Sweet Venom (Crazy in Love #1)

by Kirsty-Anne Still

  I gaze over Lawson, trying my hardest to barely move, and look at the clock on the table beside the bed.

  “Urgh,” I moan, settling back as I realize it’s four in the morning.

  “Mm … That’s not a good noise,” Lawson breaks the silence, mirthfully.

  “It’s too early,” I say, sleepily and snuggle down closer against him. I raise my head against his arm and look up at him. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “It’s fine,” he states. “It’s been a while since I slept with someone all night.” He gives me a sleepy smile. “I miss it.”

  I smile and settle down, but inside I’m a maelstrom of emotion. The last person he probably woke up like this with was Eden, the one that left.

  “Hey,” Lawson says, tightening his arm around me. “Don’t go quiet on me now.”

  “Sorry,” I muse, looking away.

  “No, don’t apologize … what’s going in that head of yours?”

  “It’s stupid,” I reply.

  “I’m sure it’s not,” he replies, another clench of his arm tells me he isn’t going to let this go. “What’s going on?”

  I twist, turning in his hold until I’m on my stomach, staring at him. In the dim light in the room, he looks as beautiful as ever with his bedroom eye and messy hair.

  “It’s been a long time since I felt like I belonged anywhere.” While I feel bashful admitting that, I don’t delay continuing. “I’ll fight for this, Lawson.” I lift my head, my hand now splayed across his chest. “She doesn’t get to take this away.”

  I had a lot to fight for when this all began, but slowly, my faith broke, and I found myself doing whatever I could just to survive. Life broke me, but the moment Lawson showed caring and tenderness I found myself starting to rebuild. Some will call me foolish for my actions. It may have taken years to beat me down, but all it took was the right person to find me.

  And I believed all this time that’s all it would take.

  “I’ll fight for you,” I admit, my voice strong in the silence of the apartment. “I know this isn’t going to be easy, but please, believe that we could be something amazing.”

  “I already believe it,” he tells me, picking my hand up off his chest to kiss my knuckles. “But I can’t promise any outcome.”

  “You don’t need to,” I tell him, forcing him to calm. “First, I want to prove to the world I’m worthy of being here. Eden’s already got her place; I want to find mine.”

  “Are you sure?” he asks, and I know he doubts the fact based on what he knows.

  I take a second, allowing my thoughts to pass gradually and I know this isn’t going to be the easiest world to crack, but I’ve lived too many lives I never chose. It’s time I got to pick my path.

  “I’m positive.”

  I finally found a purpose in my dark world.

  Contrary to popular belief, the only thing I like dead are flowers.

  Those that are pressed between pages of literature forced to live an eternity they shouldn't have to.

  Of course, most people would deny the fact, having known me and all that. However, my thirst and lust changed the moment my life did.

  I won’t tell a single soul that.

  After all, I’m Eden Roberts.

  I’m the girl with the heart of a killer and a soul even Lucifer won’t touch.

  If only they knew otherwise.

  Coming home was a game changer for me. I heard the hearsay, allowed the gossip to draw me home and the moment I was back I put a plan into action, one that would see me standing in front of the one I ran away from. The brunette by his side had become collateral damage before I had even thought of a way to get close him.

  The problem is, I never realized how involved he was, how far he’d fallen and how he’d done so, so quickly.

  But that didn’t distract me.

  I have lived a thousand deaths in the time I have been gone – and each and every one has been my own. Each has drowned in beautiful sorrow, and he was my resurrection. I survived for him because I believed in fate’s grand plans. Ashley is an obstacle that I can work with. Once he allows me back in, I’ll settle, and I can move on.

  Very few know what happened to me, even fewer will learn, but my life was made easier the moment I heard word of a girl Lawson had pitied enough to fall for. Ashley was more than the girl Lawson felt something for; she was his damsel – something I never was.

  He’d pledge he’d never fall for a girl seeking a hero, but deep down in Lawson’s fickle heart, he only ever wanted to save the girl and live a quiet life in the shadows with her. I never let him save me, we only ever thrived, and because of that our past caught up quickly.

