Beautiful Venom: A Dark Hockey Romance (Vipers Book 1)

I cried so much, my head hurts.

I cried until I thought I’d never stop crying.

I cried for so long, I don’t think I have any tears left.

And now, I’m just numb.

My eyes track the looming trees from the back seat of the car as it takes me to my sister.

Somewhere in Rhode Island.

I pull my knees to my chest and lay my head on the window, letting grief wash over me.

When Julian told me everything, a part of me chose not to believe him. That stupid in-love part that trembled at the tiniest hint of Kane’s affection put its foot down and told me not to judge him.

Julian is not the good guy here. He threatened me with Grant the other day. Why would he be telling me this now?

So I asked the driver for a bathroom break and used one of those old pay phones.

I didn’t care what Julian said. I mostly followed his orders just to see Vi.

So I had to talk to Kane.

I had to hear him say it was all a lie.

But it wasn’t. A lie, I mean.

It was far from a lie and the closest thing to the truth that I’ve been searching for all these months.

The truth he clearly knew I was hunting for and still, he chose to toy with me.

Make me his entertainment.

Everything he said and did, from that first time in the arena to last night, was to keep me under control so I didn’t harm his friend.

To see how far I’d go before he crushes me.

A fresh wave of tears blurs my vision.

And it’s not only because I feel victimized or used. It’s deep rage.

The need to hurt him as much as he’s hurt me.

I want to punch his face and call him names. I want him to feel a sliver of the pain that’s ripping me open from the inside.

But I’d have to give up my sister’s safety if I were ever to consider seeing him again.

The sister he plotted to kill.

Kane and Jude.

They were the ones with the black rings my sister talked about in her journal.

The men who stalked her and made her life hell until she ended up in a coma.

I need to buy a gun. If I see them again, I’m shooting them between the eyes.

My dark thoughts disperse when the car comes to a halt in front of an old-looking house at the end of an empty suburban street.

The white fence is dirty and could use repainting, and the grass is tall and unkempt, as if no one has been at this place for months.

The partition between me and the driver lowers in a hush of mechanical movement before her voice echoes in the air. “We’re here, miss.”

I hear the click on the door unlocking and stare at the house, then the well-groomed driver, who I assume is also security detail, because I spotted her gun earlier. “Is my sister here?”

“Yes.” She looks at me through the rearview mirror. “The key is in the armrest.”

I open the compartment by my side and, sure enough, there’s a key branded #121.

My clammy fingers wrap around the cool metal and I exit the car.

As soon as I do, it drives away.

My heart is in my throat as I walk to the scratched-up white door.

The key doesn’t go in on the first try because of my sweaty hand.

On the second try, the door creaks open and I catch a glimpse of a baseball bat, then hear a furious battle cry.

My hand freezes on the knob.

The bat stops in midair.

The scream turns into a gasp.

Violet…?

For a moment, I think I’m in a dream. The light casts a shadow on her angelic features.

It’s really Violet.

She stands there, awake, alive, and so real, it knocks the breath from my chest.

Her strawberry blond hair looks thicker and glossier than I remember as it falls in soft waves, framing a face that’s no longer pale and hollow.

Her skin glows with health, flushed, alive, and her eyes—those deep, familiar blue eyes—are wide and filled with a spark I thought I’d never see again.

She looks…different. Still soft and demure, but there’s a void in her gaze. As if her soul was broken and she hasn’t exactly gathered all the pieces.

Still, I see my sister in those eyes.

Here.

Awake.

There’s grace in the way she holds herself, the way she looks stunning even when wearing a simple gray sleep shirt.

The bat falls from her hand and clatters to the old wooden floor as she whispers, “Dahlia.”

“Viiiii!” I jump her in a hug, wrapping my arms around her so tight, I’m surprised I don’t crush her.

My tears flow again from both joy and anguish.

Pain and relief.

Vi’s back.

Vi’s here.

She sniffles and hugs me tighter, her fingers stroking my hair. “Don’t cry.”

“Am not.”

“You so are.”

“You’re crying, too.”

“Am not!”

We both chuckle as we face each other, tears streaming down our cheeks.

I take her hands in mine and study her closely. “You okay? Do you feel any pain anywhere?”

She smiles through the tears. “I’m fine.”

“Is it true…? That you woke up a long time ago and made a deal with Julian to test his drug and be put in a coma?”

She hangs her head. “Yeah, I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was scared. I still am.” Her hands shake, her face turning pasty white. “I…didn’t want to drag you into this, but I think I already have. I’m so sorry, Dahl. I really am. I’ll pay you back for everything.”

“Hey.” I stroke the tears on her face. “Nothing I ever do will compensate for what you’ve done for me all these years. You don’t have to be sorry. You’re the victim here.”noveldrama

Her chin trembles and fresh tears form in her eyes, making them a darker denim blue. “I am not. The real victim is Susie Callahan, who was stabbed to death in front of me while I did nothing.”

