Page 119 of The Venom We Bleed

“Go home,” I tell him. “I’ll send you what I find out from the doctors and Gio. I want you to start by tracking the cameras in the area he was in before the attack, see if whoever attacked him was stupid enough to slip up.”

Every hint. Every clue. It didn’t matter how small, we’d find it and we’d use it. No one hurt one of our own and lived.

46

JULIET

Fire is cleansing. Fire is cruel. Fire is licking up the side of what was once the only place I could call my own. Not my parents’. Not a charity case handout. Mine. My apartment complex sits like a beacon to all as flames tear over the side of the building, consuming everything in its path. Numbness eats away at my limbs as I watch the procession of firefighters and the flashing lights.

Several people—other residents—stand on the sidewalk, watching as the red and gold glow throws lights and shadows across the parking lot pavement. I scan the crowd, somehow knowing they should be here.

I’m not stupid.

Just hours ago, I’d yelled at Nolan. I’d told him and the other Scorpion Kings that I would never trust them. That they were all liars. Well, they might be liars about some things, but never about whattheywanted. Nolan had said I’d have to come to them and he’d made sure I had no other choice. I bite my lip as my emotions threaten to take over. Closing my eyes, I let the soft cool wind of autumn soothe my too-hot skin. I’m not close enough to the fire to feel the heat. No, there’s a different firehere—it burns inside me with all of the violence of an impending volcanic eruption.

You can’t escape us.

Nolan’s words rumble in the back of my mind, in that delicious deep baritone of his. The voice of a man who knows how dangerous he can be, who’s confident in himself and his power.

Because unlike me, Nolan Pierce has power in Silverwood. It might be dirty, filthy power, but it’s power nonetheless, and he made sure he came through on at least one promise today. Too bad it wasn’t the right one.

I open my eyes as I hear a man shout out something garbled. I can’t hear the words, but a moment later two of the firefighters rush towards the front of the building, dragging a long hose behind them. There's more shouting and then water jets out, dousing the front, crashing right through the windows. A part of me wants to ask them what the point is. It’s a smaller series of units and a quick pass around the parking lot sees that all of the residents and neighbors I’d grown used to seeing come and go from the building are outside. At this time of night, almost everyone is home from work, and no one is screaming for the firemen to save their friend or husband or children.

The building is old and the fire is tearing it apart like an animal ripping through the carcass of its prey. The back of my head throbs and the pain stretches up towards my temples.

All of the money I’d gained from selling my BMW was in that apartment. Most of my clothes. The pictures I’d kept. My futon. It’s all gone now. Everything is gone, and I can’t even seem to cry about it. No matter how hard I think about crying, nothing happens. My eyes remain dry and my chest remains an empty cavern. I’m burning up inside, a strange sort of heat stealing over each of my limbs—eating away at my sense of self—but there’s none in my eyes. No pain. No burning. No heat. I’ve criedmyself out and there are no more tears. They took those too. My tears are theirs now.

There is still one thing left that they don't have. One thing they haven't taken and it's the only weapon I have left.

I take a step back and then another and another. The scent of wet wood and burning embers rises into the night sky. My eyes linger on the metal railing and staircase. That will likely be the only thing standing tomorrow morning when the last of the fire has been put out, but even that won't be the same. It's already started to warp under the heat of the flames. When dawn rises, that building will be a charred pile of wood, broken glass, and melted metal.

No one watching the scene of the burning building even notices me as I stride across the street. The bus that dropped me off is long gone. I'd been the only one that had disembarked and I'd been so stunned as I stared at the flaming mass of wood outside of the window that I'd almost missed my stop. I wonder now if I shouldn't have just kept going—shouldn't have just let the bus keep driving me right out of town.

What would they do then? If I just up and disappeared. Went somewhere far away, changed my look again, maybe even my name?

I stop in front of the dollar mart and glance down at the blue streaks of my hair. I lift one lock to the light that’s pouring out from the storefront. I can't remember why I chose blue. Maybe I was depressed. Maybe it was because I wanted to look as different from my old self as possible.

Some people believe that hair holds memories. Mine has held nothing but pain and loss.

This hair, though, isn't the same. I refuse to believe that this is pain—the ache in my chest. Betrayal. It's so easy to let shit happen to you, but it's hard to fight back and still, I'd tried. I'd tried and I'd tried. Fighting is exhausting. It's dirty work.

But ... that's what had caught their attention, wasn't it?

They were all surprised that someone like me—a fallen Silverwood princess—could fight back.

Well, I'm still fighting.

I lower the lock of blue hair back to my shoulder and start walking again, past the dollar mart and then past the next block. My heart hammers in my chest and I shiver, wrapping my arms around my chest the further I get from the fire. A new sort of chill bleeds through my still somewhat damp clothes.

The Scorpion Kings want to play games?

They want to cut me off from any other avenue?

They want to fuck me and fuck me over?

Fine.

We’ll see who wins.

One foot in front of the other, I walk until my legs ache, until my muscles are drained and sore. I walk until I near the edge of the town where the houses grow further and further apart and sidewalks disappear entirely. I walk until the bottom of my shoes touch only grass and faded road pavement.

There's only one thing left to do, one place left to go.

The Scorpion Kings are going to regret everything they've done. They might think they've trapped me with them, but they're wrong. I'm not trapped with the Scorpion Kings ...theyare trapped withme.

Before this is all over, I'm going to make them fuckingbleed.

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