Sweet Touch of Venom (Lethal Love #1)

17. Venom

Chapter 17

Venom

Location:

Outskirts of Hollow City

Operation: Scope out Fred the idiot

T he only reason—and I mean the only reason—I agreed to stay in his miniature apartment ducked in the creepy upstairs of that Academy is because I want to see these people dead just as much as he does. And I also meant what I said when I understood his reasoning behind holding me hostage in his home. That’s exactly what it is, even if you wrap it up with a pretty red bow and give it to me with a sexy smile.

Yes, the view is absolutely gorgeous, and the room is extremely accommodating. There’s nothing black and gloomy in there. It’s filled with cream and peach color, the most comfortable bed I’ve ever laid my head on and new feminine products were already in the bathroom with fresh linen and towels.

It’s like he was already expecting me to come and to be in this school. I stow away the churn in my chest. I don’t care about these people. Fuck them. I’m not here to make friends, nor am I here to make this place my home. However, the time has come to at least put that aside and handle this properly and end it with an unforgettable death of these assholes.

Hence, why I’m laying on dirt on top of a rocky hill, next to the man I’ve hated half my whole life.

Some things we just have to deal with.

“Exactly what I expected,” Ronan says, twisting the front of the binoculars. “There’s definitely more men.”

“We can take them.” I add in adjusting my position due to the rock jamming into my rib.

He continues looking into the binoculars. “Oh, I have no doubt about that,” he says low and dangerously.

I turn over to see he’s lowered the binoculars, adjusting it again with a creepy grin forming on his lips, the scar curling up. The brisk air caresses against my cheek as I play with my binoculars to keep my hands doing something besides poking his face.

It’s dark outside, but from how close we are I can see the shadows of scruff in his beard and the lushness in his lips.

The moment he turns his head to face me, I look away, quickly sensing he felt me searing into the beautiful side view of his face. Now I can feel him staring at me, my heart picks up an unnatural pace and I don’t like it, so I peer into the binoculars focusing on the building.

I think back to a few days ago on the miniature nighttime talk we conducted. It was strange but also interesting. I take that back. I basically told him to fuck off and obey the rules I set, but I still randomly envision his black sweatpants that hung freakishly perfect on his waist. The imprint was obvious. My breath catches and I shift once more.

Don’t think about it.

Men in black suits outside the mansion, posts on each side of the door with AK-47s. I bet there’s a plethora of them right now. The image of killing every last man or woman in that building does a different kind of squeeze to my caged heart.

“Does this excite you?” Ronan’s voice is still faint, like he’s talking directly into my ear.

I lick my lips that’s drying from the crisp air, turning to finally face him. His brow is perked and the light from the waning moon brightens his honey eyes.

It does excite me. I want to watch their blood spill from them while I stand over their withering body as they meet with the devil himself. I hope he’s a comical bastard.

“It does,” he coos, forbidding a sick smile on his mouth. “It’s okay . It excites me, too.” His eyes darken as the cloud in the sky covers the moon; one shade of his face is completely dark, giving him an ominous look.

I swallow from the sight of it because Goddammit, it’s sexy. His eyes drop to my lips, then slowly back up to my eyes. I don’t break the connection even though I should. I hate you.

“Soon their blood would be ours.” He moves his arm, the rocks scrapping from the movement. Then he reaches over to me, my throat nerves pinching together. What is he doing?

His shaded eyes don’t move from mine, but then he grabs my binoculars that I’ve dropped to the ground unknowingly.

Shit .

He stuffs the heavy material into my hands before grabbing his off the ground and peering back. I swallow again, shaking my head lightly and inhaling to put some more air into my brain.

Get a grip, Venom. Get. A. Damn. Grip.

“So, what’s the plan ‘Headman ,’” I joke with an eye roll.

He lets out a light chuckle, adjusting his elbows. “It won’t take too many to take out these fuckers.”

