Page 22 of Sweet Venom
Someone who could buy Stantonville and everyone in it without batting an eye.
And he’s related to Susie—her only son, actually.
After that night and being questioned by the police, I learned the name of the woman I failed, but I never thought I’d hear it again a few months later.
This time, coupled with her son’s name.
It all made sense. The stalking, the ‘reflect on your sins’ declaration, and his harsh glares from outside the bar’s window.
It’s all…myfault.
My nails sink into the straps of my backpack, and I stand frozen in place by the coldness in his dark eyes.
I can’t move.
I want to, but I’m unable to.
My body has a tendency to give up on me in these types of situations, as if it’s just had enough and would like to rest.
For a moment.
The stench reeking through the alley does nothing to propel me into action. But then again, what’s the point of running when he’ll keep coming back again?
And again.
Until I’m finally no more.
I gulp past the sandpaper taste at the back of my throat as he strides toward me at a frightening fast pace.
Heis frightening.
From the way he’s built—broad and tall and muscular—to how he seems to wear a permanent scowl or how his eyes darken in increments. Like pools of deep brown that can only be found in the depths of hell.
It doesn’t help that he’s dressed all in black again. Though there are no gloves today. The veins on the backs of his hands tighten as he flexes them, and I make out a black ring with unintelligible symbols on his left hand’s index finger as he kills the distance between us.
I instinctively stiffen my body and mentally prepare myself for the hit. Not sure why I expect him to shove me to the ground like Mama used to, with a palm to my face, because I disgusted her.
But his palm doesn’t come.
And neither does his fist.
Both his hands are inert at his sides as he stops a few feet away from me.
Despite the lack of violence, I don’t release a breath of relief, my body remaining tense because he’s close.
I can breathe him in.
Leather and wood.
Danger and retribution.
All wrapped in a gorgeous exterior I can’t look away from.
“Why did you look back?” Jude asks with a tinge of veiled infuriation.
As if I annoy him.
Like I used to annoy my mom.
