Page 41
Starting Chapter 41 of "Tempting Venom": âNo clue what you heard from my old man, but no, it wasnât because of... See what happens next!
âNo clue what you heard from my old man, but no, it wasnât because of fucking Osborn.â
âI donât speak to your father about what happens in these sessions, Preston. I thought weâd established that.â
Yeah, but whatever.
I did test Dr. Duret once by telling her that Iâd be fucking shit up in Dadâs holiday house the following day, and I expected her to tell him, but she didnât.
That means she could be partially trusted. Only partially, though, because sheâs still getting paid by my dad.
âDo you believe thisâŚâ She stares at her notes. âOsborn is the reason you lost control?â
âDonât insult my intelligence.â
âWhatâs his full name? Osborn is the last name, no?â
âIâm sure you can look it up. Put âdegenerate asshole from Stantonvilleâ in the search bar, and his name will come up first.â
âIs that what you think of him?â
âYou would, too, if you met the motherfucker.â
âI sense strong emotions, Preston.â
âStrong revenge tendencies, yeah. Sure. He dared to touch me without my permission, not once, but two fucking times.â
Though I didnât really mind or care about the first time,becauseâŚwhat? He immobilized me? No. Itâs not that. I wouldâve fought if it were that.
âŚRight?
Letâs say it was the alcohol and drugs. Itâsalwaysthe alcohol and drugs.
Itâs definitelynotme.
âCan you believe it?â I sit, immediately launch back up, then start pacing like my soul is trying to outrun my body. âIslappedhis hand. I told him not to fucking touch meâtwiceâand he still kept coming like a parasite with main-character syndrome. He wants to fuck me. He does. Theyalldo. Every last one of those brain-rotted clowns only wants one thing from me. The goddamn, motherfucking, low-IQ gremlins with the combined brain capacity of a soggy napkin. I swear to God, Iâve survived more imbecile behavior in twenty-two years than an immortal would in a thousand. Iâm one encounter away from ascending out of my body and haunting people out of spite.â
Dr. Duret scribbles something in her notebook, and I freeze. âWhat are you writing about me? âNutcase threat to societyâ? Because that wonât work, you know. Dadâs completely against locking me up in a mental institution. Itâs his guilt talking for abandoning me and not being there when I was metaphorically locked up. He swore heâd never do that to me again, so you and Dr. Fenwick can let go of that little wet dream.â
âI donât want to lock you up, Preston. My notes are observations for my eyes only.â
I let out a harsh breath and drop back onto the sofa.
âYeah, right.â My voice comes out rougher, smaller, as the real feelings Iâve been shoving down since that disaster in the Stanton Wolvesâ arena finally start clawing their way up.
Itâs why I came to see Dr. Duret. Iâve been feeling like Iâm suffocating, and I needed to purge. Driving like a madman and nearly crashing my car didnât help. Sending Satanâs lover an old video of me fucking her best friendâyes, Gabrielle, the one she talked shit about me to when I was youngâalso didnât help. Made Dad really upset, though, mostly because his wife was throwing a fit.
Grandpa had me lashed because of the abhorrent behavior. Grandma called me a deranged freak.
Uncle Atlas told me I needed to learn how to pick my battles.
Dad just frowned at meâas always.
Though it was satisfactory to see Satanâs loverâs face contort in pure disgust and to know she lost her bestie, those emotions only lasted for a bit.
The suffocation returned way too soon after that.
So here I am subjugating myself to Dr. Duretâs emotionless company.
âIt hurt,â I whisper.