Page 192 of Sweet Venom

Consider me a coward who ran away.

I hope you will respect my wishes.

Don’t look for me.

Please let me go.

Blue

38

VIOLET

The crunch of gravel reaches me first, and my fingers pause around the embroidery before I let it drop on the small couch.

I pull the curtain back and look out the window and see Dahlia hopping out of the car, juggling a box.

Two distinct emotions go through me: bitter relief and crushing disappointment.

I’m the one who ran away a week ago, but every time Dahlia comes over—three times in a week because she worries too much—I’m hit with a sense of paralyzing anticipation and dread.

The hope that it might be someone else.

Even after I wrote the safe word and had to wipe my tears so he wouldn’t see them on the paper.

God, I miss him. So much.

I feel hollow without him.

I stand up and head to the door.

The place I asked Lawrence to get for me is one of his unmapped safe houses and is only an hour away from Graystone Ridge in a forgotten, less affluent town.

According to Lawrence, Jude won’t search for me this close and will assume I’ve changed coasts.

The wood creaks under my steps as I walk to the door, and the scent of stale wood and untouched air fills the space. Everything here is still, and the deep quiet presses against my ears. The walls are a soft, muted gray, and it should feel welcoming, but it doesn’t.

The living room is sparsely furnished—a beige couch, a wooden coffee table, and a lamp I barely turn on. The hardwood floor is cool under my socked feet as I move through the space, taking in the kitchen’s untouched countertops, the fridge stocked with food that I forget to eat, the sink that’s empty because I don’t make meals worth dirtying dishes for.

I’ve lost the will to cook when there’s no one to enjoy those meals with me.

As I open the door, I can see the lingering remnants of winter clinging to the world, patches of old snow melting into the damp earth, the trees still skeletal, waiting for spring to bring them back to life.

Everything is waiting.

Maybe including me.

“Viii!” Dahlia drops the box on the porch and hugs me. “Ugh, I’ve missed you so much.”

“You were here two days ago.”

“I still miss you.” She pouts. “This sucks. I suggested we ban Jude instead of you, and Kane just gave me a very unamused look.”

My heart thuds at the mention of his name, but I swallow. “No one banned me. I just chose to leave, Dahl.”

“I know, I know.” She pulls away and grabs the box of my stuff that I asked her to bring me.

When I try to help, she jokingly kicks me before she steps inside and puts it on the counter.