Sweet Venom (Crazy in Love #1)

by Kirsty-Anne Still

  “Play your cards right with me, Princess, and I can make sure I’m your last master.”

  “And how did you work that one out?” I ask, crossing my arms, cocking a brow questioningly.

  “If you’re into the whole worshippin’ the devil, you could find yourself set for life with us,” Lawson tells me. “My father always makes sure loyalty is repaid in kind.”

  Promises, promises, I think to myself.

  We pull up to an abandoned warehouse, and I notice there’s a lot of activity. Pushing up in my seat, I look through the front window, trying to catch sight of what’s happening here. The mere sight has my heart wanting to gallop.

  “You don’t look so pissed to be sittin’ next to the dead guy now,” Lawson quips, catching my attention and stealing it from what’s going on outside. “Right,” he starts, that stern tone coming back. “You stay close to me, okay?” he asks. I nod my head. “By close, I mean you stand so close to me you wish you were fuckin’ attached. Got it?”

  “Got it,” I say, my voice small.

  I’m not full of fear at this moment, more curious energy.

  While Lawson may have joked with me on the journey here, there’s a part of him that’s holding back. He’s not Lawson, the friend, but Lawson the boss and I understand how Liam knows when to cross the boundaries and when to play within them.

  This is one where you behave.

  “And you,” Lawson starts, pointing at Liam. “No rogue business.”

  Liam chortles, putting his hands up in mock defense. “I’ll behave.”

  “Good,” Lawson remarks, opening his door. “Let’s go.”

  I scramble quickly to get out of the car – to listen to Lawson and to get away from Bryce. The way he stared, listless and uncaring, will haunt me. I scurry to catch up to Lawson, struggling to compete with his stride, but I do my best.

  The cold air bites at my skin, the only protection I have is an oversized winter jacket that was tossed my way when it was made abundantly clear there would be no time for me to change into anything else. Standing back out in the cold air I can see why.

  It’s as we walk; I notice how heads are turning our way. It takes me a few seconds to register they are all looking at me, watching me, and then they turn to Lawson.

  “Harrison!” Lawson calls out, and we march toward an older guy, with salt and pepper hair and a strong jaw. “What the fuck?”

  “Don’t,” he stops Lawson in the process. “Like a fucking blood bath in there.” He all but freaks when he notices me. “Who’s this then?”

  “Harrison, meet Ashley,” he introduces me, showing me off to his colleague. “She was with Bryce tonight when I killed him,” Lawson announces, almost too gleefully. “She won’t leave, and I’m not letting her until she’s signed the non-disclosure.”

  Here he goes again. He’s back to talking about letting me go once I’ve signed the relevant paperwork, but he’s foolish. It won’t work – it never has.

  “What the fuck was a pig like Bryce doing with a little beauty like that?” Harrison asks, not even introducing himself to me. “He bought her like the rest, right?”

  “Afraid not,” Lawson denies with a quick head shake. “But he was willin’ to sell her.” He watches the reaction clear on Harrison’s face before clearing his throat to speak. “What we got here?” Lawson asks walking toward the main doors as they start to open. I follow. “Looks messy.”

  Harrison follows him, taking to his side. “Believe me; it’s like a slaughterhouse in there, Boss.”

  As I take my place slightly behind Lawson, keeping myself close to him as he asked, I catch sight of what has them all in a commotion. The amount of bodies that lie behind that door has my heart cramping. I feel bile rise, and I close my eyes tightly, telling myself to keep strong in the face of all these men.

  “Mac’s got his work cut out for him tonight,” Lawson states, walking further forward – I follow. “No wonder he’s held up.”

  “What happened, though?” Liam asks, dumbly. “I mean, that’s a lot of our own in there.”

  “Double-crossin’ snakes,” Harrison deadpans with a voice void of emotion. “Your father heard about what was going to go down and beat them all to the punch.”

  “What do you mean? What were they up to?” Lawson asks, looking around as he tries to make sense of everything. “Isn’t that Randall?”

  “Sole survivor,” Harrison grouses, pushing the smallest of laughs out as he watches the bloodied man. “Not sure how he survived the shootout …” Harrison stops talking, looking at me. “Is it safe to talk with her here?”

