Page 96 of Craving Venom

I don’t answer.

Because you impersonated someone? Lied to get him to talk to you?

I stare at myself in the mirror.

Or maybe it’s because you don’t want to report him.

My hands tremble at my sides. “That’s not—”

He took something from you. And you’re still hoping he’ll come back for more.

I suck in a sharp breath, nails digging into my palms.

“No.” I say it aloud, firm, cutting through the war inside my own head. “No. Idon’twant that.”

Thankfully, my phone rings, shattering the sounds in my head. My fingers fumble as I grab it off the nightstand.

Tria.

I had to lie to Tria.

I never lie to Tria.

But what the fuck was I supposed to say? Hey, I let a psychopath fuck me with a broken bottle, and now I think I might actually want to do it again?

Yeah. No.

Lying to Tria is damn near impossible, but I had to. She would’ve forced me to talk, forced me to report it.

So I told her I had some contagious flu. That I couldn’t leave my apartment, couldn’t see anyone. I made it sound bad enough to keep her away but not bad enough to make her show up at my doorstep with soup and concern.

I let the call go to voicemail, tossing my phone onto the bed.

My phone pings again.

I’m seeing you today. In fact, I’m outside your door right now.

My stomach drops.

And I don’t give a fuck about your germs. We’ll be sick together.

Open the door, or I’m using the key.

“Fuck,” I mutter, shoving away from the mirror.

I look down at my oversized t-shirt, at my bare legs, and curse again. Not good enough.

I grab the bathrobe from the chair, yanking it on and tying it tight around my waist. My hair’s a mess, tangled from too much sleep and too many restless nights, but I run my fingers through it, letting it fall around my face.

Good. It covers the worst of the bruises on my neck.

I barely make it to the door before it swings open, and suddenly, Tria is practically throwing herself into my arms.

For a second, I don’t react because I don’t deserve this.

But then her warmth seeps in, her arms squeezing tight around me, and something inside me cracks. I force myself to return the hug. It’s too much.

I almost want to cry.

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