Page 22 of A Love Like Venom

“Only to be back here tomorrow.” I remind her with a halfhearted laugh.

Taking the rag from the bar counter she waves it in front of her annoyingly. Rolling her eyes she replies with a groan, “I know. I’m trying to look on the bright side here, Alice.” She then points her finger at me accusingly. “Youare so not helping.”

At that I chuckle. “I’m only telling the truth, Grace.”

She huffs, throwing the dirty rag down to then place her hands on her hips. “Well, has anyone told you the truth sucks?”

“Yeah, well you want to hear another truth?”

“I’m almost afraid to hear it,” she half jokes and hell, I don’t blame her.

Even I want to hide from this truth, but I know she is the only person who I can confide in. I walk closer to her and bend down so my lips are by her ear. “Razor has been watching my every move tonight.”

Pulling away she sneakily takes a glance at where Razor is standing. At the very far end of the bar on our left-hand side. Closest to the main stage. The red light bathes him in a haunting glow. I don’t need the cast to know something wicked lurks there.

Grace brings her eyes back to mine and I see the concern shinning in them. Her mouth draws in a tight line as she causally glances back at him. Then, her eyes flit around the bar before they land in the opposite far side. The side closer to the exit. It’s then I see her brow quirk with interest.

Before I can question her, she subtly takes my hand and leads me to the middle of the bar where the register is.

Pretending like we are handling money she tells me, “He isn’t the only one who has been watching.”

My eyes go wide as my heartbeat begins to quicken at an alarming rate. I can feel my tongue becoming heavy in my mouth. Uneasiness blooms in my stomach which only makes me feel nauseous.

Panic takes its form in my heart and spreads through my body like wildfire. Blazing each tendon and muscle. Fucking with all my senses.

When men stare it reminds me too much of my childhood. How terrified it made me feel when my mother’s boyfriends’ eyes would linger for far more than what was comfortable. When I was only a young girl, and their eyes would suggestively appraise me from head to toe.

Their eyes on me, staring unapologetically, had me wanting to crawl out of my skin.

That same feeling happens now, and I can’t do anything to stop it.

I feel like the little girl stuck back in her trailer alone with the men mom would call her lovers in our small living area.

My tongue feels like lead as I ask with trepidation, “Who else?”

With her head cast down and her voice only loud enough for me to hear she answers, “A new guy. He’s never been in here before. The moment he sat down at the bar he hasn’t taken his eyes off you.”

Her new shared piece of information causes my heart to beat twice as fast. I can feel my heart pounding in my ear. Overriding the loud bass filled music.

The last thing I need is for someone else to take aninterestin me.

And it’s even worse if Razor comes to find out about it.

You see, Razor and men like him only see you as an object. One for pleasure or pain. An object to possess.

And that’s what I am to him. That’s all I’ll ever be to him. An object that he only wants to touch. One only his eyes are allowed to see.

It’s not about affection or love. No, it’s about the ultimate control. Ownership. And Razor wants to own me completely.

I’ll never give myself to him. Not even a tiny piece of who I am. But that won’t stop him. Grace was right, men like him hear the wordnoand only hear it as a challenge.

And if another man has his eyes set on me . . .

He just also signed his very own death wish.

I saw what happened to one man who was harmlessly flirting with me. He was drunk. Obliterated out of his mind. His eyes would leer at my small chest a little bit too long. When I would hand him another beer his fingers would brush against mine. Our small talk shared with the barrier of the bar meant nothing.

Except Razor didn’t see it that way. He saw a man trying to move in on what he already in his mind claimed as his. So, when the drunk patron flashed me another goofy smile and I shared one back with him, Razor had come up from behind and smashed the poor guy’s head against the bar counter. Then, he dragged him away and took him out the back entrance.

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