Page 155 of Darling Venom
“The hell you are.”
“I am,” she repeated, and I had a sick feeling that this would end like last time—with her getting her way. A trait she shared with Kel. “I need to be here to finish Darling Venom.”
I opened the door again, gesturing to the cavity. “Consider this me politely declining on account of the fact that we cleared Kellan’s room, and there is nothing you will find up there that you cannot find elsewhere.”
“The house remained empty most days, my room perfectly situated to bear the bulk of the winter wind. I let thoughts of her thaw the bone-chill. Of laughing with her. Of kissing her. Of the things I wanted to do with her but never would. And even with my brother gone and my dad hidden away from me like a fugitive, the emptiness fled. Venom was here.”
She was panting by the time she finished, staring at me with wild eyes, chest ballooning and collapsing with each breath.
“It’s a passage from Darling Venom,” she explained. “And if I want to continue Kellan’s book, I need to experience what he did. I can’t do this without walking in his shoes. There is no point in giving me this manuscript if you’re not going to help me finish it like he wanted me to. And my gut tells me you don’t actually want this book back.”
“Fine,” I bit out, hating her for being right.
I didn’t have a choice.
It was Kel’s last wish.
Even in his grave, he managed to uproot my life.
To create chaos in his wake.
She gave me her back, barreling up the stairs without further invitation.
I confirmed three things at once:
Charlie was Venom,
Kellan Marchetti had been deeply, madly, infuriatingly in love with Charlotte Richards. And…
He wasn’t the only one who had a weakness for the odd, eccentric beauty.
I remembered the night Kellan died, exactly as ordered:
8:15 p.m.
I leave work early to meet Kel at a diner. Odd that he’d want to eat with me, in public no less, but I’m excited. Hopeful, even, the optimistic idiot that I am.
That morning, I told him I’d lay off and give him unsupervised visitation with Terry (which will require me convincing the useless bastard to actually meet with his son, but one hurdle at a time).
After that, Kel seemed… different.
A good different, I think, because as mentioned, he invited me to dinner tonight right after.
8:33 p.m.
Receive an emergency page about a patient and her triplets. Rush to the ER. In my haste, I forget to shoot Kel a quick text, explaining the situation.
Why the fuck did I prioritize someone else’s kids over my own fucking brother to the point that I couldn’t take just two seconds to text him that I’d see him later tonight? Why the fuck is time irreversible?
They say you learn from your mistakes, but it’s pointless if you’ll never be in a position to apply that lesson again.
What a goddamn lie.
8:45 p.m.
Kel shows up to the diner, doesn’t see me, and thinks I ditched him. He sends me a text, which I miss, because I’m prepping for an emergency C-section.
9:00 p.m.
