Page 93 of Lovely Venom
A gunshot explodes in the tight space. I smell the smoke, and the howling in my ears drowns out everything else. I brace for the pain. The blackness. I exhale sharply, touching my body, looking for a wound that’s not there. I’m still vertical.
I wait to feel the weight of death pulling me under. I wait to see my sister Norah and my da.
But none of that happens.
Theratfalls backward, crashing to the ground with a hole between his eyes. Blood spatters the walls and beads up on the floor tiles. A trickle finds its way into the drain, feeding the real rats who live below me.
Through the ringing in my ears, a noise behind me breaks through and spins me around.
Her gun raised, Raina drifts into the hazy light. A smoking barrel fills in the gaps of my fractured mind.
She’s trembling with her weapon still pointed at me. “Don’t move,” her shaky voice croaks.
I see it all in her eyes. Her mind is working. Killing this Albanian just severed her ties with them, and she doesn’t know if she should kill me too because she’s got nothing to lose.
“Raina,” I whisper, needing to change her mind immediately.
She has everything to lose by killing me. I’m her only hope right now. She needs me.
I inch forward, hands raised. “You saved my life.”
She doesn’t respond. Just keeps staring at the dead body, like she can’t process what she’s done. It’s her first kill. Her eyes are so dark and haunted, but she doesn’t lower her weapon.
“Raina.” I keep my voice steady and careful. “Give me the gun, Venom. You did good. You did the right thing.”
She doesn’t respond, but tears spill down her cheeks.
Swallowing, I talk fast, “Listen to me, Raina. I know the Albanians put you up to this.”
Her nostrils flare. “It doesn’t matter who sent me.”
“Yes, it does, baby. Because they lied to you. Levin Berishawasn’tyour father.”
She flinches at Berisha’s name, her fingers tightening on the trigger.
“They’re using you, Raina. Someone has been feeding you bullshit. The newkyrewants you to put me in the ground, but as soon as they figure out what we know, they’ll bury you right next to me.”
Which is how I would prefer it...
Her breathing quickens. “Shut up, you’re a liar.”
I shake my head, not knowing which lie to mop up first. “You arenotBerisha’s heir. Noel—” I let out a humorless laugh. “Noel is not going to marry you. This whole thing is a trap.”
Her throat bobs as I take another step.
The gun wavers, but she doesn’t lower it. “My mother wrote me a letter.”
A jolt cuts through me. This is intel we didn’t have.
“She told me my father—”
“Youarerelated to someone in the brotherhood. Just not Levin Berisha. I have proof.”
Confusion wars on her face, a crack forming in the walls she’s built. Good. I need that crack. But she’s still holding the gun, and it’s still pointed at me.
I can’t risk her pulling the trigger.
Shockingly, she lowers the gun, and I think she finally trusts me. But she turns and runs for the front entrance. I dive for her. She moans in surprise when I yank her against my chest, knocking the weapon from her hand. It clatters to the floor, skidding across the blood-splattered tiles.
