Page 12 of Darling Venom
I didn’t know what made me so distressed about him jumping. I was going to do it, too, right?
But somehow, for Kellan, it seemed like a waste. He had shabby, overgrown auburn hair and eyes the color of a thunderstorm.
The more I looked at him, the more I realized he was kind of boy-band gorgeous.
“Don’t jump,” I repeated, curling his fingers around my book.
They were icy, and I wondered how long he’d been up here, working his way toward death.
“Kinda hypocritical of you to say, everything considered.”
“My situation is different.”
“Yeah, it is. You have hope.”
“I have no parents, money, or prospects. Hope is not really in my cards.”
“Just a sister who agreed to sacrifice her life for you,” he said. I recoiled, his comment hitting home more than he’d ever know. “And now you want to leave her alone. Real nice, Lottie.”
I bit back a flinch at the nickname, throwing him an exasperated look. Even though he said really harsh things, he did it in a nice way.
As if he actually cared about me.
“We’re in the same situation,” I pointed out. “With our siblings. If I don’t jump, neither should you. They love us.”
As I said this, I realized the truth of it.
Leah loved me.
Even if she hated me now, she still cared for me. That was why she’d made the sacrifice. That was why she’d dropped out of school.
My chest was jam-packed with warm epiphany.
Kellan shook his head. “Not my brother.”
“Humor me. I’m not saying don’t kill yourself. I’m saying, think about it tonight. You haven’t even read On the Road yet. What a way to go.”
He drank more beer. “Yeah, no.”
“Wheelchair,” I reminded him.
“This shit is six stories high.”
“People jump this height from yachts and slice through the water like a knife. You might just break all your bones. If that happens, you’ll never live it down.”
He stared at me. “You’re relentless.”
“I know!” I said cheerfully.
He smiled.
Actually smiled.
It wasn’t a huge smile, or even a happy one, but it was a start.
“Fine, let’s see what the fuss is all about.” He picked up the book and squinted at the sleeve.
I wanted to laugh, but I didn’t. It seemed too easy, but maybe what we were doing right now made complete sense. Hearing that someone else is going through something shitty is comforting.
