Page 213 of Darling Venom
And in so much pain, he is drowning.
“That ship has sailed. It’s halfway across the world, sinking to the bottom of the Pacific.”
“You have to try.”
“Tatum would sooner part with his balls than make amends with me.” He swiped a palm down his face. “And Kellan—”
I shook my head, not letting him finish the thought. “Maybe I didn’t know Kellan as well as I thought, but I know him well enough to see Darling Venom is your redemption. He would have thought so.”
“You’re right, Miss Richards. You don’t know Kellan as well as you thought.”
“I can’t force you to believe me, but you’ll see. When his book is out in the wild for everyone to read, to acknowledge his sheer talent that only we’ve had the privilege of witnessing, you will see. It is the greatest gift you can give him right now. And Tate… It’s not too late to make it right with Tate, either.”
“You think I don’t want to make it up to Tate? That he isn’t the only reason I’m still breathing? Death is too generous for a bastard like me. So, no. It’s too late to patch things up with Tate. I don’t deserve it. The least I can do is be alive for him to hate. To remind him the real person to blame for Kellan’s death isn’t him. It’s me.”
There was the slightest noise.
A single footstep.
My eyes snapped to the door. I met Tate’s gaze through the gap.
Terry’s confession was an arrow, and it landed right in his oldest son’s heart.
Happy streaks always ended.
So, it didn’t surprise me when Leah arrived home from her date with a bang.
Literally.
She slammed the door behind her. Loud. As if she were making a point. And well, there were only two people it could be for.
And I didn’t think it was me.
She kicked off her shoes at the door. The heels ricocheted off the wall and landed a foot away.
She was muttering something under her breath.
All I could make out was Jonah, and desperate, and should have known.
Oh, no, Jonah. What did you do?
I pulled out my phone to text him while Leah ripped off her sweater, shoving it down her arms. I watched my neat-freak sister toss her clothes on the living room carpet.
The horror.
“How did the date go?”
“Perfect,” she snarled.
“Okay. If you say so.” I angry-texted a string of exclamation marks to Jonah. “Do you mind talking about why you’re upset?”
“I’m insecure!” She blew up on me suddenly, like a dormant volcano erupting out of nowhere. “Is that what you want to hear? It’s not Jonah’s fault girls hit on him while he’s on a date with me. It’s my stupid face’s fault, but definitely not his.”
This was bad.
So bad.
“Did he pay them any attention?”
