Page 18 of Retaliation

“Would he?” The question slipped out before she could stop it, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Challenge me for my territory?” A flicker of disbelief crossed his face, shadowed by a hint of hurt that twisted something inside her.

She swallowed, unsure how to respond, so she only nodded, grounding herself by stubbing out her cigarette in the ashtray, wishing the questions would stop bubbling up.

“Never,” he said, his voice soft but resolute. His eyes held her gaze, conviction radiating from him. “He’s one of my oldest friends, and he’s loyal to the bone. We’d take a bullet for each other without question.”

“We all need someone who’s got our back like that,” she murmured, managing a smile. There was something honest in his words, something that made her feel almost guilty for not trusting his friend, even if that nagging feeling lingered.

The tension between them eased a bit, and he nodded, his expression lightening. So she decided to let the matter rest for now.

Despite his reserved and contemplative behavior, Scorpion occasionally broke into episodes of frenetic energy and silliness, with abundant flirting in between. Yet, Poison could see layers beneath his calm exterior—shadows of a rough past and storms survived in silence. The things he had seen, the things he had done, were etched into his soul and flickered like distant storms in the unfathomable depths of his eyes, always questioning, always surveilling.

Each glance into those eyes, every thought of them, stirred an echo within her—a whisper of recognition, a fragment of bitter-to-the-touch memory, elusive and intangible. It was as if those eyes, so full of questions and shadows, had crossed her path in another life, leaving traces she could not figure out, a familiarity that haunted the edges of her memories.

They played another few rounds of pool before his phone buzzed, and he had to leave.

Lost in thought, she walked with him to their bikes, the churn of mixed emotions knotting in her stomach.

“What do you say?” he looked at her as if waiting for an answer she didn’t know the question of.

“Sorry,” she shook her head. “What was the question?”

“What’s on your mind?” he stopped and searched her face. His eyes bore into hers, and she struggled not to look away, her thoughts a jumbled mess.

“Have we met before?” she blurted out.

“Little Viper,” he coaxed, and despite herself, her toes curled at the nickname. “I think we both would have remembered if our paths had crossed before.” Reaching out, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear—his touch soft and his smile mischievous and warm.

A heat rushed to her face that didn’t go unnoticed by him. The back of his knuckles lightly stroked over her cheek. And she caught herself wanting to lean into his touch and stepped away.

“Your question?” she asked, trying to shake the oh-so-filthy thoughts from her mind.

Fuck, this man was dangerously close to breaking down every barrier she had so carefully built around herself her whole life.

He smiled and stuck his hands into his pockets as if physically needing to restrain himself from touching her. The gesture, subtle yet telling, sent a wave of conflicting emotions through her.

“I wanted to know if I could drive you home before I head back to work,” he repeated, his voice carrying a hint of hope.

“I’m alright,” she smiled, masking her inner turmoil with practiced ease. “I want to check up on a friend, so you can go ahead.”

“You sure?” he asked, and fuck, the look in his eyes made her believe he was disappointed. His eyes softened, and for a moment, she almost reconsidered.

But when she nodded, the disappointment flickered across his face like a shadow before he masked it with a grin. He got onto his bike and drove off, the roar of the engine echoing in the lot.

She waited, watching until his taillights disappeared around the corner.

Poison entered the lobby of her apartment building around three in the afternoon, her footsteps echoing in the mostly empty space. To her dismay, she bumped into her sleaze ball of a landlord.

“Just the missy I was looking for,” he drawled, a toothpick dangling from the corner of his mouth. His grin made her skin crawl.

“Vince,” she greeted curtly, trying to head for the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. She didn’t have the patience for his slimy presence today.

“Well, just hold on there for a moment, Missy.” His voice grated on her nerves, and she halted, waiting for him to waddle over to her.

“What can I do for you?” she asked, forcing her tone to remain civil.

“You’re earlier than usual,” he noted, his rat-eyes scanning her from head to toe, lingering a bit too long.

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