Page 51 of Craving Venom

Or maybe because I don’t like the idea of someone hurting her.

I shake that last thought off real quick.

Okay, I need details. Who do I need to kill?

Too late. I already called dibs.

Fuck. And here I was, hoping for some entertainment.

She sends a middle finger emoji.

I chuckle, rolling my shoulders back.

So, what’s your plan? Are you planning a full-on psycho ex rampage, or are we talking slow and subtle?

Somewhere between a baseball bat and a hitman.

Ah, so efficient yet personal. I like it.

Damn straight. If I go to prison, might as well be for something good.

I smirk.

You wouldn’t last a fucking week in here, good girl.

Bitch, please. I’d be running the place.

I laugh, shaking my head.

I have no fucking clue what I’m doing.

And yet…

I don’t want to stop.

You’re laughing, aren’t you?

What makes you think that?

Because I just know.

I smile.

Fucking hell.

I am laughing because I don’t think you have it in you. So, lay it on me. How do you plan on taking this motherfucker out?

Well. First, I start with his car.

I scoff, already unimpressed.

Boring. Slashing tires? Sugar in the tank? Please tell me you’re more creative than that.

Oh, I am. You ever heard of brake fluid “accidents”?

Still a rookie move. The cops will trace that shit back to you.

Fine. Plan B. Poison.

---