Page 113 of The Venom We Bleed

Istare at my wrapped knuckles, covering the light smattering of almost invisible scars I’ve gotten over the years. The sounds of the others in Cory’s gym behind me fade as I contemplate the last week.

The memory of Juliet sprawled out beneath me, her shirt torn and her tits on display is branded into my head. They’d been perfect, the right amount of softness, full enough to almost overflow my hands, and the way she’d gripped them and held them up for me as I’d jacked my cock … fuck. I have to stop thinking about it or I’ll pop a fucking tent right here.

Turning away from my reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror, I finish tucking the tape in place and bound into the ring where my opponent waits. Cory stands nearby, his eyes scanning an old, cracked iPad with a pair of reading glasses I’ve never seen him wear perched on the end of his nose. He looks older with them and the sight bothers me for some reason.

“Alright, asshole,” I say, redirecting my gaze to my opponent—a lanky guy with a mottled bruise on the side of his face from an earlier sparring match. “Are you ready to do this?”

“Far more ready than you, pretty boy,” he sneers.

I arch a brow. Yeah, I know I’m pretty, but this guy must not know me from my reputation—or at all. Just because my packaging is a lot nicer than most guys’ doesn't mean I can’t lay his ass out.

“Keep it civil, G,” Cory calls over to us, not even bothering to look up from the iPad. The fact that he said anything though, tells me that just because he looks distracted doesn’t mean he’s not well aware of everything going on in the gym.

“Got it, old man.” I refocus on the guy in front of me, narrowing my eyes on his smug expression. The sooner I wipe it off him, the better I’ll feel.

We begin to circle each other, my feet sliding across the ring’s mat-floor with comfortable ease. The echoing sounds of grunts and repetitive thuds from the other men in the gym echo all around us, as well as the low sound of rap music that Cory keeps on most of the time. It’s just loud enough for anyone who forgot to bring their own music, but not so loud that I can’t hear myself fucking think—or hear the intake of breath that preludes my opponent’s first move.

Dodging to the left as he barrels towards me, I watch the moment the guy realizes his initial plan of attack hasn’t worked. He whirls back towards me. We go back to circling. The next time he attacks, I capture his arm and bend it backward.

Using his own momentum, I swing the man around and turn his thumb up, shoving it into his back until he screams like the little bitch I knew he was. With an eye roll, I squeeze tighter for a second until Cory’s head comes up. Then I release the fucker and push him away.

“Is this really the best you could come up with?” I ask, directing my question to Cory and not my fight partner.

Cory shakes his head. “Didn’t say he was the best,” he says. “Boy’s in training.”

“Well, he’s too cocky,” I reply.

“Fucking asshole.” The ‘boy’ as Cory had called him mutters as he rubs some feeling back into his arm.

I ignore him and slip out from the ropes of the ring to find my footing on the floor next to Cory. A light coating of sweat covers my upper body and trickles down the side of my face. Not necessarily because of the fight, but because it feels hot as fuck in the gym with so many people here today. My gaze moves across the room to the morning sky outside. I’ve got to hurry up and go home soon for a shower if I’m gonna pick Prep Girl up in time. A three-hour drive with just the two of us … alone. It’s impossible not to think of the last time we’d been alone.

Cory lowers the iPad to his side and eyes me. “‘ow’s our girl?”

I sniff and wipe away a droplet of sweat from my upper lip with the back of my tape-covered knuckles. “She’s fine.”

More than fine, she’s a fucking work of art. Those nipples of hers had been a rosy hue, so tight and puckered as she’d undulated against me, practically begging me to spill my seed all over her.

Stop. Thinking. About. It.The mental reprimand is a blaring warning in my head. Not that it does me much good. I check the clock on the wall reminding myself we need to leave soon if we’re gonna get there by the start of visiting hours. I’d promised Lex, too, that I’d slip a note from him to one of the guards to give to Allen Donovan sometime later. The security of the prison is pretty good, but a prison guard’s salary can always use a bit of padding and he’s been hard at work tracking connections for the Donovan trial. It’s coming up soon and I’m sure seeing her father will remind Juliet of that fact.

“She came in for a bit,” Cory says, dragging me back to the present and my plans for later.

“Yeah?” I start to unravel the tape on my fingers and Cory’s brow arches.

“She missed the place,” Cory says, though he doesn’t comment on my actions.

“I’m sure she has.” And Nolan doesn’t live close enough to the gym for her to walk. “She’s been working a lot.”

Cory hums in the back of his throat as I ball up the first bit of tape and toss it into a nearby trashcan before working on my next fist.

“Hear she ain’t been to her apartment in a while,” Cory hedges. When I don’t respond, he huffs out a breath. “Is she staying with you?”

A snort escapes me before I can stop it, but I shake my head. “What do you think, man?” I rip off the last of the tape and it goes the same way as the rest. “She wouldn’t be safe at my place.” My own mama ain’t safe at my place, but I don’t say as much.

“Darrio don’t like her kind,” Cory agrees with a solemn nod.

An understatement if I ever heard one. It’s not that my father hates Juliet specifically, but everything she once was—and everything he isn’t. A more jealous, envious man there never has been. Darrio Vargas wants what everyone else has—money, power, fame, and respect. Not that Juliet has any of that now, but for a long while she did. For most of her life, she’d been a queen. Just because she’s fallen into the gutter with the rest of the peons doesn’t mean she’s one of us.

But you could be …the reminder of my own words to her that night circle in my mind. I hadn’t realized how much I wanted them to be true until they’d come out of my mouth. Juliet Donovan could be a Scorpion if she really wanted—she’s strong enough, brave enough, and doesn’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks.

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