Page 225 of Tempting Venom
31
PRESTON
Something’s wrong.
In my head. In my body. In my rotten soul.
I tried altering my brain with chemical potions—aka meds—but they’re barely working. I can sense it, you know, thescratch scratch scratchinside my mind.
For days, I’ve been biting my lip and trying to rein it in, but the overflow will flood me sooner or later.
The screwed-up chemistry in my head will riot, and there’s no stopping that.
But I need to fix it somehow.
Just…fixit.
That’s why I delivered myself to one of my favorite places—Dr. Duret’s couch. She’s sitting across from me, looking warm and cozy in a black-and-white-striped cardigan with gold buttons and beige slacks.
Leather-bound notebook in hand, she just sits still and waits, never urging me to talk.
Because that’s what therapists do, I guess.
“I didn’t go to see Marcus yesterday.” I hold a hand up. “I know, I know. I’ve basically been dropping by his place every night since we were caught by his mom over two weeks ago, but…well, I’m not feeling well. The night before last, Ichoked him in my sleep. I know because he went to bed completely fine and woke up with fingerprints on his neck. It couldn’t have been ghosts like my brain tried to gaslight me into thinking—it was me. I felt so much regret, but instead of saying I was sorry like a sane person, I went ahead and did the exact opposite. As in, I blew up in his face and left.”
I’m breathing heavily, the sound harsh in the silence, accentuated by the loud grandfather clock on the wall. Wait. Was that always there? No, I would’ve noticed it if it were, wouldn’t I?
Also, where are the stars? Why did she remove them from the ceiling?
“Do you want to tell me why you blew up?” Dr. Duret’s posture and expression don’t change.
“He was lying to me.” I stand up and pace, running an agitated hand through my hair. “I asked if I’d hurt him in my sleep, and he said it didn’t matter.Whydidn’t it matter? Why? What if…what if…”
“What if?”
I stop and bite the inside of my cheek so hard, a coppery tang explodes in my mouth. “What if I kill him?”
“You wouldn’t want that, no?”
I shake my head once. “I…wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. That’s why I decided that I needed to stay away. You…you know me when I get volatile.”
“So you just disappear? Do you believe he’d like that?”
I flop back on the couch, grumbling. “It’s for his own good.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“He wouldn’t. Hedoesn’t.” I let out a breath. “He told me goodbye.”
“Is that why you’re upset?”
“It’s not that I don’t want to go. I…I like it, you know. Spending time with him, I mean. I thought it was because I was dick-drunk or something, but my attachment to him is not only because of the sex. Don’t get me wrong, I love the sex. I think…I think it’s the first time I’ve enjoyed it properly. I thought I loved tying them up, but really, it wasn’t control I wanted, it’s pain and surrender, but…”
“But only when you’re safe?”
A faint tremor touches my lips. “Yeah. I…I felt safe with Marcus from the get-go, didn’t I?”
“I think so. You enjoy eroticizing what was once weaponized against you, and there’s nothing wrong with that, Preston.”
