Page 31 of Sweet Touch of Venom

My lips pinch with a sharp eye roll, my ears ringing from his deep voice and breath on my hair. I elbow him out of my way. Too close, too fucking close. “You think.” I storm off, swinging the door open and deliberately slamming it back. I stomp down the steps as the wind blows through my hair. What was the point if I couldn’t end his life?

Goddamn Ronan ruining everything. My boots hit the metal staircase like it’s my worst enemy; I march down each step, tapping my gun on the rails, shaking the unstableness in a shaft motion.

A second later, Ronan bust through the door as I make it down the last step and round the stairwell to get to Henley. I eyehim with disgust, catching him already staring at me with this unsettling expression that ruptures teeny tiny pricks down my neck.

I arrive at a?—

Shit on rocks.

I curl my arm around my waist, resting the pointer and middle finger between my brows. I shut my eyes, not from the disgusting view of his dismantled body. But because my way of killing him would’ve left things less messy. Less bloody.

The other night with Joe, I’ll admit I got a little hyper and gory. But today was a straightforward day, uncomplicated and less grimy.

The scraps of pebbles and the crunch of rocks rips into my intrusive thoughts. I open my eyes, my fingers still on my head, glancing down at the man. His head hit the edge of the dumpster, causing it to split open and part like the Red Sea. His eyes are open, looking up to the sky as if he were praying to whatever is above to accept his soul.

“I’ve never seen anything like that. A man that jumps to his death.” From the corner of my eye, Ronan places his hands on his hip, shaking his head.

I roll my eyes. “He planned to escape. He must’ve forgotten the dumpster was right there.”

He continues to shake his head. “I’ll call sanitation. One less man down.”

I lower my hand, facing away from the sight of him. Ronan, I mean. He disturbs me. I stare off at the birds in flight with their flock. Soaring the skies, flowing through the clouds, free and all.So free.

“Next time, let’s not fight over who goes first. I could’ve killed him before you went all solo.”

My teeth grind over each other, my foot tapping from the baritone of his accent swarming in my ears. I swing around,my feet kicking up. “There won’t be a next time,Ronan,” Iemphasize his name with an extra flick of my tongue.

“This can be so much easier if you put aside whatever issue that-.”

“Issue.” I scoff as he speaks, shifting my hips with a vigorous tap of my foot.

“You have with me,” he finishes, pointing to his chest with a cock to his head. “And give some thought to joining me. This will only continue happening until, next time, we both get killed because of your actions.”

Myactions?

Steam rises in my chest like a volcano preparing for eruption. Heat overtakes my being, and my hand itches to slam my gun right into his nose.

I glance at the ground where the body lay.Don’t let them see you weak, Venom.

I release a lengthy breath, cooling the burn that gathered on my head. I send a tight smile. “Have fun cleaning up the mess frommy actions.” I walk backward, leaving him with a smirk and my middle finger directed at his clenched jaw and burning gaze. “And go ahead, track me with your silly little device all you want, you creep.”

“That’s not a tracker. Press the button and you’ll see. You know I’m right.” He yells out, stuffing his hands into his jacket.

I twist around, my middle finger still raised. Although I should feel like I’ve accomplished something from that, I’m delivered with something entirely different. Because a sick part of me wants to entertain his idea of joining forces.

And I can never do that.

“Are you sure it’s fine?”I ask Oliver, switching the phone from my hand to my shoulder while I unclip my magazine from the gun and place it onto the small table attached to the RV wall.

I stroll through the camp truck that squeaks each moment I take a step. It’s old, but inside it’s completely refurbished, with fairy lights lining over the walls and a small kitchen section with a flat stove burner and one square sink.

“Of course.” Oliver sings out in his husky voice. “What are friends for? What’s mine is always yours.” he says in mandarin, reminding me of that, although I don’t accept it. I went this far in this trade to keep my relationship at a minimum of none. No feelings, no friends, no L word.

I rock my head with a low smile because no one can see me. “Well, thank you. I’ll try my best to keep it tidy.”

He chuckles. “You better. Unless you want to leave some panties for me, that’s okay too.”

My mouth gapes. “Goodbye, Oliver.”

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