Page 82 of Venomous Kiss
She raises a perfectly manicured brow at my high-pitched tone. “Reon is an all-in type of guy, and he isn’t all-in with many people. But he went against the Society for you.” She continues rolling the dough. “If you don’t want to call it love, that’s fine.” She shrugs.
“What are you making?” I ask, trying to change the subject; the last thing I want to talk about right now is that.
“Pizza. You must be hungry, right?” As she says this, my stomach growls, pulling a smirk from her.
“Sorry, what is your name?”
“Abigail.” She wipes her hands on a cloth and then offers me one to shake. I lean forward and take her hand with mine. “And you’re Lilith. You met my other half, Hannah, I hear.”
Oh. That feels like a lifetime ago now.
“Yes, she didn’t like me very much.”
“That’s Hannah. She doesn’t like many people.” She starts adding cheese and meat to the pizza while I sit there. An awkward silence fills the room, and I look around. “I put your cell on the charger. It’s over there.” She points to a table in the living room and returns to making her pizzas. I get up and grab my phone, finding it fully charged. “I also called Arlo to come over to speak with you.” I freeze at that. “Lilith?”
“I should go. I don’t need to talk to anyone.”
“Are you afraid of Arlo?” she asks, and I remember in the forest how he was so surprised to see me there. Maybe he wasn’t in on it, but that did not stop me from doing what I had to do to survive, though. “I wouldn’t be. I have a gun under the counter right now and am not afraid to use it.” She winks as the doorbell rings. “Now, do you want to get it, or should I?”
“Does Reon know you called Arlo?”
“No. I figured Arlo is a therapist, so he is the best person for you to talk to. Was I wrong?”
I take a deep breath and walk to the door. My feet are bare, and I feel as though I’m walking on glass. They are so cut up and damaged. The pain shoots through me with every step, a relentless reminder of what I faced last night. Every step strengthens my resolve, propelling me forward with determination. I push aside the anguish with each faltering step and concentrate on the now.
“Caterpillar.” I stop at the sound of my name, and turn to see Reon emerge from his room. He’s scrubbing his hand through his hair, his shirtless chest on full display. “What are you doing? Come back to bed.”
I shake my head as the doorbell rings again.
“Reon, I called Arlo,” Abigail tells him.
Reon steps closer to me as I turn my hand on the doorknob. When I pull it open, Arlo is standing there, looking like he always does when I visit him—in a suit with his hair brushed neatly back—like nothing happened last night and I didn’t stab him in the arm. He offers me a small smile before his gaze shifts to Reon standing behind me.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Reon barks.
“I came to see my patient.”
“Oh, you mean the one you tried to kill last night?” Reon seethes. “You must have gotten hit in the head pretty fucking hard.” He easily pulls me behind him, and I move, too confused to fight him.
“Lilith, we need to talk,” Arlo says.
I shake my head, and he turns as Reon speaks. “You do not need to talk to her, and I highly suggest you never talk to her again. Because if you do, you will wish you weren’t fucking breathing.”
Arlo nods, then looks back at me and says, “Your father knows what happened. You need to go and see him.”
I gasp. “You told him?”
“Of course I did,” he says, as if I should have expected those words, then turns and leaves.
Reon slams the door shut, and both his hands go to his head, tugging his hair. His back is to me with his ink on full display. However, I notice a tattoo that wasn’t there the last time I saw him naked. Moving closer, I touch his back and tilt my head to get a better look. On his hip, I discover a caterpillar with a single butterfly above it.
“Why did you add this?” I ask, my fingers lazily caressing over the beautiful statement.
He stays still until I drop my hand, then turns around to face me. He rests his fingers on my cheek and then brushes them down my face. “You know why.”
“When did you add it?”
His other hand comes around my waist and pulls me in closer. “The night after Nashville.”
