Page 24 of Sweet Venom

Something shifts in the air.

His expression, always sharpened by rage, falters for a second. His eyes widen—not dramatically, but just enough to let me know he wasn’t expecting that. Then, just as quickly, they narrow to slits, calculating and cold once again. “Is this some kind of reverse psychology tactic?”

“I wish I were that sophisticated.” I let my lips curl in a small smile, but it dies quickly when he doesn’t return it. I clear my throat, my nerves tightening around my windpipe. “I…I know who you are. I saw you earlier on TV. It was a replay of a hockey game, and I recognized your face, so I googled you. I was hoping you weren’t related to Susie Callahan, but you are. And then everything started making sense.”

I glance down briefly, swallowing hard.

“I know you’re doing this to avenge your mother’s death. I understand that kind of grief. And I get it, really. I do. Death doesn’t scare me. There’s no pain in it. No thoughts. No constant fight to stay alive. It’s peace. So if that’s what you’re after, if killing me would bring you that peace, I’m okay with it. Just let me say goodbye to my sister first. Please. Don’t hurt her. She has nothing to do with what happened.”

My breaths come in long, fractured exhales after I finish talking, curling and dissipating in the chilly air.

Jude’s been tilting his head the entire time, watching me as if I’m a freak show, and maybe I am.

“You’re suicidal?” he asks with a slight squint in his eyes.

“Not really.”

“You are. No one would accept death so easily if they haven’t been constantly thinking about it.”

I drop my hands from my backpack straps and trace my wrist tattoo back and forth, back and forth. “Why does that matter? I’m giving you a chance to exact your revenge, so why…don’t you take it?”

Another step, this time his boots touch my shoes, and I step back, but he wraps his hand around my elbow, trapping me, holding me hostage until my senses flood with him.

His scent.

His size.

His rage.

His piercing disapproval.

It’s all too…much.

“You want me to kill you because you didn’t have the guts to end your own life?”

My lips part, and I’m shaking now, my whole body going into shock.

“Tell me, Violet. Do you think you deserve the easy way out?”

“Isn’t your purpose to hurt me and make me pay?” My voice is on edge for the first time since I started speaking to this prick.

“Not if you welcome it. Where’s the fun in that?”

I purse my lips, my heart thundering against my rib cage until I’m nearly panting.

Maybe I’m having a panic attack.

Or a rare rage fit.

I don’t even know.

This man suffocates me. His words are like invisible hands around my throat that I can’t breathe through.

“People like you who wear the robe of a saint to camouflage rotten insides don’t deserve the finality of death.” He leans in farther, and this time, my chest that’s rising and falling in erratic breaths brushes against his solid muscles. “I have to figure out a better way to make you pay for your sins.”

He’s speaking so close to my mouth that his exhales rush along my lips, and I can taste mint and a hint of alcohol on his breath.

The overpowering smell saturates my senses, but I have no choice but to stare at those dead eyes and the blatant sadism shining through them.