  “She’s our newest recruit,” Lawson announces, and I sense pride in his voice, but it’s not because he has a new person by his side, but he thinks this is going to scare me away for good. “She is more than okay to hear what happened.”

  “Hmm,” Harrison hesitates, giving me a once over before looking back at his boss. “They were plannin’ a hostile takeover. They wanted The Firm away from your father and the others. They wanted to run the show.”

  “Except they had a snake ready to double cross them?” Lawson assumes, looking back at the warehouse.

  “Poor Thomas,” Harrison states, a mournful tone overtakes him. “God rest his soul. He died for the cause, Lawson. He did The Firm proud today.”

  “And where’s my father now?” Lawson asks, ignoring the grief in the air.

  “He’s back at HQ. He was here to see it go down and he’s now waitin’ for Randall to go to him.”

  There’s a brief silence from Lawson, the continued hubbub in the air creates a storm around him.

  “Not before I have my own say,” Lawson says, breaking from our small group. He turns to me as he walks with long, angry strides. “You stay there,” he orders me.

  I watch as the man who’s been tender with me for the most part of this evening purposefully walks to a man who was clearly a devoted colleague with clenched fists.

  “Hey, Randall!” Lawson shouts and before the other man can respond, Lawson’s fist hits him square on the jaw.

  He goes to fall, but Lawson catches him by the collar of his shirt, forcing him against the damp brickwork of the warehouse. The man – Randall – looks terrified and I hold my breath knowing I’m about to see the real beast that saved me tonight.

  I struggle remembering what I vowed tonight in desperation and keep looking at the scene before me. I flinched as Lawson pummels his fist into Randall’s face. Blood instantly pours from the guy’s nose, and Lawson pins him against the wall again, his body poised for another punch, his anger heating the early February chill. He refuses another hit as he keeps Randall trapped by his collar.

  “You stupid little cunt,” Lawson growls out between clenched jaws, ignoring the man’s fight against him. “You think you could be part of some fuckin’ revolution and overtake The Firm?”

  Lawson’s free hand goes to a wound on Randal’s side, and he digs in, causing the man to yell with pain. It’s now I see the strength Lawson holds, the man that’s able to kill a man and not flinch.

  “You feel that don’t you?” he asks, pushing his fingers even further in. “That’s the start of your fuckin’ punishment. You think you could do this and get away with it. You thought you could play with the big guys and keep up. You thought you could be one of us!” He yells at the man, fingers still digging deep uncaring of the blood on his hands. “Well, let me remind you of somethin’, Randall. You were never brave enough to be one of us. You were never able to be anythin’ but a mole.”

  “But I was a part of something,” Randall argues. “They promised me everything.”

  Lawson sniggers, taking his hand from Randall’s wound and places it around his neck, slowly constricting his finger. Randall struggles for air almost immediately; his hands come to fight Lawson off while his body flinches and fights to get free. Slowly, his face starts to redden as his eyes get wider and breathing becomes an impossibility.

  “They promised you everyt
hin’?” Lawson questions, leaning in. As he does the pressure grows on Randall’s windpipe, cutting off any viable breaths. “We promised you the good life. You had the good fuckin’ life, but look what you chose instead … there’s one thing being part of a group of rats, but it’s another thing altogether to be the last rat standin’!”

  Lawson lets go of his throat, but only to drive a fist into Randall’s side, catching the wound. I watch as Randall stumbles, bent forward, groaning in pain. His hands cover his wound and he howls in pathetic noises as he drops to his knees.

  “No you don’t,” Lawson spits, grabbing Randall by his collar all over again. “Over here,” he orders, dragging the wounded man.

  Randall allows Lawson the power, letting him pull him from his spot on the floor and back toward the front of the warehouse. He dumps him down in front of the large doors and pulls his gun from his waistband.

  “Open them!” Lawson argues, bringing the barrel of his gun to rest against the back of Randall’s head. “Open the fuckin’ doors!”

  Men are quick to react, listening to Lawson.

