Page 179 of Sweet Venom

And someone like her, someone who feels too much and can be easily taken advantage of, needs a motherfucker like me to keep all the vultures at bay.

I slide my fingers along the tear streaks on her cheeks. She’s been crying herself to sleep since Preston’s death, and I know she blames herself for it, no matter what Dahlia and I say, but I won’t allow her to self-destruct.

If I have to be her watchdog twenty-four seven, so be it.

Her eyes slowly blink open, the blue swirling in a pit of confusion before a small smile tilts her lips. “You’re here.”

“I’m here,” I whisper.

She grabs onto my hand that’s resting on her cheek and stares at me for a beat too long. “I’m so sorry, Jude.”

“For what?”

“Everything that’s happening to you lately. First, you find out about your mom and then…” She gulps, her lips wobbling.

Her words feel too raw, too intimate, and like me, she probably still can’t believe what happened to Preston. My chest feels like it’ll explode when I think about the fact that I’ll never see him again.

Part of me refuses to come to that conclusion.

“My mom never meant to die that violently,” I say, addressing Violet’s first statement just so I won’t have to talk about my best friend that I left six feet under this afternoon.

“No?”

“No. According to Julian, who questioned the murderer before he killed him, Mom asked him to make it look like theft gone wrong and instructed that she’d only be stabbed once or twice fatally. But apparently, that man took it as carte blanche to enact his disturbed fantasies.”

“That makes sense.”

“Makes sense how?”

“She obviously didn’t want to hurt you, even if her mental illness pushed her to do things she would’ve never done if she’d been well.”

“Yeah. I’m learning to accept that.”

“Good.” She rubs my hand back and forth. “You deserve to keep whatever image of your mother you wish to, Jude.You’re lucky to have received motherly love, even if it wasn’t perfect, and I don’t believe you have to demonize her to accept the truth.”

“I won’t, no matter what Regis tries to say.”

“I love that you think that way.” She smiles softly.

I stroke her cheek. “You also deserve motherly love, and just because you didn’t receive it doesn’t mean you’re not whole.”

She gulps audibly, a shine appearing in her eyes. “I wish one of the adults had told me that at the time. Maybe if they had, I wouldn’t have felt like it was normal, that it was my duty to make myself as small as possible in front of her, or that women are meant to be used by men. It screwed up my whole perception, you know.”

“Screwed up your perception how?”

“I thought it was okay for one of her clients to rub my thigh or stroke my face, even if it made me uncomfortable. Afterward, I thought it was my fault that my foster father kept looking at my growing breasts, being touchy-feely with me, or attempted to rape me, because I wasn’t covering up enough and was tempting him. I thought unsatisfactory and emotionally hurtful sex was the norm. That women aren’t supposed to enjoy it because Mom never looked like she did. But it turns out, I got everything wrong. It was painful to realize that I was let down by all the adults in my life, that most of the men in my life preyed on me since I was young, and that sexshouldonly feel good. Sometimes, I’m happy I’m making these realizations so I can fix my mindset, but other times, I’m just sad that I missed out on so much.”

Hot fire burns through my chest, but I continue to rub her skin, trying as hard as possible not to let anger get a hold of me.

“Sorry for the trauma dumping.” She smiles awkwardly. “I swear I don’t do this all the time. I guess… I really love talking to you about everything because you’ve always given me a safe space.”

“And I always will. Don’t be sorry for finally using your voice, Violet. I’m here for you.”

“I’m also here for you. Whether you want to talk about your mom, your dad, Vencor. All of it.”

“What do you know about Vencor?”

“The basics, I suppose.”