Page 257 of Darling Venom
If this were a racetrack, I’d be on the last leg. Careening toward the finish line. If I told Charlie what she wanted to hear, there’d be no turning back. Once the floodgates opened, they wouldn’t close.
What else would I end up feeling?
How much more pain could I handle?
You’re an asshole, Tate Marchetti. And your brother can no longer be your crutch. Your excuse.
The words sat on the tip of my tongue.
All three.
Short and unassuming.
I toyed with them, trying to bring myself to conjure them aloud for the first time. To convince myself their weight would lift with the release. That they would be easy to say without an audience to hear.
In the end, I said nothing.
The house felt haunted without Charlie here.
Too silent.
Too cold.
Too lonely.
I heard her Uber take off. I lasted a few minutes before I hopped off my bed and cracked my blinds open, catching the mist on the glass.
It would rain soon. And that was enough for me to justify grabbing my coat and sliding into my Lexus, hightailing it to Morris Heights.
I made it there before her ride share.
The skyscraper of steps leading to her street gave me more than enough time to question my sanity. I trekked to her building and spent the next twenty minutes under the rain before I realized I’d forgotten to grab an umbrella in my rush here.
There went my excuse for showing up.
You’ve lost your damn mind, Tate.
By the time Cameron The Asshat pulled to the curb, there wasn’t a dry spot left on me.
Charlie hopped out of the Yukon and slowed in front of me, eyes dragging a path down my sopping-wet body. “Tate. What are you doing here?”
“It’s raining,” I said as if it explained everything.
God, I needed to get it together.
I raked my fingers through my hair, flinging fat drops down my back, admitting, “I don’t know.”
I might’ve laughed.
Probably.
I felt unhinged.
Out of my mind.
Past a point of return.
Whatever we were, I liked it. I wanted to hold on to this, but I didn’t feel capable. Not without ruining us both.
