Page 94 of Poison Aches

Someone has to put out those sparks before they burn not just her, but everyone else.

“So that was a warning?” Noah snorts. “How benevolent of you.”

I glance at him.

In the past few years, the little shit has faced so many life-altering shit and the result is this sharper, more perceptive mature man.

Before, Noah was just playful, could joke for several hours, and make others feel his infectious energy. Now, he’s exactly what he never wanted to be… a dangerous man.

“I’ve been known to be kind once in a red moon,” I shrug then look down at the little being in my arms.

For a moment there, I’d forgotten that Angel handed me the latest addition to the King clan as if she was passing on a hand grenade.

Knight gives me a hard glare. I give him one right back, but the little human doesn’t back down. He’s definitely King’s son, all right. Copy and paste.

“Why does your offspring look like he wants me to stop breathing right this instant?” I demand, scowling at Knight.

“Probably because he does,” King snorts.

“Why?” I ask the mini-King. “Do you also want to defend your favorite aunt’s feelings?”

Knight only glares harder, as if he understands what I’m saying. I notice the words on his little onesie, though. He probably does.

“Listen, dude, your aunt has a tendency of hurting herself for no reason. I’m just trying to help her avoid a… well, a calamity.”

And that’s the golden truth.

Let’s be clear about some things.

I’m not a good guy and I will never be.

Angel might’ve been safe if I hadn’t met her.

If the girl had stayed far away from that church cemetery, away from the estates, far from my town, from my world, then maybe, just maybe, that night wouldn’t have happened.

But that is still moot, because she entered my life the day she saw my mother.

“Avoiding a calamity?” Astraea folds her arms, ready to cuss me out. “Really?”

“More like he’s just being an ass,” Kimberly snorts coldly, while she glares at me.

I’m not particularly offended by Kimberly's or Astraea’s words, in fact, I think they’re right to be annoyed with me, but they need to be fucking real.

“And what would either of you have me do then?” I ask ever so politely, but I’m fucking livid at this point. One point due to the incessant questions and a hundred points all pointing to Angel. “Do you want me to lead her on, play her, make her think I’m into her, only to later abandon her when I will inevitably drop dead, which is likely to happen at any second now?”

The room falls into a stilted kind of silence that reeks of pity.

I almost gag.

It’s been a few years since everyone in this room found out about my condition.

Years of awkward silence and sorrow in their fucking eyes.

Worry and unwanted sympathy… all reminders of why I kept my fucking mouth shut in the first place.

People are fucking complicated and the group of friends I have are all more complex than the average next-door neighbor, but they’re also intelligent beings.

So why then do they act so fucking dumb at times?

---