Page 12 of Sweet Venom

I’m also wearing my thick-framed glasses and carrying one of Dahlia’s tote bags.

Although it’s daytime, I can’t help glancing around corners, expecting the stranger to appear out of nowhere.

He doesn’t usually, not during the day, but I’m panicking a bit about his threat.

I contemplated telling Dahlia about the whole thing earlier but decided against it. I didn’t in the past, because I refused to put her in danger, and I wouldn’t now, because knowing her, she’d definitely confront him, and I’d never survive if he were to beat her to a pulp like he did Dave.

Or maybe even kill her.

No. Dahlia can’t know about this.

Thankfully, the stalker isn’t around, and I spend an uneventful day in class, going through the motions until I have to leave for work.

My shift starts in the early afternoon today, and I stillrelease a breath when I don’t see his motorcycle or large frame close to HAVEN.

The need to constantly be alert is starting to take a toll on me. I don’t know how long I can survive looking over my shoulder, giving myself a pep talk every time I go to work or even step foot out of the apartment.

I’m organizing the bar when Laura comes over squealing.

I plaster a smile. “Good news?”

“The best!” She shows me two hockey tickets. “Boss gave us these for the Wolves’ first game next season. He can be so sweet when he’s not getting on my last nerve.”

“Nice. Who are you taking?”

“Um, you! Boss said it’s one ticket each.”

I line up the glasses on the shelves. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Girl, spill.”

I lean over and whisper, “I don’t really like hockey.”

“The blasphemy! We live in Wolves territory, where hockey is huge.”

“I know, I know. How dare I?”

“Uh-huh. We need to have you checked and consult the priest for an exorcism and shit.”

I laugh. “How about you take little Karly instead? She’d enjoy it much more than I would.”

Her eyes round. “Oh my God, are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Don’t waste a ticket on me.”

“This will be her first live game. Oh my God, she’ll love it!” She hugs me. “You don’t know how much this means to me, truly, Vi. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it, really.”

She hugs me again and scurries away, calling her daughterto tell her the news. I love how she squeals, nearly jumping in place at hearing Karly’s reactions.

A while later, patrons start filtering in and the manager puts on another replay of a hockey game. He sometimes rotates other sports, but, really, he and the owner are hockey fanatics, so they always play it on at least one TV, even during the offseason. During the season, however? That’s pretty much all that’s shown.

This one is apparently the Wolves’ fiercest game from last season against their archnemesis, according to one of the regulars.

I’m working at the bar, helping out the bartender, as the two guys sitting on the stools whistle at something happening on TV. I don’t even pay attention to the game, mostly thinking about whether the stalker will show up again tonight and what I can do if he does.

The bar gets packed fast, the crowd smelling like beer, sweat, and cheap aftershave. The game plays on a few screens, the flicker of harsh arena lights casting a bluish tint over the faces of the regulars. Their voices rise and fall in drunken excitement, spouting curses and half-slurred commentary between gulps of beer.