Page 96 of Sweet Venom
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry about your father.”
“I told you I’d kill him one day for all he did to me.” Another sigh, this one sounds too loaded. “That day came sooner than I expected. Hurting Dahlia was the final nail in the coffin.”
“Is she okay?”
I couldn’t care less about Dahlia, and I truly dislike her meddling ways ever since Violet’s coma. Not only has she wormed her way into our lives, but she’s also kind of got Kane wrapped around her little finger.
The past few months, I’ve had to watch with pure disdain as my friend, who I honestly thought lacked any form of illogical feelings, as he calls them, became too addicted and obsessed with that girl.
And that’s bad news, because he’s slipping and making mistakes he shouldn’t.
But while I don’t care about Dahlia, Violet does. She’s her only family, and I’d rather she doesn’t wake up to find her sister mutilated.
“She’s fine. Just some cuts,” Kane says. “I have to supervise getting rid of Grant’s body. Check on Pres. I don’t like his sharp manic episodes lately. Talk soon.”
I hang up, stroll to Violet’s side, and sit on the edge of the bed.
I don’t touch her.
Ever since the time I tried to peel her eyelids open, I haven’t laid a hand on her. There hasn’t been a reason to.
She hasn’t been agitated in her sleep and hasn’t needed my hand on her back to calm her down.
Not when she’s been so…still.
However, she’s making slight movements now, no longer playing dead in a hospital bed.
I sit on the edge of the mattress and look at her soft face. “Wake up, Violet. We have a lot of shit to talk about.”
She stirs but doesn’t open her eyes.
And I wonder what she’s dreaming about. Is it her mother again? Maybe Dahlia?
Would she ever dream of me?
Not that I want her to, especially since most of her dreams are nightmares.
My phone vibrates in my hand, showing the group chat, now named ‘The Vipers’ Den.’
Pres
Guess what I’ve done?
Pres
I’m glad you asked. Voilà!
Attached is a picture of a burning motorcycle.
Kane
JFC, what is that?
Pres
Marcus Osborn’s ride.
