Sweet Venom (Crazy in Love #1)

by Kirsty-Anne Still

  “You can’t go,” she says, panic rising.

  “On the contrary, I can,” I enlighten her, laughing. “Lawson will be waiting. I only told him that I wanted to collect something for dinner.” I look at her, and I sigh heavenly. “Believe me, if I could make you watch him die I so would,” I smirk at her, taking in her grief. I’d love to torture every inch of her pretty little soul if I could. “I’d even give you his heart.”

  “The deal,” she starts, rolling her eyes as she struggles to get rid of the lump in her throat.

  “The deal stands,” I ease her woes before she can even fully voice them. “But take in this place,” I tell her, putting my arms out as I look around at the dilapidated room. “Because you’re going to die in the same spot as your beloved Liam did.”

  The moment the element of grief-stricken fear ignites in her, I turn my back on her, and I hear her scramble. Looking over my shoulder, I see her failed attempt at grabbing me. I don’t hesitate; I leave her. I’m ready to let her die. I’m ready to love Lawson just a little harder. I’m prepared to finish what Lawson started.

  “Ashley!” she screams at me, her voice echoing. “Please! Ashley!” she cries, but I don’t go back, nor do I slow my steps. “Ashley! You can’t do this! Please! Ashley!” A sob threatens to fall just as I make it to the door. “ASHLEY!”

  My name never sounded so beautiful.

  Rain wakes me.

  The light drizzle is enough to drag me back into this fresh hell.

  I roll over, gazing up at the hole in the roof and watch the clouds rush by, a beautiful little mix of gray and white rain clouds. I let the water rain down onto me as I realize I survived the night here.

  The thought alone adds to the desolation in me because it tells me Ashley got her wish – Lawson doesn’t think otherwise. He thinks I left.

  I wouldn’t have left.

  There’s an ache that surpasses the one settled into my bones. It’s nestled deep into every cell of my being, pulsating with every slowed beat of my heart. It’s the one that exacerbates every time I think of Lawson. It intensifies with every thought Ashley’s in because I know I’m useless. I can’t save him from her now.

  When I came home and made her my main target, it was a purely jealous move, callous on my behalf, but it was motivated by a primitive need to protect the man I loved from a woman I didn’t know. The same one he doesn’t need.

  “Hey!” a new voice breaks into the warehouse, and I jump upwards. “Here,” he says, tossing a packet of wet wipes at me. “Ashley wants you to clean up a little.”

  I give him a sideways look as I try to make sense of her sudden rush of compassion.

  “Don’t think too much into this,” he grouses, apparently reading me better than I think he can. “She just can’t bear to look at you when you’re so filthy.”

  Embarrassed, I open the packet and take a few wipes, wiping them over my face. The cleanliness is addictive, and I try to clean up every inch of my bare skin. I nearly manage it too, but the sodden clothes I’m in don’t help much. At some point, Ashley had me changed out of the pajama shorts and Lawson’s shirt to jeans and a sweater.

  I’ve managed to make my mental pain eclipse my physical, allowing heartache and heartbreak to ravage me. All of the emotions my mother pushed onto me in the aftermath of my father’s death were warranted. I lost my father; she lost her husband – man of her every dreams. I stole him from her. That was my doing. Many would argue, but he was coming to save me, and for being the hero he paid the ultimate price.

  As I sit here, I realize I’m still paying the price, and I will continue to pay the price until my last breath.

  “That’s better,” he says, his voice low. “I’m James … I took over from Tony.”

  “Hi,” I say without much enthusiasm. “She gives you the shit jobs as well, I see.”

  “Babysitting ain’t shit when I get to have some fun,” he states, stepping closer to me. He doesn’t elaborate but eases toward me. He places one foot forward and holds the pose, watching me squirm. “C’mon, Eden … I’ve heard you’ve got quite a little tongue on you.”

  I cower, beaten by my own shame at the state of me, defeated by my past, brutalized by Ashley’s maltreatment in the last two days. I draw my breaths evenly, trying not to show too much fear.

