Page 55
Chapter 55 of "Tempting Venom" begins revealing exciting developments: When he got close to you, did you notice anything special? Like a mark or... Donāt stop now!
When he got close to you, did you notice anything special? Like a mark or a tattoo?
Kane
Just give me something, and Iāll find out who the fuck dared to trespass on our property.
Either show up and keep me company or stop yapping like bored housewives.
Itoss my phone onto the bench in the Vipersā locker room and finish taping my hands.
Yeah, yeahāIām the worldās biggest liar for keeping the entire forest clusterfuck to myself. But seriously, what was I supposed to say?
āHey, Kane, Jude. So the masked intruder was totally Marcus Osborn, and I let him beat the shit out of me, because, surprise, I guess Iām into that. Also, fun bonus, Iām ninety-nine percent sure I got hard. Any thoughts?ā
Yeah. No.
Iād rather tie a noose around my own neck and hang from the rafters like a festive little corpse, thanks.
My method of coping is choosing to believe that the entire thing didnāthappen.See?It works.
Nothingdramatic.
Just anormalday likealldays.
Kane and Jude are just being over the top with the whole āyou lost your mindā thing. Theyāre the ones who overreacted by knocking me out, the fuckers. I was just going to block Osbornās exit and hunt him the fuck down.
Theyāre the reason I couldnāt proceed with my plans, so if they want to blame anyone, they should start with themselves.
But honestly? Maybe chasing Osborn wasnāt my brightest moment after what happened under that tree.
I definitely shouldnāt want to feel like that again.
Letting myself unravel, allowing someone to handle me like Iām not a human but a problem to be solvedāyeah, something has to be deeply, fundamentally wrong with me.
Andsurprise, it is. Ask Dr. Duret or Dr. Fenwick. Theyāve probably got matching PowerPoints about me.
But the thing isā¦in that moment, something inside me just snapped open and came undone. With the taste of copper in my mouth, pain in my ribs, my brain buzzing like a busted neon signāand instead of shutting down, Iā¦loosened up. Let go.
I know, I know. Itās pretty fucked up. If there were awards for psychological disasters, Iād sweep the entire ceremony.
But the truth is idiotically simpleāI only ever feel like I exist when Iām being hurt.
When the pain registers, adrenaline fires. A hit, a crash, a bruise, and suddenly, Iām back in my body again instead of floating ten feet above it like a malfunctioning ghost.
It makes me feel alive.
Thatās why I love hockey. The impacts, the slamming into the boards, the speedāit puts me back together for a second.
Itās the only time Iām not trapped in my head, not lost in static, or wrestling whatever impulse decided to ruin my day.
On the ice, things make sense when focus sets in, and chaos fizzles out.
I pick a target, annoy the shit out of them, score, win.
Boom.Life formula achieved.
Except for that godforsaken Wolves game when a certainassholeturned the tables on me.
Said asshole also started texting me right after that night in the forest.