Page 98 of The Venom We Bleed

Unlocking the driver’s side door, I hop in and slide the key into the ignition. It takes a few tries, a lot of sweat, and breath-holding, but the truck finally turns over—the engine revving to life in a violent cough. I sigh in relief before turning to the seat next to me to find the ‘present’ that Gio had left behind. My excitement over being left alone for a short length of time is utterly ruined by what I see.

With a grimace, I lift the frilly cheerleader uniform that’s dyed in the indigo blue and white colors of the Scorpion’s team colors. The outfit is similar to the one I’d worn while attending Silverwood Prep. Except that the prep academy’s colors had been silver and white and the skirts had been separate. Public’s cheerleading uniform is one long suit, and lo and behold … thereare no boy shorts sewn in. I roll my eyes and toss the offending piece of fabric onto the floorboards.

I back out of the parking space and head towards the road, enjoying the sense of being in control of my direction for the first time in months. The window is an old manual crank, but I don’t care. I carefully roll it halfway down, letting the cold air spill into the cab as I head towards my apartment complex, bypassing the ring of yellow buses that circle the side of the high school’s building.

Twenty minutes later, after dodging far too much traffic, I pull into my complex’s lot and direct the front of the truck towards the office. Shutting the vehicle off, I leave the window down and my bag in the front seat and walk straight into Mrs. Ritchie’s office without knocking.

Mrs. Ritchie sits at the front desk with her wrinkled hand clutching the old-fashioned mouse as she plays a singles game of solitaire. When the front door chimes, she glances up and I see the moment she recognizes that it’s me. The initial reaction of politeness morphs into a look of annoyance.

“Can you tell me when the damages in my apartment will be fixed?” I ask, not bothering with pleasantries.

Mrs. Ritchie sniffs, directing her already pointy nose up at me. “It’ll be fixed when we can get to it,” she says haughtily. “We have a lot of work orders in right now.”

Yeah, probably because this apartment complex is falling down around everyone’s ears.Instead of saying as much, I offer the older lady a tight smile. “Can you at least give me a timeline?” I persist. “I’d like to move back in as soon as I can.”

Mrs. Ritchie looks away from me and clicks something on her computer screen. “It’ll probably be a few weeks,” she says dismissively. “Perhaps you should think about that next time you decide to have a party.” She pauses and looks back at me, tipping her face down until the glasses perched on her nose slideprecariously close to the end. “Also, partying is a violation of your lease. We don’t allow parties on the premises.”

Bet they don’t allow murder on the premises either.

“I didn’t have a party,” I remind her. “Some … guys from school played a prank on me.” The lie falls off my lips in a stilted fashion, but it’s the very same story Nolan told me they’d given to the Ritchies to explain the damage to my apartment. “And I’m pretty sure you were offered extra money in exchange for fixing the apartment sooner.”

The old bat of a landlady straightens again and huffs out a breath. “Yes, well, we have to get a contractor out here to ascertain how bad the damage is,” she quips. “They have full schedules.”

I grit my teeth as foul rage simmers just beneath the surface. “Well,” I state, reaching for one of the business cards sitting on the holder at the edge of her desk. I pull the thing out and grab a pen from her pen cup. “I have a new phone number.” I scribble the information down on the back before sliding it her way. “If you could please let me know when you have a timeline, I’d really appreciate it.”

Mrs. Ritchie looks down at the business card I’d written on as if it’s a bug that’s invaded her personal space. “Yes,” she says, “we’ll be sure to do that.”

I just look at her for a long moment, wondering if I should even bother to call her out on the lie. No matter what I do, though, she won’t care. I turn around and walk back out of the office. There’s only one place that will help me right now and it’s not my damn apartment.

I get back into the truck and thank the universe that the engine turns over on the first try. Putting one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the back of the bench seat, I contemplate how much of a work out I’ll be able to get inwearing the jeans and t-shirt I’d thrown on for school this morning. At least, I’d thought to wear sneakers.

Ten minutes later, I direct the borrowed vehicle into the parking lot just behind Cory’s gym. My chest tightens, and it isn’t until I slam out of the car and stride into the building that it finally eases. For a moment, I just stand there, the scent of body odor and cleaning spray filling my senses. Then my shoulders relax and come down from around my ears.

“‘Ey, girl, ain’t seen ya by in a while!” a familiar voice calls out from the back of the gym.

A smile pulls at my lips and I step around a set of treadmills, heading straight for the dark-skinned man with a wide smile and his dreads pulled back into the same ponytail he always wears.

“Hey, Cory. You got time for a sparring session?”

Cory arches one bushy brow, his gaze traveling down over my clothes. He shakes his head. “Ya disappear for weeks and the first thing you ask for when you walk back in is a fight?” He chuckles, turning away and gesturing for me to follow him. “Come on, girl. Let’s get ya skinny ass geared up.”

I laugh and follow after him. Skinny ass or not, a good fight might make the football game tonight worth it.

Three hours later, I’m sore and sporting a few new bruises and a split lip thanks to one of Cory’s fresh trainees—and the fact that I’ve been out of practice for far too long. Despite it all, I’ve never felt more calm as I hop into the cab of my borrowed truck. Unfortunately, my clothes are a little worse for wear, covered in sweat and a little bit of blood.

I look down at myself and grimace as the vehicle rumbles to life. My eyes move over to the uniform Gio had left for me. There’s no way I’m putting that shit on. Instead, I resign myself to smelling like male body odor, and head to the school.

Halfway there, the phone in my pocket buzzes. I reach for the radio before remembering I’m not back in my old BMW. I don’t have a car anymore and this one is certainly not high-tech. There is no Bluetooth button. With a grimace, I slow to a stoplight before fishing it out of my pocket, press the green button, and make sure it’s on speaker, then set it next to me on the bench seat.

“What?” There are only a few people who even have this number.

“Hey, did you decide to come to the game tonight?” To my surprise, it’s none of the assholes but Mads.

“Uh, yeah, actually I’m on my way there now,” I say.

Mads lets out a relieved sound. “That’s great. I’m actually already here, I’ll wait for you.”

"Sounds good.” With that, I end the call and concentrate on the rest of the drive.

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