Page 175 of Darling Venom
Ding, ding, ding.
Hers.
At least, I was ninety-nine percent certain it wasn’t mine.
I stared at the offending object, wondering if I’d bought it. Or worse, Terry.
But when I bent and dug through it, ready to chuck its contents into one of the city’s brand-new electric collection trucks, I found a corset. Black lace paired with an oversized red bow I couldn’t not picture on Charlie.
I thundered down the stairs and dumped the bag onto the kitchen island beside its owner, not buying it when she pretended not to see me. She held a rag in one hand and an eco-friendly cleaning solution in the other.
Her finger pulled the trigger. Half of it diluted in the air. The other half landed on my shirt. She leaned forward and wiped the counter, humming.
I rounded on her, forcing myself into her line of sight. It was not lost on me that I often bent my existence into shape to fit hers. In essence, she stripped away my will, and it was easy to hate her for it.
In my eight years of knowing her, Hannah never once made me feel like I’d lost control of myself. Like I needed to be elastic, and adaptable, and growing.
But Charlie…
Goddammit.
She should’ve warned me Kellan had suicidal thoughts.
She also shouldn’t have lied about it when she finally met me.
What else did she know?
The prospect alone made my anger grow hotter.
I let it simmer.
Something crackled between us. Dense and foreboding.
Her attention jerked to me.
First my feet.
Then my legs.
Then my chest.
My pulse spiked with each progression like a feverish outbreak that wouldn’t stop growing.
“This is not the Four Seasons, Miss Richards. Leave your luggage at home. Better yet, stay there while you’re at it.” I jerked a thumb at the duffel, speaking once she finally raised her eyes to meet mine.
“Hello to you, too, Dr. Marchetti.”
She s
et the spray bottle onto the countertop and crossed her arms. The rag brushed her bicep, and why the fuck was she always cleaning? I had to admit, since she’d arrived, my place was the cleanest it’d ever been.
“Odd weather we’re having,” she noted. “It went from sunny to cloudy real fast.”
“Perhaps you irritate nature, too.”
“I’m not talking about the actual weather, Tate.”
I arched a single brow. “I’m not talking about nature, either, Lottie.”
