Page 55 of Darling Venom
“It is?”
He nodded.
I liked it.
Charlie.
“Bud Light. Kellan used to steal your stash and share it with me.”
Tate turned his head, fighting one of his bring-down-the-stars-and-hang-the-moon smiles I knew he hid behind his stoic expression.
“I knew that. That’s why I always bought extras. Oh, and he would’ve kicked your ass for narcing on him, Charlie.”
We headed to a bar I passed by every day on my way to work but had never visited. Even though I remained friendly with my colleagues, I wasn’t big on socializing.
I wasn’t a fan of beer, either. But for Kellan’s brother, I cradled a bottle of Bud Light as we slipped onto two high stools.
“The Cut That Always Bleeds” by Conan Gray bounced against yellow neon walls. The interior made me feel like I’d teleported inside a submarine, and I would feel claustrophobic if it weren’t for the calming force of Tate’s gray eyes.
He sipped a Rusty Nail, bending the coaster in his huge palm. His hands were too distracting, so I stared at the wooden counter.
“I had my suspicions.” I tried to ease my way to the truth. “About Kellan wanting to commit suicide, I mean. But every time I broached the subject, he took it as criticism and shut me down. It didn’t help that, as time passed, we went through different changes. I was coming to terms with my baggage—sort of, anyway—while he continued piling more and more stuff into his. So, I turned to Principal Brooks.”
“Did you talk to her?”
“No, I wrote her a four-page letter. But I signed it under my name and told her I was ready to talk when she was. Never heard from her.”
Tate tipped his head back and finished his drink in one go. He slammed the glass over the counter.
“She dropped by after what happened. Gave me some cop-out, ass-covering speech about how she encouraged all of her students to seek therapy and talk openly about their feelings. Said St. Paul had two counselors at the students’ disposal at all times.”
“She knew,” I mumbled.
At the very least, she must’ve talked to Kellan, because he found out I narced on him and blocked my number.
“Unless she didn’t read the letter.”
“How can you not read an intimate letter? It’s too tempting, I think.”
Tate shrugged. “Not for everyone.”
I believed him.
I believed he took an interest in nothing and no one. He had this untouchable air about him, of someone who had once loved and lost and wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice.
I arched an eyebrow. “So, if you found unsent letters Kellan wrote and you knew he didn’t want you to read them, you wouldn’t read them?”
Tate didn’t miss a beat. “I wouldn’t.”
“Even if they were about you?”
“Especially if they were about me.”
I nibbled at my lower lip. “You’re weird.”
“And you’re stalling. Tell me more about Kellan.”
I granted his demand.