  “Fine,” he says, watching me recoil from his steps. “I’ll have to beat you into having fun.”

  “No!” I say, fighting my way up to my feet. “I’m sorry,” I say, putting my hands up. “I’ll have fun.”

  “Too late, Princess,” he says, using the nickname Lawson and Liam used for Ashley. “I gave you your chance,” he tells me, slapping me with the back of his hand, so I fall straight back down to the ground.

  He lands a solid kick into my ribcage, disabling me and I fall hard against the concrete. The grit bites into my skin and I lay my hands flat against the floor, preparing to get back up. I don’t want them to see me weaker than I already have shown. I want to bring the girl I once was to life, hide behind the bravery and boundless courage.

  “She told me not to go easy on a lowlife like you,” he sneers, leering over me, menacingly. He grabs me by my hair, lifting me higher, uncaring as my feet scramble to help me escape. “Told me to have all the damn fun I wanted to have.”

  “Please,” I say, reaching up the best I can to get free of him. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “I do,” he says and reaches into the inside of his jacket. “My boss told me to give you this.” He drags out a pink orchid, wilted a little from being in his pocket. “She said it was your favorite.” The grin on his lips is sinister, and it only darkens as he places the orchid behind my ear. “Sorry it’s a little damaged,” he tells me, and I can tell from his derogatory tone and the way he looks at me that he finds it comical that I match the flower. “Bit like you, really.”

  I shake my head, making sure the flower falls.

  “When we give gifts we usually appreciate a little more gratitude.” His grip tightens, and I hiss. “You didn’t even say thank you.”

  I’m insulted by the use of my own call card, the flower given as an insult.

  The only thanks he gets is a ball of my spit, aimed directly at his face.

  He drops me, landing a swift kick to my ribs again, forcing me to turn over. I lay in the fetal position, pretending to be more hurt, but in fact, I pull a large piece of flint under my body, concealing it from his watchful gaze.

  “C’mon, Eden,” he says, closing the distance between us both. “We both know that little fall didn’t do too much harm. Unlike this,” he says, and I feel his foot collide with my kidney. I scream out, my body arching away from him. “We could have been great friends.”

  “We’d kill each other,” I grouse, laughing as I pull myself up onto all fours. I came back a bitch; I’ll die one. “You and me … we’d be deadly.” I look up at him, giving him a devilish smile as I suppress my pains, forget about the ache inside me yearning for drugs. “But what fun we’d have.”

  I slowly ease myself up, amazed he’s letting me

  “You know …” I start, wincing as I straighten up. “Tony was a pussy cat compared to you,” I admit, allowing us to stand even. My hands hang at my sides, the flint twisted away, hidden in my palm. “He made a few curt comments, but you …” I pause, laughing again. “You, James, are a bit of a cunt.”

  “Say that again,” he says, stepping toward me.

  My hand tightens around the stone, my skin feeling the sharpness of its edges. My inner craving to kill ignites, begging me to strike, but I quell the urge, reminding myself the foreplay is the most enjoyable part.

  “I said … you, James, are a bit of a cunt!”

  I watch a vein on his neck pulsate; my bloodlust grows as he gives me the easiest target to aim for.

  “You let a woman like Ashley boss you around because at some point in your life you got so put off with women declining; you, you knew it would be easier just to work under t
hem.” I take a step forward, goading him. “You let her emasculate you, James, and while she isn’t here you’ll act the hotshot … you act like a bit of a cunt.”

  He lunges for me, his face red with rage, his eyes fixated on me.

  I bate my breaths. I focus on what I know. I react.

  I shove the piece of flint as hard as I can manage against James’ neck, feeling it pierce the skin immediately, stopping him in his tracks. I pull away, ramming it back against his jugular before he has a chance to cover the cut or fight me off. Blood sprays against me, but I don’t stop my assault.

  I attack again, losing grip on the stone a little as the blood covers it.

  As his legs give way, I find I can’t stop. He falls to the floor, and I straddle his chest, slamming that shard of stone down one more time splitting his jugular wide open.

  “How’s that feel, Princess?” I mock, leaning in over him as he drowns on his own blood. “Playful enough for you?”