  Ashley will be his tonic.

  I’ll forever be the craving buried deep in him.

  Whatever happens from here, I have to remain true to myself, and I have to fight for him.

  That all started last night, catching her in the street, meeting her for the first time. She was so full of naivety I could practically smell it, but it was the light blush on her cheeks from the chill in the air and the large doleful eyes that caught me by surprise – Lawson had chosen my exact opposite.

  It made giving her that flower a little easier.

  Placing my hand on a book, I see the stem of the flower poking from the top. It’s had months to dry out and remain as it is. Pulling the book from the shelf, I open it and look at the flattened orchid – it’s perfectly preserved.

  I imagine the orchid I gave to Ashley. It’ll never have a beautiful end, but instead, it’ll wilt and decay because she didn’t take me seriously. It's more fool her because I don’t care what she does with the flowers I’ll give her, the important ones are all in this room.

  Running my fingers along the spines of the books on the shelves, I know exactly which ones hoard the dead beauties. I pluck a few – Gone with the Wind, Pride and Prejudice, Madame Bovary, The Great Gatsby – ones that stole me on the loneliest of nights. Those that protected me from any form of pain even if just for a little while. I move right along the shelf until I’m facing the window and my fingers toy with the spine of The Beautiful and Damned. This one is true to my heart, one that I’ve read until the pages creased and the color dulled.

  I add it to the pile in my hand and head over to my bed, setting myself down heavily, dropping each book beside me. I pick up Pride and Prejudice, laying it in my lap before I open the pages, taking the delicate flower from within the words.

  It’s been so long that the flowers are perfectly pressed, captured in its flattened form for life. I check the other books, looking at the flowers with slow intrigue. Lawson never knew what became of the bouquets he bought me; he assumed they found their place in the bin, but they became a part of me and with it a part of my identity. Using them as a calling card has much more meaning than he’ll ever know. Putting them all back where I found them, I pick the pile of books up and stand, retreating to the door.

  With one last look, I take in the room I grew up in and leave it all behind.

  Heading downstairs, I go and sit in the kitchen, right where Alex left me no more than ten minutes ago with a death glare that told me he wanted to have a word with me about my prior behavior at O’Reilly’s. I think it’s safe to say he now knows why I’m home and he’s not in the least bit happy about it.

  I settle into the seat I occupied for most of my life, the very place I ate the same meals as my family, the one that I lost rounds of Monopoly and Scrabble in, the same one I used to eat breakfast in opposite my father.

  Now, it’s a reminder that I have no place at this table.

  “You’re still here?” my mother asks in a clipped tone. The southern tone to her voice making her words disdainfully wounding. “Thought you were leavin’ five minutes ago.”

  Inwardly I wince, pained by the sound of her disdain, but to her watchful eye, I’m calm, collected, unaffected by her cold, emotionless tone toward me. I watch her from the corner of my eye, giving away nothing,
and I notice how my mom is a shell of her former self. My heart cramps, filling my chest with pain as I realize I had a hand in her undoing.

  “I’m just waitin’ for Alex,” I utter, not putting any inflection in my voice for fear of upsetting her more than I do. “I’ll be gone soon.”

  “Not soon enough,” she moans walking passed me. “Why couldn’t he come and pick you up?” she asks, finally looking at me. “Wouldn’t that have been easier?”

  “Yeah, it would,” I tell her, forcing a friendly smile on my lips. “Except his car’s in gettin’ repair work done, so I had to pick him up.” I feel her anger toward me grow and panic floods my system. The last year hasn’t been easy, for reasons some will never know, and most will ever find me forgetting. “I promise, I’ll be gone soon,” I tell her, hoping it’s the one thing that will make her happy.

  I see the thunder form, her mood darkening at knowing I’ll be here even for a few more minutes longer than she would like.

  “Not soon enough,” she reiterates her earlier words.

