Sweet Touch of Venom (Lethal Love #1)

26. Venom

Chapter 26

Venom

Operation: Get the job done. And don’t focus on how attractive Ronan looks.

T he time is now to put my blade where it fits. Anticipation is a funny thing. It makes your skin clammy and your nerves jitter like a rattlesnake. It’s not nervousness, it’s the excitement to see the light dim from his eyes and us smiling down on him as he wishes it never happened in the first place.

Ronan leads us down a tunnel. It’s clean with a paved trail, air circulation, and not all at all like what a torture dungeon should look like. There are other cells along the walkway. They’ve painted the bars a perfect black and only a small floor cot with a pail. I wonder who he holds in these cells.

As if reading my mind, he points to the cells. “Sometimes, we enforce the law on our own terms.” He ends it with a light and throaty chuckle. I side eye him. Does he even answer to the law?

We pass the cells and end back at the cemented gray walls and lights stand upon the low rocky ceiling to bring light. All I need is a hand lamp to bring it all together.

“I think it goes to say I do the torturing. You do the talking,” I say, running my palm down my gelled hair.

“What gave you the idea I was going to allow you to do anything?”

I shrug, noticing a little bug around the cream-colored light. “Once you invited me, it became set in stone.”

His head cocks back. “Correction. You inserted yourself.”

That is true. “Which automatically makes the rules apply. I will do the bashing you interrogate.”

We both turn to each other once we approach the large door with chains and spikes protruding from the barbed frame.

The low setting light shines over Ronan’s thick brows and touches the shine from his hair. “I figured you wouldn’t want to get your pretty little fingers dirty.”

I nip my lip before releasing a tedious chuckle. “Darling, you have no idea how dirty my hands have gotten.” Not too dirty to be clear. I’ve never actually tortured someone for information. I have seen a few of my own, though.

His brow tips, leaning forward slightly to stare me directly into my eyes. I back away an inch because it’s so weird, and why is he so comfortable staring at someone like that? But me and weird go hand in hand, and I stared right back at him.

He smirks. “You think you can torture better than I do?”

Hello pride. “Torturing takes a special kind of technique. Also, I’ve been trained for this. High class, elite, that type of thing.”

His eyes squint, a twitch to his lips shows he wants to laugh at my fuckery. “That means nothing if you’ve never actually had any hands-on experience. Just because you pulled that artsy little stunt back at Joe’s house doesn’t mean you’ve mastered the craft of torture.” His eyes roam up my legs and land on my face. Uncomfortable tingles rock me from his examination. “Something tells me you haven’t quite hit that level yet.”

I lick over my lips. “What makes you think that?”

“I can just tell. Do you even like the sight of blood?”

I swallow. There’s no point in lying. “Not exactly, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

He leans back up, tall in stature. His eyes dim, an eerie twinkle shading his auburn eyes. “That’ll change very soon, peque?a cobra.” I catch the rock bulging out my throat from his nickname for me. It’s as if he’s saying under the lines of ‘I’ll make sure it does.’ That will never happen.

He licks over his lips, nodding to the door. “How about this? You watch how I operate and take notes.”

I tilt my head, puckering my lips in, considering his offer. “I don’t see why not.”

“Glad we can agree on something.” He jingles the keys as they insert into the key slot.

The door creaks open slowly, spiking chills to run down my arm from the ominous situation. The creek is deep and loud, like it’s been needing oil on the hinges for years.

He steps to the side, extending his arm. “Senhoras primeiro.”

I give him a dry look. How sweet.

I stroll in first, the bright crystal light blaring down in the middle of the man who’s limp and leaning over in the wooden chair, arms free, and all with his blood leaking around on the floor. There’s a white patch on his belly; he must’ve had Dr. Rio treat his wound. Just to kill him in the end. It’s so sick and evil that I want to clap and bow to Ronan.

Ronan kicks the chair, the impact scooting the wood and instantly jolting him up.

“Good, you’re awake. Did you have good dreams?” He strolls over to a metal table that holds all sizes of torture knives and devices. My stomach flips watching Ronan eenie meenie miney moe which tool to use. The man doesn’t answer; his eyes are wild, skating over the entire area. He looks behind me and I follow his gaze toward an exit sign blaring red above a black door. I can see hope in his face, but Ronan shuts the fantasy down.

“No need. It’s a fake. A ploy for those I bring down here.” He didn’t even turn his back. He knows this man’s thought process. He picks up two things. A butcher knife and a brick. Once he turns around, his face is emotionless. I bite the nail of my thumb, watching this man turn into something?.?. .?maniacal. Take notes, remember.

