Page 75 of Beautiful Venom

My chest heaves, my mind muddling between the need to escape and the pull of his presence. His gaze flickers over me, taking in everything—the way I’m pinned down, the glazed look that must be in my eyes, and my helplessness seeping from every pore.

He shows no emotion as he tilts his head, focusing on the hands grabbing my legs.

I open my mouth, trying to say something—his name, maybe—but nothing comes out.

The men freeze, no doubt feeling the threat that simmers beneath Kane’s calm exterior. A crackle of electricity lights up in the air as Kane’s posture subtly shifts and he snatches one of the men’s wrists, then twists it.

It doesn’t look that forceful, but the man screams.

Kane’s voice resonates with a rich, low timbre. “I already made it clear, didn’t I? Which part of no one touches my fucking things do you not understand?”

“We didn’t know… Fuck!” the shorter guy screams as a pop reverberates through the air.

He broke his arm—or wrist. The guy’s howl bounces off the walls and rings in my ears.

The other guy dashes toward the exit, but Jude seizes him by the collar of his shirt with ease. “Not so fast.”

The one with the broken wrist falls to the floor, still screaming, but Kane stands behind him, grabs his left arm, and twists.

Pop.

His scream rings in the air, chilling, like something from a horror movie.

And it keeps intensifying as Kane kicks him in the nuts and crushes them with his shoe.

The man’s mask falls, revealing someone I’ve never seen before. His face is red and his haphazard blond hair covers his forehead.

He curls up on the floor in a fetal position, wailing and crying.

Kane stands over him, his shadow still, his posture uptight. “Next time you touch what’s mine, your whole body will be in a casket.”

My eyes are barely open, but I see him walking to the guy Jude’s holding. “Now, your turn.”

He catches his arm. “Who gave you permission to touch what’s mine?”

“I can’t tell… I’ll be kicked out?—”

“You’ll be kicked out anyway.”

The pop echoes in the air. A gut-wrenching scream follows.

“Let’s try again.” Kane secures his other arm. “Who orchestrated this?”

“If I tell you, will you keep me on?”

“No. But whether you leave with your limbs intact or not depends on your next words.”

“It was Preston?—”

He hasn’t even finished talking when Kane breaks his arm.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt me!” the man screams.

“Changed my mind.” He kicks him as Jude holds him upright.

I try to hold on to that sliver of the scene in front of me, but my body is slipping, falling into a fog. My vision blurs, dark spots dance in front of me, and my breath comes out in ragged, desperate gasps.

Finally, I let myself lose the fight to stay conscious.

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