Switching the mode to the X-ray thermal level on the binoculars, I zoom into the house, that’s showing me multiple men with guns walking around the home.

“It has to be about twenty men in there. Unfortunately, we can’t just bust in there, guns blazing.” As much as I would love that.

He chuckles again, and it’s the deepest but soothing sound. Almost like something you’ll be okay with hearing on the radio in the morning.

“Indeed unfortunate, but we won’t. That’s not how I operate, and from the looks of it, it’ll take no more than four of us to infiltrate the building and scare them shitless.”

I put the binoculars down, finally sitting up because the rocks are not friendly. “Do you think Fred’s in there?” I brush my cargo pants from the debris.

“He doesn’t go anywhere without their crew. What I missed was the extremity of it. They’ve surprised me and I can see they are not just some mediocre group anymore. They do this all over the world. Kidnapping whoever and holding them for ransom.” He places the device on the ground. “They think they’re safe, but they have no fucking idea.” Ronan looks at me with seriousness and a deep sense of passion. “Carter’s death will be avenged. I’ll see to it. I promise.”

Hearing him just speak my brother’s name again gives me goosebumps on my skin, and it’s not from the air. It feels dirty working next to a man that you were meant to kill for years. The man you were conditioned to hate and murder, eventually.

Was my father wrong?

Now I feel differently. The way he dedicates his entire life to seeking revenge and building a whole organization only brings admiration from me, besides hatred.

He immediately stands up not bothering to dust off. I look up to see he’s outstretched his hand towards me, and I gaze at it for a second before sliding my hand into his large, warm one. How is that possible when it’s pretty damn chilly out here?

His hand tightens around mine, yanking me up. I lose my footing from the pull, and I fall into his hard chest. My palm land on it for stability. I won’t purposely glide my hand against his hoodie to map out the curves under it all.

He hums with a sly grin. “You’re so clumsy for someone so deadly.”

Heat rises to my neck as his breath fans along my bang, like when he pushed me against the wall, holding me in place. I don’t want to admit I liked it. Almost too much. I can’t admit it because if I do, then it’ll show he got the best of me, and I can’t let that affect the mission. The goal. The whole point of this.

“And you’re so careless for someone who’s a killer.” I raise my lips slightly, hooding my eyes, then diverting them down to his pants zipper and back up. He follows the trail of where I targeted and looks back at me, his nostrils flaring, but a dark smile creeping upon his lips.

Still, he grips me harder, eliciting a hiss past my teeth. “You touch me there again?…?it better be for something else,” he warns, his face so close to mine I can see the star-like shimmer coating his eyes from the direct comment. A spike of excitement burst between my legs, and it stuns the shit out of me.

“Want to find that out?” My eyes unwavering from his honey gold ones.

“I’d rather not. But if you insist on wanting to touch me there so badly, then I won’t stop you.”

I realize my hand is still on his chest, and his right hand has left mine, where it now digs into my arm with the other wrapped around my waist.

Too close.

“Come to think of it, I’d rather gouge my own eyes than touch you there again.”

He chuckles coolly, the wind sucks up the sounds and the air mixes with it. He releases my arm, keeping me contained and close to his hard body still. Moving his arm around to himself, he brings up a knife, flipping out the blade. It shimmers under the white moon glow.

“I can help you with that.”

What?

I squeeze my lips together, as I look at the blade, and then bring my eyes back to him. My heart picks up pace. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

“Then you must want to die before killing them.”

He hums. “This seems much more enticing. Maybe we can see if you really bleed venom, yes?”

I huff unsurely, watching the blade again. I glance his way. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Ronan's features harden, then he quickly grabs my nape, I jerk away, but his hold is solid. “Let's test that theory, or are you that confident in what I wouldn’t dare do?” He raises the sharp end and I watch closely as it nears my eye. I swallow as my heart picks up a beat.

“You're a man of many games, huh,” I say breathlessly.

The blade gets closer. “You dared. Now we see.” Closer. Close enough to feel the cold of the steel under the fold of my eye.

