Page 158
Chapter 158 of "Tempting Venom" begins revealing surprises: Thereās Judeās place lately, but we both know itās temporary and barely lived-in. We spend... Read on to find out!
Thereās Judeās place lately, but we both know itās temporary and barely lived-in. We spend more time outside than inside.
Thereās nothing ofā¦this. Whateverthisis.
In every corner of Marcusās home exists affection and warmth Iāve never experienced. Despite the chipped edges and marks, there are also signs of a childhood well spent, like the wall where Juneās scribbled Marcusās height alongside his age and countless hearts.
Mom wouldāve never done that. Itās not that she didnāt love me; she did, more than Dad, probably. But her affection fluctuated depending on her mood.
One day, weād be shopping and doing some cosplay and singing all over the house, and the next, sheād be drinking and grumbling and whining about Dad nonstop.
Whining and whining and fuckingwhining.
I wonder if June did the same about Andrew.
She better have. I already hate that prick Marcus more since I stepped into his house, seeing just what type of privileged upbringing he had.
Sure, I might be richer, but he has something a lot more valuable than money.
A parent who protected him when he needed protection.
I sink sideways on the mattress, staring at Marcusās desk in front of me.
This isā¦weird.
I shouldnāt be here in Marcusās house, in his bed, but I donāt move as I inhale him sharply, briefly closing my eyes.
Just a second.
Itāll only be a second.
Dark.
Itās all soā¦verydark.
Even the stars that used to accompany me are gone, their neon light snuffed out by the black fog thatās dragging me under.
A dense wave of smoke scrapes down my throat, and my stomach heaves in response, on the verge of spilling my guts on the floor.
But I canāt move.
Itās as if my body is made of heavy cement that keeps on sinking me down.
I open my mouth to scream, but no sound comes out.
Just silence.
And the dark.
Thereās so much of itāthe dark. Layers upon layers upon layers of pitch-black that cram into my throat, invisible hands asphyxiating me.
I canāt breathe.
A creak filters through from the door. The haunting squeak is low, but it crushes through my bones.
A franticthump-thump-thumpbleeds through the silence. Itās too fast, too loud, and I try to shield my ears.
No. Itās not coming from outside.
Itās coming from the cage in my chest.