Page 120 of Darling Venom
Did it hurt that I had to resort to chasing down some girl to dig up info on my own brother? Like a fucking bullet.
Everything about my interactions with Miss Richards was chaotic, painful, and a nightmare waiting to happen.
Either she made an ass of herself or I did.
“All of a sudden?”
“I’ve only repeated the question four times now.”
“I meant all of a sudden in the grand scheme of our interactions, barring our first real meeting.”
“All our meetings have only ever been about Kel.” I raised a brow, but everything I said sounded infinitely less serious on account of the fact that I was slurring. Heavily. “I have no reason to see you outside of him.”
Lie.
Our last encounter proved that.
And it was the wrong thing to say, because she took a step back, distancing herself from me. “I have to go, Tate.”
I was drunk.
Too drunk to be rational about this.
“Fine. I’ll start.” I followed her down the street, struggling to catch up despite my much longer stride. “Kellan idolized Terry for nothing.”
“He idolized Terry because Terry is his dad.”
“He’s my sperm donor, too, and I find him about as charming as a used condom. But at least one is a vehicle for pleasure.”
“Terry wrote Kellan’s favorite book in the world.”
I snorted. “Terry is a talentless hack.”
She paused at the intersection, prodding the crosswalk button. “Have you even read The Imperfections?”
“No, and I have no intention of doing so. Ever.” I slumped against the pole. “Now tell me about Kellan.”
What was that? The fifth time?
I prayed to the hangover gods I’d forget this conversation ever happened by the time I woke up tomorrow. But not enough to do something logical like, you know, stop talking to Charlotte Richards and preserve whatever of my dignity remained.
“I don’t have time for this.” Charlie slid a hand into her pocket and pulled out a crumpled twenty, pressing it into my palm. Fuck if her touch didn’t electrify me. “Call a cab, Tate. Go home.”
I should tell her about it.
Darling Venom.
Kel’s book.
But I didn’t, because if I did, she’d ask for it, and if she asked for it, I’d give it to her, and if she had it, she’d read it, and if she read it…
Well, I didn’t know what she would discover.
I was too chicken-shit to find out.
Maybe that was the part that encouraged me to move the manuscript from my nightstand to the safe in my closet.
“You don’t want to talk about Kel? Fine.” I folded up her twenty and tucked it into the front pocket of her shorts. “We can talk about what happened during your exam.”