My hand nears my holster. “I enjoy games too. But you forget one little thing.”

His brow tips with a low grin, flexing his fingers tighter on my neck. “What's that?”

I grab what I’m searching for and bring it up to his neck. My dagger sits near his artery, easy to puncture. “You play with the snake. Prepare to get bit back.” And it’ll end much worse for him then it would me. I can always wear an eye patch, he’ll be heavily affected by the poison on my dagger. Good thing he doesn’t know that.

Ronan holds his smile, motioning his eyes down then back at me. I gleam, although his knife is at my eye. How fun.

“You got me.” He inhales slightly, lowering his weapon but keeping his sights on me. “One day.”

I flip a rigid smirk, easing my dagger down. “You’ll never see me bleed—not now, not ever,” I retort, taking the opportunity to break free from his hold and retreat my dagger. The shine that shies away in the black sky brushes across his face in enough time to catch the menace grin behind the shadow. I back up, grabbing the binoculars off the ground. He’s so fucking strange.

I make my way towards the truck that seems further than what I thought it was when we walked over here. I look ahead so I can get as far away from Ronan and actually breathe before he makes it to the vehicle first. I march over the clumps of broken rocks that lie across on the pathway.

If he thinks-.

“Shit,” I huff, as the outsole of my boot hits on to a rock, and before I know it, my body goes flying forward along with the binoculars. Ready to smash face-first into chunks of rocks that’ll definitely leave a horrible scar. I screech, catching the fall with my hands and hitting the rocks flat on my thighs and belly. A stabbing sting pulses from my left hand and up to my wrist. Ronan shouts my name in a way of worry, as if I fell off the mountain.

Heat gathers along my neck and to my cheeks as I pick myself up from the ground and into a sitting position. But as I’m doing so, Ronan skits down, causing the extra pebbles of rocks to knock away.

“Dammit, are you okay?” His breath is heavy, not matching the gentleness in his clasps hand under my arm, that guides me onto my bottom. Normally, I would wrench my arm from his hold, but currently, my hand is searing in sharp twinges of pain.

I suck in crisp air through tight teeth, pulling my hand up to assess the damage on my palm. I don’t detect much—only a dark blotch on my hand. The murky sky is overcast, so I can’t truly see how deep and raw the cut is.

Ronan takes my wrist with a grip still on my elbow. “We need to get this cleaned now. Can you stand?”

My chest caves in horror at his concern. But I nod. I swallow the lump as he carefully lifts me; the stupid rocks haven’t budged a bit, and I’m almost tempted to kick them like a spiteful child.

I don’t.

I pull my arm from Ronan’s clutch and stalk to the truck. I grab the binoculars and stuff them under my armpit. I keep my hand extended while cupping my forearm to control the dripping. It tickles my skin like a feather, gliding down to my wrist and to the uneven pavement. I didn’t fall on my way here, so what the hell?

Scorching heat slaps me in the face as I replay how ridiculous I must’ve looked falling down. Humiliation consumes, I’m so damn embarrassed.

I don’t glance back, so I don’t notice Ronan on my ass like white on rice as he makes way to his truck. The trunk pops up and I open the passenger door. The light shudders on, reflecting off on to my gash, and my eyes bulge.

Balls .

Crimson fills my entire palm, with a darker spot in the middle. I suck in another breath to ease the panic that wants to fester. Liquid continues to leak down; I refuse to get into his truck. I don’t want to stain it with drips of blood.

Ronan’s door swings open, and I gaze up to see a look of concern before it switches quickly to agitation. He holds a first aid kit in his hand and hops in, slamming the door back.

He looks over at my seat and glides up to me. “What are you doing?”

I hold up my hand, gesturing my head to my hand. “I’ll get blood in your car.”

Expecting him to agree and tell me to wait, but instead, he does the opposite. His face morphs into full on anger, his eyes widening. “I don’t give a shit about this truck. GET IN.”