  My heart is racing inhumanly fast, and I find myself wanting to soothe Lawson, to stop him doing something stupid. Slowly, my foot moves, step out in front of me, preparing me to drag Lawson away from the edge of this insanity.

  “No, you don’t,” Liam says, stopping me from moving any further forward. “This is what you signed up for.”

  “He’s going to kill him,” I say, my voice small and tender.

  “That’s his job,” Liam states so plainly, unmoved by the thought.

  The fact sobers me, and I retreat to Liam’s side. That response is the simplest explanation for this evening. I may have lived with many monsters, but I was now well and truly entrusted in the company of killers.

  I keep my eyes trained on the moonlight glinting from Lawson’s gun and tell myself to steady my breathing. I may be in over my depth, but I am not willing to show anyone the fact.

  “Does this make you happy, huh?” Lawson asks, preparing the gun by letting a bullet enter the chamber. “Does double crossin’ The Firm make you happy, Randall? Knowin’ you stood no chance to have the life men like my father allowed you to have.” He nudges Randall’s head with the gun without any reward. “Does it make you feel better knowin’ it was all for nothin’?”

  “I’m sorry!” Randall finally says, shouting in regret. “I’m sorry, Lawson. Please, have mercy.”

  “Mercy?” Lawson asks, chuckling sardonically. “No cunt like you deserves mercy. You deserve your fuckin’ comeuppance.”

  “Please,” Randall snivels, desperation forms tears, and he cries unashamedly in front of men who were once his colleagues. “I was foolish. I was a fool, Lawson. I didn’t know what I was doing. I got greedy.”

  “You knew exactly what you were doin’,” Lawson counters, not listening to Randall. “You always knew what you were doin’. You might have fooled The Firm, but you ain’t foolin’ anyone any longer.”

  As if disgusted, he digs the gun in further, making the man snivel and close his eyes. Lawson maneuvers, keeping the gun in place, he lowers himself until his lips are near Randall’s ear. The blood loss is having an effect now as Randall doesn’t even notice.

  “Bang,” Lawson says in Randall’s ear forcing him to jump. “Death would be far beneficial, but there’s no fun in that.”

  Pushing on the wounded man, Lawson starts stepping away; I watch as Randall’s body slumps down on itself, a true mirror of defeat. He has no stamina to pick himself up, no will to stand up for himself. It’s clear now that he did more than betray a brotherhood. He did more than become a traitor to the men around him. He joined an anarchy that was too big for him to deal with.

  This was the repercussions.

  “Make sure that cunt makes it to my father alive. His side’s bleeding a bit,” Lawson states casually as he walks back over to us. “I don’t want him bleedin’ out before he makes it back to my father.”

  “Here,” Harrison says, dragging a handkerchief from his pocket to hand to his boss. “Clean his blood off your cheek… your father wants you there. He’s called an emergency meetin’.”

  “I just want a fuckin’ shower,” Lawson swears, aggravation lacing his words. “Is that too much to ask for?”

  “Nope,” Harrison agrees. “And you can have one … after you’ve seen your father.”

  “Did he mention what it was actually about?”

  “As always, he was an evasive bastard about the whole matter,” Harrison starts, causing Lawson to groan out loud. “He wants an update on the Bryce Rainey case, as for whatever else was so urgent he’s keepin’ very tight-lipped.”

  “Bryce Rainey is occupyin’ a seat in the back of my Mustang right now. Probably stainin’ up the interior,” Lawson muses, a slight mirth hinting in his words. “He’s gotta be stone cold without our newest recruit sittin’ with him.”

  “Fuck you,” I mutter, causing them to laugh.

  “She’s got a bite on her,” Harrison comments, giving me a heavy look as his eyes drag over me. “And a fine body.”

  “She’s not to be touched,” Lawson is quick to argue. “She’s not here to be a chew toy for all of you to have their fun with.” He turns, casting a gaze at me that follows the same route Harrison’s just did. He watches me for a second, his eyes dropping only to slowly gaze back up at mine. “I’m quite intrigued to see what she’s capable of rather than findin’ out what positions she prefers between the sheets.”

