Page 224 of Darling Venom
The cabbie swerved, flicking his eyes at us through the rearview mirror.
Charlie groaned, shaking her head. “To save you.”
“When did I ask for that?”
“Ten minutes ago. Your memory is shot.” She relaxed against the worn leather seat. “Word of advice, Dr. Marchetti. Drunk talk will never do you any favors.”
I wanted to tell her I wasn’t that drunk. That she shouldn’t be saying these things to me, because I would remember them tomorrow.
But I couldn’t.
Not because I didn’t think I’d wake up with her words seared in my brain, but because I wanted to hear her with her walls lowered.
I was so fucked.
A sudden sharp turn rocked her shoulder against mine. She swayed into me and didn’t move away.
“I expect you to keep your word.” It came out as a soft whisper I strained to hear. “Regardless of your state of mind when you spoke.”
The car pulled to a stop. Charlie stared at me, unmoving, waiting for a reply. One I couldn’t give her.
I didn’t trust myself to speak.
Something dark leaked out of her feverish eyes.
Expectation. Desire. Desperation.
They shot through her, right into me. She wouldn’t stop until she got an answer, but I’d already forgotten the question. All that lingered was this feeling. Of anticipation.
Like my life was about to change.
Like I wanted it to happen.
The cabbie cleared his throat. I produced my wallet and slipped him an extra fifty for bailing me out of this shit show of my making.
Charlie leaned closer, lips brushing my ear.
I swallowed. Hard.
“I’m going to save you, Tate.”
No. You’re gonna make me lose control.
And for the first time, I wanted to lose it all.
True to my word, I showed up at Tate’s office the next day with two bags of Lao takeout.
If I wanted to save Tate Marchetti, I needed to be a permanent fixture in his life.
Helen sent me the final round of proofing to approve, so tomorrow marked the end of my read-throughs with Terry. We were reaching the last grains in the hourglass. I needed to find a way to flip it over.
To my surprise, Sylvia didn’t appear unhappy to see me. If anything, I read relief on her face. And more exhaustion than I’d ever seen.
Brand-new dark rims lined her eyes. The professionally dyed, ultra-tight ponytail she usually sported now hung limp, an inch of blonde roots circling her hairline. Even her outfit lacked the normal effort.
This time, she didn’t bother with a fake smile. Just pointed in the general direction behind me.
“He’s in his office.”
