Page 23 of A Love Like Venom

It was the last time I ever saw that man.

Ever since that night I refused to speak to anyone besides Grace.

I wasn’t going to be responsible for another man’s life.

So, I avoid everyone, including him. It’s the safest bet.

“What does he look like.” Curiosity wins despite the panic I feel.

“Like he doesn’t belong here,” she replies lowly.

My brows furrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Turning away from the register she places a hand on her hip and pins me with a look. “Look for yourself.”

NowIpinherwith a look. “And what if Razor sees?”

A smile appears. Mischievous and unlike her. Laying a hand on my shoulder she says, “Razor has competition this time. This guy,” she pauses to glance at him and lowly whistles, “he can handle himself.”

She waltzes away from me, swinging her hips for the patrons to see.

As I hear her in the distance take more orders and flirt, my heart feels like it’s about to burst.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and exhale.

No need to panic, Alice. It’s probably just a creepy drunk. Nothing of importance.

After convincing myself there will be no harm with a small peak at the man I casually glance across the bar.

And then my heart stops.

Everythingstops.

The boy who I once thought was so beautiful has drastically changed before my eyes. Now the descriptive word pales in comparison. Because he is a far cry from beautiful. Too mature for the word.

His looks have always affected me. He’s always made me blush deeply with intense butterflies swarming in my stomach. He used to make me believe that nothing existed but him.

Even now, staring at him across the bar after years of not seeing him it still holds true.

He just has that face that makes everything else cease to exist. One that makes you stop in your tracks and catch your breath.

But now he just doesn’t catch my breath, he has it entirely.

To say he is classically handsome would be an injustice. Also, incredibly wrong. He’s so much more. But he always was.

Even young with a boyish charm he had a dark glint in his eyes and a face that said,fuck you,to the entire world.

And that part of him hasn’t changed.

Yet, everything else has.

His face is strong and defined. Behind the scruff one can tell he has a sharp jawline. As if his features were carved from stone. His brows, darker in color than his hair, are pitched downwardin a serious expression. Lips, luscious and full, are drawn in a harsh line. Such a stark difference from the smile he would always share with me. And not seeing it is like a swift punch to the gut. From the first moment he saw me he would smile and never stop. Even up until the night he vanished.

Reed Carter’s beauty is harsh and brutal.

Rugged, yet breathtaking.

Not everyone appreciated that, but I always did.

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