  I give him a smirk, deliberately pulling my bottom lip between my teeth while giving him a fresh look through hooded eyes.

  “Guess we’ll have to wait and find out,” I start, crossing my arms over my chest. “On both accounts that is.”

  Lawson’s face lights up as laughter unrolls from him like a melody. He continues to clean his face, smudging the redness into his skin. I flare my nostrils, tearing my eyes away. There’s a devious, almost sinful feeling in me as I watch him with fresh blood on his face.

  “We should get goin’,” Lawson comments, a somber tone. “I want to get to back to The French Quarter before Randall does.”

  “This should be fun,” Liam says, rubbing his hands together.

  “Yeah, it will be,” Lawson replies, putting his arm around Liam’s shoulders as we walk. “You’re babysittin’,” Lawson jokes with Liam.

  “What?” I say, guffawed and look at Liam. “I didn’t say yes to him.”

  “No, you said yes to me,” Lawson tells me, his eyes narrowing firmly onto me. “That means you do as I say when I say.” He leans in, closing the gap between us and I know he’s not doing it to play friendly. “If I tell you to do somethin’ you better hope I don’t have to repeat myself. Am I understood?”

  “Yes,” I reply quickly, making sure I don’t rile him like I had so many before him.

  “Good!” Lawson chirps, standing straight, immediately losing the dark and brooding attitude he had allowed to take him over. “Seems we’re fast forwardin’ all of this, Princess. It’s time to meet the family.”

  I follow quietly, lost in a trance, but only because I have never found a man like Lawson before. Most are so confined in their lives, only interested in that which affects them most.

  But not Lawson.

  He has an army of men around him, a powerful heritage, and a bloodlust that doesn’t even make him flinch.

  “Time we got better acquainted,” Liam breaks me from my reverie. “Maybe I could grow to love a brunette as much as Bryce did.”

  I look at him out of the side of my eye. “Pig.”

  I watch Ashley as we make our way through the streets of the French Quarter.

  She hasn’t let go of the jacket since we got into the car. Even with Bryce now gone, she has shrunk into the coat, shuddering beneath its warmth as if it’s non-existent. Her hair’s a matted mess, her make-up rubbed into her skin, but she seems to not care.

  If I’m honest, she looks beautiful.

&
nbsp; She looks around the inside of The Firm’s compound the very moment we enter. The courtyard is enough to mesmerize anyone, but as she stares, taking in the landing that lines the upper level of the courtyard, she catches me staring.

  “Like what you see?” I ask, not even denying I was staring. “It’s been in The Firm for hundreds of years.”

  “It’s stunning,” she admits, a slight blush gracing her cheeks. “So, this is where you work?”

  “Partly,” I state, dryly. “The way you look at the city tells me you haven’t been here long.”

  She shakes her head. “No, Bryce liked to keep in Seattle for a lot of the time and then dragged me over here when he settled.”

  “Stupid move,” I goad, chuckling a little. “How do you like New Orleans, Suga’?”

  “I love it,” she admits and gives me a coy smile. “Seattle is always so wet.”

  “Beware, New Orleans can get too hot.” I watch her for a moment. “Might not seem it now, but believe me, sometimes the heat can be unbearable.” She smiles, laughing nervously as the magnitude of this place seemingly catches her up. “I need to meet with my father. Liam will keep you company out here while I deal with this.”

  While she gives me a little head nod, it’s Liam I’m worried about, and I give him a pointed look to behave himself. When he gives me an eye roll, I shake my head and turn to the door. I knock, not even looking back, as I enter the office behind the large oak door. As soon as the door opens, I see my father on the other side of the room, his back to me as he picks up the decanter full of liquor.

  “Evenin’ father,” I state as I push the door behind me. “I heard you needed to see me.”

  “Yes,” he comments, not looking at me as he pours a drink. “Nice of you to make it.”

  “I was held up at the warehouse,” I say, giving him the latest piece of information. “It’s quite a mess.”

  “I hear you’ve acquired a new recruit,” he comments, ignoring my prior comment.

  “News travels fast,” I mutter, accepting the tumbler of scotch slightly begrudgingly.