  I forgot what death looked like as I pulled it from someone. It’s been a long time since I allowed myself to get this physical, to allow my hands to get dirty because of my sordid deeds.

  I fall from him, spent and dirty. My first thought is to look around, grab the wipes he handed me earlier and clear some of the blood off my skin. Shakily, I rub my skin harder than necessary, forcing myself to feel cleaner that I am.

  All the while, in my head, I’m trying to think of a way out.

  I move onto my knees, knowing if I can find the key for the chain I can free myself and if I can find the keys to the SUV I’m free to go. I fish through his pockets, finding only his cell phone, I start to lose hope of finding the one for the chain locking me to the ground. Until I see a glint of a chain around his neck and I reach for it. I see a small key on the very end, and I rip the chain from his dying body. Shakily, I fight to force the key into the lock and hastily force the lock open. Relief washes over me and I toss the chain away from my wrist, and I push myself away from James’ body.

  Slowly, I force myself forward. I recheck his body, looking for a car key, but fail to find one.

  Taking the cell, I know I can call for help if only I can get out of here first. Standing, my vision blurs, and I stumble. I need to get out of here, but I know I risk too much by driving. Between the withdrawal and James’ merciless beating, I know I won’t make it far enough to get help. On shaky legs, I start for the doorway that will lead outside. Without shoes, the stones bite into the soles of my feet, but I don’t care. I just want freedom.

  My only aim now is to get Lawson away from Ashley.

  Reaching the entrance, I see another SUV, men that are dressed like James stand around. I quickly jump out of view, and I realize there’s no escape. The only entrance to the building is now blocked by men that Ashley put there because she clearly didn’t believe I’d stay where I was – regardless of the chain around my wrist.

  Faltering, I back away, knowing I stand no hope of getting out of here. I look around the warehouse, seeing no other exit out of here, but the one she’s got heavily guided. I walk backward until I’m out of sight and my back hits the cold steel beam of the building.

  Using the wall to support me, I guide myself to the corner furthest away from what happened to Liam, and I slide down the wall. I realize it’s now the driest corner in the warehouse and I contemplate what my next move should be. I look at the blood covered phone in my hand and roll my eyes to prevent the tears from falling. Wiping my bloody hands down my thighs, hoping his blood will eventually wipe clean.

  Opening it, I’m relieved to realize it’s a disposable cell phone and I stare at the keypad unsure of who I should call. A tear slips free of how alone I am. I could call my brother, but I can’t drag him into this. I can’t risk his life in a bid to save mine. I can’t go to The Firm. Closing my eyes, I realize I only have one hope of surviving, and I just hope he’s not angry enough to ignore my plea for help.

  Dialing the one number I wanted to call for months, I brave the moment. I listen to it ring; every shrill sound allows my heart to plummet closer to the ground, threatening to shatter completely.

  “Hello?”

  I can’t resist the sob that unravels from me as he answers.

  “Hello?” he asks again

  “Lawson,” I whisper, barely able to push my voice. “Please don’t hang up! And please don’t let anyone know it’s me.”

  There’s a moment’s pause, and I panic that he’s put the phone down.

  “What is it, Leo?” he asks, and I breathe easier.

  “Please, go to another room. Get away from everyone,” I say, not yet mentioning Ashley.

  “Why?” he bites back, his anger now building.

  “Please,” I beg, unraveling further. “Please, Lawson,” I sob hard. “Please.”

  “Okay,” he relents, and I hear him tell them all he’s just stepping out. “What do you want, Eden?”

  “I need help,” I say, knowing my letter will have made sure I get none.

  “You left,” he says, and I can hear every measure of his heartbreak in those two tiny words. “Again.”

  “Not without force,” I say, pushing my free hand against my head, threading fingers through my hair. “I’m still in New Orleans. Ashley kidnapped me.”

  “What?” he barks, disbelieving me. “You’ve said and done some crazy stuff before, Eden, but this is ridiculous.”

