash, and then abducted by those fucking psychos, the Preachers. And what have we done? Basically tortured her.

I know we’ll never be like those golden retriever energy men girls talk about—we’re more like fucking Rottweilers—but it does make me wonder if we’re going about this all wrong. Maybe she’s not a plant or a club whore, and we’re mistakenabout everything we’ve accused her of. We’re pissed about her not believing our side of things, and for what she said about Lex and Zane assaulting her, but considering everything we’ve done to her, should we really be surprised? Maybe if we’d treated her differently, she’d act differently toward us, too.

It’s so messed up between us because she likes the games, and the degradation, and the praise, but not letting her come was an asshole move. I might not want to be her best friend, or her lover—I almost laugh at the idea—but if she cuts us off, I’ll miss her like the damn drug she is.

Maybe we need to soften it up a little.

Are we capable of change?

Are any of us?

I follow her back to her room and make sure she gets in safely, and that she’s alone. Then I give her enough time to fall asleep. I’m fairly certain she’ll crash straight into bed and will be out like a light. It gives me more confidence to do what I want.

Using her keys to open her door, I slip inside. There’s light from the bathroom, making it easy to see. The room smells faintly of the sweet cocktail she’d been drinking. She’s managed to take off her clothes, and they create a trail right up to her bed, where she’s currently face down in only her panties and bra. She hasn’t even managed to pull the covers up over herself.

She’s going to have one hell of a headache in the morning.

Aware of this, I go to the bathroom and fill a glass with water. Then I go to her purse and rummage around inside. Sure enough, I find a couple of Tylenol. I pop the tablets out of the small pill case and set them on her nightstand, together with the water. At least now they’ll be right there when she wakes. She was too drunk, so she’ll probably think she put them there.

Normally, I pull up a chair, so she won’t feel my weight depressing the bed, but this time I’m confident she won’t notice me.

Vani. Fucking Vani. Sweet and salt all rolled into one.

I sweep her long, dark hair from her back, and lightly run my fingers down the detailed snake tattoo she has decorating her spine.

Venom for the Vipers. She was always destined to be ours. Maybe Reagan’s death even played a part in that.

I allow my fingers to go lower, tracing the curve of her ass. It’s so thick and juicy, my mouth waters. I push the material of her panties to one side and lower my face to kiss and lick and lightly bite her soft skin, which erupts in goosebumps at my caresses.

Carefully, I roll her underwear down, so it’s hooked under her cheeks and is stretched across her upper thighs. I can quickly put them back in place, should I need to. I run my finger between the cleft of her cheeks, and down over her asshole, where I linger. I love being in her pussy, and getting to suck on her tits, but I’m jealous my brother got to fuck her ass. How tight was she? Insanely, so, I bet. Poor Lex had barely been able to control himself, and he’d filled her ass with cum prematurely. I wonder how long it had taken for it to stop dripping out of her.

I press the tip of my finger inside her asshole, just asserting pressure. I bet she has a vibrator and some lube in one of her bedside cabinet drawers. There’s no way I’d attempt to fuck her ass without lube. Now the thought is in my head, I can’t get it out again.

I want to make her feel good, even in her sleep.

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