Page 165 of Beautiful Venom

“Why not?”

“Let’s just say Jude and Pres feed off each other’s destructive energy. I put a leash on mine.” He ruffles my hair and smiles. “Adorable bed hair.”

“Hey!” I push his hand away. “Don’t make it worse.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.” He walks out of the room, the soft click echoing in the space.

For some reason, it feels massive without him here.

I try to go back to sleep or pretend to, anyway. I’m more curious about Jude’s and Preston’s drunken state and whether they can offer me any clues…

I really should stop thinking about using Kane or his close friends. It doesn’t align with the new start we’ve established, so it’s better to focus on Hunter and the DNA testing.

After some futile twisting and turning, I get up and go to the bathroom to freshen up. The first thing I notice is my half-torn dress and my hideous face.

Oh my God. Mascara and makeup have run down my face and turned me into a zombie movie extra.

Jeez.

No wonder Kane said it can’t get worse. How the hell did he even look at me?

Can the earth open up and swallow me?

I take a quick shower and wince with every move. Kane definitely fucked my brains out last night. I can feel him inside me with every step.

It takes me more time than needed to shower, but at least I manage to wash my face clean. I put on one of his hoodies that swallows me and almost reaches my knees, and I have to roll up the sleeves to free my hands. The whole time, I’m surrounded by Kane’s scent, and it feels like a hug.

Or maybe I need to seriously stop being so into the man.

My feet gently pad on the wood as I head to the living room.

“Do it gently, you brute!” Preston shouts.

I lean sideways, grabbing the wall with both hands.

Kane is by the stove, cooking something that smells divine.

Preston sits on the kitchen stool opposite him as Jude stands beside him and holds an ice pack to his cheek.

“This gentle?” Jude asks as he presses harder.

“Ow, give it to me. I’ll do it myself.” Preston snatches the ice pack.

Jude rummages through Kane’s cabinets as if he’s in his own place, produces a few pills, and then throws them at Preston’s head. “Take those.”

Preston groans. “You’re using this to fucking torture me.”

Jude lifts a shoulder. “Shouldn’t have gotten into a fight when I wasn’t there.”

“Fuck off. I can handle my fights.”

“Since when do you even fight?” Kane glances at him sideways.

“Since someone needed to be put in their fucking place.” Preston grins in that manic way.

“Sure it wasn’t the other way around?”

“You should see his face.” Preston laughs. “I turned it into an impressionist art painting.”

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