  “You know what … I’ll go and wait in the car,” I say, standing quickly, collecting the books.

  “I think that will be for the best,” she replies, her tone only ever getting harsher. “Shut the door behind you when you leave.”

  I obey – like any good daughter would. Like any good daughter should.

  Walking through the house, I don’t call out to my brother; I just continue walking through a house that used to be my home. When I reach the front door, I take a few seconds to let the familiar smell of the house consume me, allowing me to remember a time before the coldness set in.

  I don’t outstay my welcome, I don’t revel in the comfort it gives, and I quickly leave the house, pulling the front door closed behind me.

  I rush down the drive heading straight to my car, clambering in and slamming the door closed the moment I’m safely inside. I drop the books onto the back seat, and I close my eyes trying to steel my emotions and prevent the tears from forming. Slowly, I twist to face forward, and I even my breathing while begging myself not to cry.

  It’s been a long time since my mother even gave me an iota of compassion, but it never gets any easier. She gets colder the longer my father is dead – my penance is a lifelong one.

  Reaching for the black handbag sitting on the passenger seat, I tear it apart searching for the orange pill pot floating around with my things. The moment my fingers wrap around it, I feel an instant shot of relief, and I sink into my seat pulling the lid off to pour two pills into my hand.

  I notice the front door open in my peripheral vision, and I make quick work to toss the two tablets back and swallow them dry. Closing my eyes, I flare my nostrils, sink further into my seat and remind myself that any moment now I’ll be painless.

  The passenger door opens, and I distract myself by throwing my bag onto the backseat, the car drops as my brother falls into the seat beside me. He sits for a moment staring at me, a small curt smile on his lips. He reaches, closing the door with eyes still on me.

  “She didn’t want you in the house then?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

  “Nope,” I say, turning to face the road so I can start the engine. “Same shit, different day.”

  “It’ll get easier,” Alex tries in a soothing tone.

  “When?” I ask, looking at Alex. “It’s been close to over a year, and she’s not shown any signs of forgivin’ me.”

  He doesn’t know half of the issue at hand. Sure, he splits his life between our mother and his apartment in the city, but at least, he still gets our mom. I only get him when she allows it.

  “Where are we goin’?” I ask, changing the subject quickly.

  Alex looks thoughtful. “Hmm, I fancy decent waffles, so let’s go to The Firm.”

  I give him an unimpressed look, but he doesn’t seem in the slightest bothered. I exhausted myself last night, giving the performance of a lifetime but with my brother here I know he’ll just be more disappointed in the girl who came home.

  “After the stunt you pulled last night, you don’t get to do any fuckin’ hidin’ from anyone,” he states, the first bit of his anger now becoming pronounced. “You lied to me, Eden, and I had to sit and watch the fallout of that all happen. That poor girl …”

  “Poor girl,” I snort, putting the key into the ignition. “If only you guys knew.”

  “Well, enlighten me,” he says.

  I look at him, poised with a sweet smile. “And ruin the fun?”

  “Well,” he starts, rubbing his freshly shaven jaw. “For that, you’re buyin’.” He points forward while grabbing his seatbelt. “Drive, little sis. I expect every tiny piece of information you’re workin’ on to be shared with me before breakfast is served.”

  I swallow hard, listening to him and put my foot on the gas before driving away from the house we used to love living in. I drive in comfortable silence allowing Alex to fill the car with nonsensical chatter about my actions from the night before and I allow him to berate me, knowing he’ll repeat it all again when we’re sat at the diner.

  The sad part is, he’ll never know the truth for what I have planned.

  We make it to the diner and I pull into a parking space just short of the main entrance. Alex clambers out, clearly excited by the thought of the food, and I follow with very little enthusiasm. I follow his lead, allowing him to waltz up to the entrance. The nostalgia filters my system, and I realize I really am home.

  I often fantasized about my return to New Orleans. Not one included a red carpet or confetti, but they all did include Lawson taking me in his arms and forgiving me for my every transgression.

  But Ashley Johnson happened.

