Page 214 of Darling Venom
“No. ‘Charlie Hunnam Jr.’ didn’t have to. They are pretty and perfect. With their skin intact. Unmarked. Flawless. Everything I will nev
er be.” She choked out the words, tearing off her hair tie, letting her curls fall around her face.
A bag of makeup wipes crumpled in her hand. It tumbled to the floor after she yanked out the last, swiping the damp tissue violently across her scars.
A knock sounded at the door.
Leah growled. “Can you take this?”
I pointed to my towel, pulling it tighter around my boobs. “I’d rather not. I’m not decent.”
“I don’t have makeup on.”
“Leah!”
I tried to put a little sense into her brain. She couldn’t go on wearing a literal mask every time she walked out of the house and out to the world.
Leah sighed heavily, stomped to the door, and rose to her tiptoes to look through the peephole.
She groaned, spun, and pressed the back of her head to the tiny stretch of wall beside it. “Shit.”
And another knock.
This time, it thundered and didn’t stop.
Leah didn’t move, no doubt praying that the visitor would turn around and walk away.
The pounding stopped.
“I heard you saying shit,” Jonah said from the other end. “So, I know you know that I’m out here. A little unhappy about my nickname, but here we are. Are we going to be adults about this, or are you going to hide in there? A little help, Char?”
I suppressed a snort of laughter, leaning against the doorframe of my bedroom.
“Fine,” Leah bit out. “Give me five. I’ll open in a second.”
“No. Now.”
“Excuse me?”
“I want to see your face right now. Bare.”
“You don’t know what you are asking.” Her voice shook.
My heart broke in my chest.
“Fucking try me, Teacup.”
There was silence.
She took a step back, staring at the door.
Something tightened in my throat. I wanted to scream at her, to urge her to do this, to take the leap, but I knew it was her moment. Her decision. Her story to write for herself.
Because that was what we were, essentially. Authors of our own stories. A curveball in the form of a dark twist had spilled onto Leah’s story, an ink-stained hole in her happily ever after, but she could still turn a corner. A page.
She could still ride into the sunset with the prince with the shining tattoo sleeve.
Not on a horse, but on a Harley.
