Page 176 of Sweet Venom
Pretty sure there was a fight when he demanded to be here, and the only reason he got in is because his biological father—and the head of the Osborn family—got involved.
Dragging my gaze from Marcus, I get on my tiptoes to look for Jude in the first row, where Regis and Annalise are sitting, but I can’t see him.
The priest’s voice drifts through the cold air, speaking of redemption, peace, a life taken too soon.
It all sits wrong with me. Preston never wanted redemption. Never wanted peace. He wanted war, chaos, and to have fun.
He wanted to live his youth to the fullest and didn’t deserve for it to be interrupted right when it was getting started.
My breath comes in short, sharp bursts, the cold slicing through my lungs, but it’s not the air that’s suffocating me. It’s the truth. The ugly, inescapable truth that I should be the one in that casket.
A sudden gust of wind cuts through the crowd, sending the flower arrangement flying, their fragile petals trembling but refusing to drop. For a moment, I let myself believe it was him. That if I close my eyes, I’ll hear his voice, his sharp wit, the mocking lilt of a man who pretended he felt nothing but burned with too much inside.
But there’s only silence.
And the crushing realization that Preston Armstrong is gone.
I walk for as long as my legs can carry me, suffocated by the lack of love from people who are supposed to be closest to Preston.
My feet come to a halt by a tree at a side garden away from the funeral.
Jude.
He’s standing by the trunk, stroking the surface over and over again.
He turns around, and my heart jolts because his cheeks have sunken, and he doesn’t fill out the black shirt and pants like he usually does. His eyes have lost their light, and his shoulders are crowded with tension.
“You should get some rest, Violet. You haven’t slept properly in days.”
“How do you know? Unless you’ve been there?”
He was.
I could feel his warmth beside me on the bed every night. I pretended to be asleep as he pulled me to his hard chest, then let out a sigh as if he needed something to hold on to.
I did, too, which is why I pretended not to notice. I was scared that if I opened my eyes, he would disappear.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He faces the tree again, staring at a mark.
“So you’re fine coming to my room every night but not fine with admitting it?” I storm toward him, then stop. “Forget it. I don’t know why I even care. You’ll do whatever you want anyway, and I’m done making excuses for you.”
I’m about to leave, but his rough voice echoes in the air. “I needed you.”
I start to look back at him, but big arms wrap around my waist from behind, and he buries his face in my hair. “Your warmth, your smell, even the sound of your breathing calms me, sweetheart.”
My thumb strokes my wrist. “Then why did you have to do it in secret?”
“Because you’re mad at me, and I can’t handle your rejection. Not now, when my world is falling apart.”
“Jude…”
“Preston was…ismy brother, more than Julian ever has been.” His voice is thick with pain. “Julian and I have a generational gap, and he was already a snake while I was growing up and rarely treated me like a brother. When I was young, I wanted to be close to him, but he was in college and plagued with power, so it was impossible. When I told Pres, he said, ‘No worries, my dude, you have me! I’m the best and the most reliable and charming brother anyone could have. Thelast one in stock. Better snag me now before I’m snatched up by someone else. Also, let’s be friends. No one likes me.’” Jude chuckles humorlessly. “He said that while his face was bruised because some kids beat him up after he talked shit about them and I saved him. We shook our bloodied hands as a blood pact and said we’d always have each other’s backs. We even engraved it in this tree over ten years ago. The mark is starting to fade, and I can’t fix it. Because he’s gone now, and I can’t bring him back, no matter how many things or people I punch.”
My fingers stroke over his busted knuckles, tears streaming down my cheeks and slipping into my mouth, down my chin and onto the collar of my dress. “I’m sorry. It should’ve been me.”
“Violet!” He whirls me around so fast that I almost fall until he grabs my shoulders with both hands. “Don’t you fucking say that.”
“But it’s because of me that he’s…he’s…” I choke on my words, my mouth flooding with saliva and pain.
