Page 2 of Reclaiming Venom

Ridley

I stared at my son in horror, seeing my husband’s blood all over him. I wordlessly handed him a change of clothes and watched as he rushed off to a bathroom. Jesus. He’d told me it was bad, but… there was so much blood.

I looked over at Torch, and he came closer.

“What happened?” I asked. “There were so many of you. Was Tinker really that hard to take down?”

Torch sighed and ran a hand over his beard. “He wasn’t alone. Not Wire’s fault. Somewhere he picked up two helpers. While Venom had his gun to Tinker’s head, the other two came out of nowhere. They shot Justin first, and while our focus was on him, the other one shot Venom.”

I pressed a hand to my chest, my knees feeling weak. “How bad? And don’t fucking lie to me, Torch.”

“It’s bad, Ridley,” he murmured. “He nearly coded in the ambulance. By some miracle, the paramedics were able to get him back. They rushed him to surgery the minute we arrived. If it hadn’t been for Logan, he’d have died before they even got there.”

Right when my knees gave out, someone caught me. I glanced up to see Viking behind me. He hugged me tight before picking me up and carrying me over to a chair. He gently eased me down, and I leaned forward, pressing my head to my knees.

“This can’t be happening,” I whispered. “All these years, and this happens now? He was supposed to be safer. He stepped down as VP, and I thought, for sure, most of the danger was behind us.”

Torch took the spot beside me, and Savior sat on the other. We remained silent, praying and hoping for good news. It felt like an eternity before two doctors came out. One talked to the Swift Angels first about Justin, and the other came to me. He faced me, his expression grim, and my heart dropped.

“Venom has a long road to travel before he’s back on his feet. He made it through surgery, but… we lost him. We were about to call time of death, when his heart started beating again. He’s been moved to recovery, but it’s been decided it would be best to place him in a coma to help with the healing process.”

“What…” I licked my lips. “What does that mean?”

“He’s going to sleep until his body is mostly repaired. Then we’ll see if we can get him awake again.”

“What do you mean you’ll see?” Panic welled inside me. “He has to wake up!”

The doctor nodded. “I understand how you feel, but his situation… it’s not the best. For a man his age, well. There’s a lot of trauma to his body. There’s no way of telling when he’ll wake up.”

“Or if, right?” I asked, giving a bitter laugh. “You’re telling me he’s alive, but I may never get the chance to talk to him again? To see his eyes open, or hear him laugh? What the hell am I supposed to do with that?”

I heard my voice rising but couldn’t stop it. Tears streaked my cheeks, and I felt the hysteria welling inside me. Then my son was there. Dawson wrapped me in his arms, and I sobbed against his chest while he spoke with the doctor.

Venom. You better come back to me! I can’t live without you.

Chapter One

Venom

The antiseptic scent of bleach and stale air assaulted my nostrils as I clawed my way back to consciousness. My eyelids felt like lead weights, refusing to cooperate as I struggled to open them. When I finally managed to pry them apart, harsh fluorescent lights seared my retinas, sending sharp daggers of pain through my skull.

I blinked rapidly, trying to bring the blurry room into focus. Sterile white walls. Beeping monitors. The rhythmic hiss of oxygen. Hospital. But why? My mind felt foggy, memories just out of reach.

I attempted to shift positions, but my body refused to obey. Every muscle ached, protesting even the slightest movement. This couldn’t be my body -- it felt alien, unfamiliar. Panic started to bubble up in my chest.

The softclickof the door opening caught my attention. A petite blonde woman entered, her blue eyes widening as they landed on me. Relief flooded her delicate features, quickly followed by apprehension. She hesitated at the threshold, one hand still on the doorknob as if debating whether to flee.

“You’re awake,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll get the doctor.”

She raced out and soon a team of doctors and nurses came in. They immediately checked the machines, someone checked my pulse, and the doctor stared at a device in his hand.

“We’re going to remove the tube from your throat in just a moment,” the doctor said. “I’ll let the nurses help you get comfortable, then I’ll go over a few things with you. It’s good to see you awake.”

He stepped out of the room and someone else entered. The process of removing the tube was far from fun, but I was glad to have it out. A nurse offered an ice chip.

“I know your mouth and throat are dry, but drinking water right off could make you sick. I need you to suck on these for the moment,” she said, placing the cup within reach.

I opened my mouth to ask a question but couldn’t get words out. Instead, I ended up coughing. The nurses helped me calm down, fluffed my pillows, and helped me sit up a bit more. By the time they’d finished, the doctor returned.

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