Page 32 of Sweet Venom

The way he looks at me with that quiet intensity ignites a disturbing feeling inside me, a deep discomfort laced with an invisible thread I can’t quite cut.

The fight drains out of him.

Or maybe he just decides the man isn’t worth any more effort.

Because Jude lets security take the bald guy from his grip.

Then, in a single, casual motion, he pulls a stack of cash from his jeans and tosses it at the manager. “For the damage.”

And just like that—he turns and leaves.

Mario follows without a word.

I release a shaky breath, gripping the tattoo on my wrist as my knees threaten to buckle.

By the time my shift ends, I feel like I’ve been washed, wrung out, and hung to dry. Every inch of me aches—my back, my feet, my skull.

All I want to do is snuggle into my couch and fall asleep listening to an audiobook.

My backpack slung over my sore shoulder, I walk out of HAVEN, massaging it, already dreaming of patches, heat packs, and the blessed oblivion of sleep?—

My eyes widen and my fist that I’m using to rub my shoulder is frozen.

Because Jude didn’t leave.

He’s still here.

Dressed in black from head to toe, he’s leaning against his bike, his legs crossed at the ankles. His leather jacket and gloves radiate quiet menace as he toys with his helmet with controlled movements.

The streetlamp overhead flickers, its light flashing over the shadowed cut of his jaw and lips that are always set in a line.

I wonder if he ever smiles.

No.

I really shouldn’t care whether or not my stalker smiles.

I lower my head, quickening my pace in the opposite direction.

In a fraction of a second, a large shadow steps in front of me.

My stomach drops as heavy boots and dark jeans come into my vision. “You’re coming with me.”

My fingers twitch against my wrist, tracing my tattoo out of instinct. “Why?—”

“I’m over here.” His voice is low, steady, and completely void of patience. “Look at me when you talk to me.”

I lift my head, my pulse hammering. “I’d rather not go anywhere with you.”

“Your preferences don’t matter.”

Before I can react, he slams the helmet onto my head. “Hop on the bike, Violet. We have a long night ahead of us.”

8

VIOLET

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”