Page 101 of Sweet Venom
It was just a few hours ago when Julian was sitting beside me, flipping through a book and watching me like I was nothing more than cattle lined up for slaughter.
But now…it’s December?
Three months?
My stomach plunges.
The room sways and warps around me, and I collapse onto the sofa, my breath ragged and sharp, every inhale slicing through my ribs like shattered glass.
I’ve been gone for three whole months, but my brain refuses to recognize it.
A sharp, shrill ring shatters the silence, and even my jumpiness is sluggish as I see the phone that’s sitting beside the newspapers.
My fingers shake as I pick it up, pressing it to my ear.
Silence.
Then a low, controlled voice fills my ears. “Welcome back to the world of the living, Violet.”
Julian.
“Where am I?” My voice is hoarse, fractured, almost alien.
“Rhode Island. The start of the new life I promised. You need to lay low for a while as I arrange your transfer to Seattle.”
“D-Dahlia. Where’s Dahlia?”
A slow exhale filters through the receiver like he’s indulging me with the bare minimum of patience. “She will join you shortly.”
Oh, thank God.
She’s okay.
And I’m alive.
Does this mean it’s all over now? Am I allowed to breathe properly?
“Before then, you’ll be visited by my doctors for a final checkup to assess your body’s regenerative capabilities.”
“What about Mario?”
“In arealcoma. Will probably never wake up.”
My throat closes.
I open my mouth, but no words come out.
God. What have I done to poor Mario?
My jumbled thoughts start to filter in. Memories? No—words. Dahlia’s mostly, but also…
My heart thuds as fragments of dark promises and a deep voice I could never forget filter through.
Jude.
He was there somewhere.
My head hurts the longer I think about it. I think I woke up at some point, opening my eyes, even, but how long ago was it? I remember seeing the snow outside, the TV was on, and the Vipers were playing.