Yeah, I’ll take notes alright. I’ll personally have this sketched to keep in my mind forever.

“You see, Fred, people are so caught in saving their own ass, they wouldn’t think that it’s absolutely redundant to have an exit sign in a torture chamber.” He chuckles, slowly walking my way. His eyes hooding over me. He extends his arms slightly. “Pick your poison, beautiful.”

That shouldn’t make me feel bubbly inside, but it does.

Focus, Anita.

I manage to swallow and grab for the butcher’s knife. He gives me a dimpled grin before turning around, continuing his taunt.

Fred’s breath is escalated, and his yellowish eyes were still wide, the blood staining his face turning dark. “I’ll give y-you anything m-man, just let me go.”

“So, you’ll give me your head?” Ronan says, inspecting the torture tool.

The man whimpers and a leaking sound drips to the floor. He’s peeing his pants. You would think a man like him wouldn’t break so easily. I crack a sinister smile, spinning the butcher knife. This is more fun than I thought.

Ronan narrows in on the large wet stain on his pants and the pee on the floor. “Perfect. Now they have to clean up blood and piss. What the fuck, Fred?” He stalks over to him and slams a brick right on his knee.

I wince in shock, but my eyes spark with delight. Fred screams out in agony. He attempts to grasp the abrasion, but Ronan wrenches forward, bending his wrist back. “Touch it and this brick will become part of your jaw.”

Fred wails even more, but doesn’t touch his flesh.

Ronan steps back, coming up beside me. “Are you done pissing on my floor?”

He cries out nodding, he is absolutely humiliated. The bad man that kidnaps people for ransom and sells other kids to human trafficking is here weeping like a bitch. It’s the best thing I’ve seen all year.

I smirk even more, twisting my head up to Ronan, who meets my gaze. Some life comes back to his eyes, a faint curl to his lips. “He’s ready for you.”

I fold in my lips, and straighten my spine. Breaking the connection, I stroll up closer to Fred. The butcher’s knife is still rotating around my wrist. “Do you know who we are?” I ask.

He shakes and seethes, the spit flying through his crooked teeth.

“Think hard. You can do it,” I coo like a mother to her child. I tilt my head, grinning softly.

Fred looks at me, then at Ronan behind me. Then back again. Until he lands on the towering figure behind me. The color that is left on his face drains drastically and he swallows.

“You’re Poison.” The man’s gaze is only on Ronan. His eyes are wide and lip quivering. Fear is imminent in him, like he’s looking at the bogey man himself. I look over my shoulder at Ronan. Then again, he does.

“Guess again, fucker.” Ronan steps to the side of me.

He looks one more time, his face looking over Ronan like he’s on a discovery cycle. Until his face stiffens.

“Ronan.” He heaves. “H-how you fled the country.”

“Ah, ah, ah. Wrong,” he says.

“Tell us what we need to know, and we’ll go easy on you.” I step in, gliding my finger over the shape edge of the knife. Lies, of course. “It’s going to be a long night, so you better answer truthfully, or you’ll reap worse consequences,” I say, scraping my boot on the dusty ground.

“The targets on the wall. What are you planning?” Ronan asks, tossing the brick up and down.

Fred spits to the side. “What do you think?” he croaks.

“Straight answers, don’t fucking riddle us.” Ronan presses his boot on the wound on his knee.

He hollers, his eyes spreading like wings. “Okay, okay. Please,” he begs, urging Ronan to stop by pressing his hand down on the large boot.

Ronan smirks, lowering the boot. “Go.”

He sucks in a heavy breath, groaning. “They’re just future sets. We’ve marked them down once we know for sure, we’ll grab them for a possible shipment.”

Biles rolls in my belly. “These aren’t ransom packages, are they?” I glance at Ronan, then at the filth. “You were going to traffic them.” Saying it makes me want to hurl and vomit all over him.

“Potential. W-we didn’t make the arrangements yet.” He swallows loud, sweat dripping over the surface of his lip.

“Did you send off any details to anyone else?” Ronan asks, no longer playing fetch with the brick.

He shakes his head weakly. “Victor wanted the names for next week.”

I notice Ronan’s body tense at the name Victor. He must be the leader.

He circles his arm over his chest with the brick dangling to the side; his fingers run against his beard and the slice on his cheek. “Why the names?” Ronan asks, chewing down on his jaw.