  “She’s not who you think she is, Lawson. Please, I’m beggin’ you believe me. I know I have no right to make you do that, but please, I’m trapped. I’m at the warehouse Leo killed Liam in. I can’t get out.” I look over at the dead form before me, his blood still pulsating onto the concrete. “I tried to leave, but she’s got the place covered. I didn’t know.”

  “Got the place covered?” he questions, and I almost make out the furrow between his brows. “How could she possibly do that when she’s got nothin’ to her name but the clothes she was wearin’ the night I met her?”

  “It’s a lie!” I exclaim, rolling my eyes knowing he’ll never believe me. “The contract is void, Lawson. It was paid off. She was after someone else to kill Bryce, but he changed the plan and almost sold her.”

  “Why should I believe you?” he asks, no other answer coming from me.

  “You shouldn’t really,” I admit and swallow hard. “I give you no reason to believe me, but I hope that somewhere deep inside of you, you do.”

  He snickers, I take no delight from it.

  “Why are you callin’?” he asks, sounding frustrated. “I thought you were more than done with me.”

  “I’m not,” I argue. “Please, it was a lie.” I regret saying that the moment it comes out of my mouth. “No, wait …”

  “You’re not helpin’ your cause,” he bites, sneering his words at me.

  “I know,” I say, feeling my emotions becoming erratic. “I’m sorry … that letter, I meant every word of it, but I’m not leavin’ … that’s the lie. That bit isn’t true.”

  “So, what’s going on?” he asks, his ire getting vehement. “Because I don’t have time to deal with your shit anymore.”

  “Please, don’t put the phone down,” I beg, sobbing again. I knew he wouldn’t believe me, but I had hoped I’d be wrong. “You and my mom have every right to hate me,” I admit, my breathing becoming shallow. “My brother, too.” I cry a little at the thought of being trapped here, alone with no one to believe me. “I accepted you’d hate me, Lawson. I just never accepted you could stop lovin’ me.”

  “I haven’t,” he bites, his words pushed with an exhale. “I haven’t stopped lovin’ you, Eden. That never changed.”

  “It did,” I admonish, once again trying to get him to realize he let Ashley in – his boldest move since I left. “You loved her. You let yourself love her, but she’s dangerous. And I know I sound like the jealous ex, but she is!” I argue, clutching the phone so tightly. “She’s not who she says she is. Lawson, please, be careful. I called her a dark horse, but that
wasn’t because I believed she could be by your side. I said it because she’s manipulated you. But not just you, she had me fooled, too!”

  “How do I know you’re tellin’ the truth?”

  My breathing races as I mentally strive to formulate a way for him to realize I’m not lying. I struggle, but I remember how this all came about.

  “The peonies,” I say, rushing my words. “Go inside … go for a bottle of Hennessey that’s in the cupboards in the kitchen. There was a bunch of peonies that Tess put there. They’re gone,” I say, taking a breath, feeling the exhale push against my tender ribs to expand. “She hit me over the head when them while everyone was out. It was yesterday morning. She cleaned up afterward. You’ll see blood on the sideboard. I watched her clean up, but she left a bit.”

  I know I’m rambling, my words disjointed, my sentences rushed, but I can’t stop myself.

  “Please, Lawson, take a bit of blind faith in what we used to share and believe me,” I plea, hoping he’ll remember how he used to trust me implicitly. “Please,” I say, finding myself reaching my breaking point once more. “She hit me and brought me here.”

  “Hang on,” he says. I hear him move, the wind hitting against the mouthpiece paired with the door opening gives me faith he listened. “I just need a drink,” he states, using a tone of voice that is hooded but shows he’s not happy with what he’s being told.

  The calm changes, the door slams, and the wind hit the phone again, but he doesn’t speak. Much like the rest of this phone call, he’s silent.

  “You know you want to down a gulp,” I tell him, letting a faint smile set onto my lips as I imagine him sitting with a bottle of whiskey before him. “I always did love the taste of whiskey on your lips,” I utter, closing my eyes. “It never tasted better than neat from your lips.”

  He can’t suppress the laughter that unfolds from him, and I’m comforted by it.