“That…wasn’t your fault.”

“It is! It was! I could’ve stopped it, but I was a coward. I can…I can still hear her calling for help in my nightmares. All the time.” Vi falls to the floor, looking small and wounded.

I drop to my knees in front of her and hold her hands again. “You couldn’t have stopped it. The guy had a knife. Her tragedy doesn’t justify what Jude did to you.”

She grows still. Her sniffles, her trembling.

It’s like she’s turned into a statue.

Her fingers twitch in mine, her face so pale, I think she’s having a stroke.

“Vi?”

“He didn’t do anything.” Her voice is barely audible.

“What? Of course he did. He stalked and attempted to kill you.”

“He wasn’t behind what happened to me.”

I frown. “Then who was it?”

My heart thunders so fast, I think it’ll stop. It couldn’t be…?

“Was it K-Kane?” I ask, barely hearing my voice over the buzzing in my ears.

She shakes her head.

I hate how relief sinks in my chest.

“Then who?”

“You don’t need to worry about it.” She clutches my shoulders. “I’m a moving target, Dahl. You’re not. You should go. Maybe somewhere sunny on the West Coast. You’re smart and such a tough cookie, I’m sure you’ll be okay no matter where you go.”

“No! I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“Listen to me⁠—”

“No, you listen to me. You never abandoned me, no matter how hard it got. If you think I’ll ever turn my back on you, I’ve got a news flash for you. Won’t be happening.”

“These people don’t compare to our sleazy landlords or touchy foster parents, Dahl.” Her tone turns spooked. “They kill people and get away with it.”

“I know. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”

“You…have? Oh, Dahl.”

“It’s okay, nothing happened to me. Kane did it to protect me⁠—”

I bite my lower lip.

I need to gargle some bleach so I can stop thinking about him and saying his name.

“The guy you kissed on TV at the end of the last game?”

“Were you awake at that time?”

“Yeah, recovering.”

“I didn’t know back then. I’m sorry, Vi.”

“What are you apologizing for?”

“Getting in bed with the enemy.” And falling in love with him.

“Whose enemy?”

“Yours.”

“Kane’s not my enemy.”

“He’s the one who gave your name and information to Jude!”

She pales again. I noticed that whenever I say Jude’s name, she flinches.

“He would’ve found me anyway.” Her small voice is barely audible. “I’m the one who ran away when his mother was being killed.”

“That still doesn’t excuse what Kane did.”

“You love him, Dahl. I can see it through the pain in your eyes. I saw it when you held on to him and kissed him like you couldn’t live without him. If he treats you right, you should go back to him.”

“No way in hell. He lied to me. He knew everything and didn’t tell me. He played me like a chess piece. If I see him again, I’ll kill him.” I hug her once more. “Besides, I’ll never leave you. Ever.”

Violet’s only response is a sad smile.

Vi and I have spent the last couple of days catching up. We go on walks in the nearby park, then buy all the snacks and stuff our faces full. Though they’re now tasteless after that road trip with Kane.

Vi is Vi with her soft voice and little smiles, but she’s also not the same person from three months ago.

She still refuses to tell me who was behind the attack and often closes in on herself.

Sometimes, I catch her watching the windows with wide, frightened eyes as if she’s waiting for Satan himself to barge in.

She wakes up every night screaming. It’s gotten so bad, she barely sleeps and has dark circles surrounding her eyes in the morning.

I stand by the kitchen doorway as she prepares lunch and listens to the radio. If I ask her to go out, she refuses and insists I should either go on my own or go back to school and not sacrifice my scholarship for her.

She always thinks about everyone but herself.

I hate it so much because I don’t know how to make it better.

Or how to stop her from feeling like she’s waiting for her doom in this unremarkable, miserable place.

I stare at her movements—lethargic, with no soul, and entirely different from Kane’s purposeful strides when he’s cooking.

Damn it.

Why does everything make me think of him?

Vi notices me sulking and forces a smile. “Don’t just stand there. Come in.”

“Want me to help?”

“You can’t cook to save your life.”

“Wow, rude.” I pout. “I found a snow shovel in the garage. I’ll shovel the driveway.”

“All right. Be careful.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I salute and head back to the garage armed with a thick coat.

It’s full of some DIY stuff, tools, an old lawn mower, and a sharp-looking axe.

I put on some gloves, then drag it outside and bend down to tie my shoes.

As I’m standing up from my kneeling position, the sun gets blocked by a large cloud.

Wait. It’s not completely blocked.

I shield my eyes as I look up.

It’s definitely not a cloud.

The sight of him is like an electric shot to my heart.

“I like the position, wildflower.”