  Still, I highly doubt if Lawson would have waited with bated breath and open arms at the mere thought of me coming home.

  I knew my lack of contact and the cowardly way I left would leave him with little desire to let me back in, but I have to try. Never one to be deterred, I have to show him that while a lot has changed the way I love him never has.

  On auto pilot, I enter the diner, letting Alex find a booth on the quieter end of the room. I watch him sit and I fall into my side, shuffling along until I’m over halfway across the seat.

  “So … think you have some explainin’ to do,” Alex says, popping my entire thought bubble.

  “About what?” I ask, keeping myself calm. “Oh! About last night?”

  “Yeah,” he says, chuckling. “About last night.”

  “I was tired,” I tell him, knowing I’m evading what he’s really asking about. “I thought I would just head to your place and get some sleep. The red-eye from England was horrible, and I thought I’d beaten jet-lag enough to go home and sleep.”

  “Eden,” he sighs, shaking his head in disapproval. “That’s not what I meant.” He leans forward, checking around before talking. “What was with the act and the flower you gave to that Ashley girl?”

  “Oh, that?” I ask and slowly grin. “The flower was strictly business. As for the act, there was no act.”

  “There is,” he counters, his eyes narrowing. “This isn’t you.”

  “It is now,” I say and pluck the menu off the table. “Now, what are we eatin’?”

  Alex reaches over, pushing the menu out of my face.

  “I know it’s been a shit year, but you can’t come back and be like this.”

  “Be like what?”

  “A fuckin’ psycho,” he tells me, and I burst out laughing. “This isn’t funny. I thought you were copin’, but it was all a lie. You’re not copin’ at all.”

  “I am,” I lie, my jaw tightening. “I’m perfectly fine. I just thought it was time to come back and continue on daddy’s legacy.”

  “Of being a killer?” he asks. “We absolved ourselves of that the night he died. That was the truce Leo offered us.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I state, nodding my head and fiddle with the menu. “But it wasn’t a good enough one for me.”

  �
��Why the hell not?” he asks, his voice heightening an octave or two. “We were totally cut free. Mom got dad’s retirement money. We got to go free,” Alex tries to rationalize. “Why are you forcin’ us back into it?”

  “I’m not forcin’ us back in,” I grumble. “I’m the one pledging to get back in.”

  “By usin’ me,” Alex says, the disappointment is thick.

  “No,” I argue, shaking my head. “I’m not usin’ you. I wanted an evenin’ out with you, but I happen to know the movements of Lawson and his crew too well not to take the bait.” I lean in, Alex reacts and leans in, too. “That Ashley Johnson is more than she makes out.”

  “From what I’ve heard she’s some lonely girl from the other side of the country who’s making up for her family’s misfortunes.”

  My poor, naïve brother. I don’t know how he managed to get the conscience and it skipped me. Lawson was the first person ever to evoke compassion in me but yet I still can’t understand how my brother was born on a moral high ground and stayed there, but I fell from it.

  We lived a perfect family life, but I was never oblivious to the extents my father would go to keep us well-kept and safe. We always had guards, constantly looked after by the Matthews, but there was always a secret cloaking my mother and father’s flawless marriage.

  I didn’t learn the truth until my thirteenth birthday. The fearless look my father had on his face the moment I saw him kill a man will haunt me forever. It wasn’t long after that Leo found out I knew the family secret and their shrouded alliance.

  “What are you thinkin’ about?”

  “The day I found out what daddy was,” I state dryly, meeting Alex’s hooded gaze. “I never had a hope in hell, did I?”

  He lets out a mirthless laugh. “There’s always hope.”

  But is there?

  I often thought there was. Those were the night’s I’d spend sleepless in Lawson’s arms. There was no place I felt safer than in the arms of the man that loved every demon and me. He was the epitome of hope, and I rightfully lost that.

  “So… you want to go back to The Firm?” Alex asks, dragging me back to reality. I just about manage a nod. “What do you enjoy so much about it to go back?”