Fred’s lips shake, parting, then closing. “It’s required. It’s how Victor works.”

My butcher knife swipes down, the air swooshing as I do it. “Where can we find Vicky boy?” I ask.

“Can I at least have some water?” He huffs, his eyes drooping.

I peer back at Ronan; it’s his torture chamber. If it’s me, I’ll just spit on him. There’s your water.

Ronan lifts his chin, grazing his thumb under the scruff with thought, then he shrugs.

“I don’t see why not, right?” Dropping his arms, he walks over past his shelf of demise and to a miniature fridge. He grabs out two bottles of cold water and heads back.

My lips part in wonder. Who the hell is this man? Fucking Jekyll and Hyde 3.0.

He catches the stun in my eyes and smirks darkly. “What, I get thirsty down here. Don’t judge.” He hands me water of my own.

“No judgment here,” I say, folding my lips as the smile forms. I grab the bottle as Ronan opens the one for Fred and then proceeds to our hostage, who looks thrilled from Ronan’s generosity, only for Ronan to pour the water directly over Fred’s head.

My eyes widen with a gaping mouth. Savage . I drink my water, basking in it all.

Fred screeches as the cold as water drenches him. Ronan crushes the empty plastic, then throws it at his head.

He kneels before him. “There’s your water. Now answer the question.” He grits through his teeth.

Fred begins to sob uncontrollably. “Please, God. God, help me.” There’s not a limb in my body that has sympathy for this man. He’s pitiful. Everything he has done always has a consequence. He may have lived this long untouched. But we’re here now. We are the reapers to the rest of their measly story. The fate that is destined for them. Created through pain and death, it’s only us to right the wrongs.

It was never in my mind that Ronan would be the one to burn the bodies while I blow away the ashes. Yet here we are.

I set my water on the floor, walking over and resting the flat of the butcher under Fred’s chin to lift it. “Calling for him won’t help you.” I stare into his glossy, bloodshot eyes, the dried blood and sweat glistening in his face. I back away before he gets ballsy and spits on me.

Ronan comes beside me, brushing his hand across my knuckles. A twist knots in my throat. The tingles spread up and down my arm.

“You can call for him while I’m separating your kneecaps from your legs,” Ronan says, eyeing the brick.

He heaves in panic. “Okay. Victor is settled at Dreary Hill,” he whispers in defeat, his chin dropping to his chest.

“Good. See, that wasn’t so hard,” Ronan says nonchalantly. “Now, what do you know about the blueprints?”

His head perks up fast. He wheezes heavily. “I-I don’t know w-what you’re talking about.”

Ronan growls, stepping toward him and slamming the brick down on his already destroyed knee. My heart skips at the abrasion and the shrill of his scream. I can’t help but smile. A true smile.

“I’ll give you one more time, Fred. Answer with truth!” he barks with demand. It’s boisterous, and it astounds the shit out of me. Damn.

He trembles, letting out yet another cry. “And stop crying; your face looks like shit when you do.” Ronan throws his hand up, agitated.

“You better answer, asshole,” I speak up, crossing my arms.

He sucks in a deep breath, wincing from the pain scorching through him. “You and partner were the creators of the car.” He swallows loudly.

“Something we already know, Freeeeed,” I sing out loud.

“Worth a fortune.” He coughs up crimson, the drops splattering on his dingy suit before continuing. “Certain people,” he looks at Ronan, “wanted you both dead and were paying a pretty penny for your heads.”

“Who paid you to go after them?” I ask, releasing an impatient sigh.

“No one,” he says quickly. Too quickly.

“There’s no reason to lie. They can’t protect you,” Ronan states, shaking his head.

“I can’t say! I can’t!” he shouts out with wide eyes and trembling shoulders. “It was only supposed to be an easy pickup. He told us it would be. It wasn’t supposed to go that way, but truthfully, the other one was just collateral, but he shouldn’t have tried to come at us. He deserved it,” he spit out, but then soon realized his words and backtracked, stammering.

My head cocks, my ears ringing. Is he saying my brother deserved to die?

He might as well just spit on my boots because he served me the disregard on a gold platter. My eyes blaze, and my chest explodes in rage.

“What did you say?” I flinch, my heart thudding wildly.

Ronan steps back slowly.

“I-I meant—” His eyes are wider than Jupiter.

My nostrils flare as the heat fills my entire body. Then everything goes black.

*Peque?a cobra - Little snake

Senhoras primeiro - Ladies first