Sweet Venom by Rina Kent - 33

33

“ W hat are you even doing here?” Dahlia asks with a hand hitched on her hip while glaring down at Preston.

He merely picks up a few grapes and stuffs his face full of them, then searches his surroundings. “You talking to me, Dakota?”

“It’s Dahlia! You’re obviously doing this on purpose, prick! And scoot away. This was supposed to be a cute little picnic for Vi and me.”

“Nah, it’s me and Vee. You go climb Kane as if he’s a tree.”

Her face reddens, but she attempts to kick him, and he rolls away on the blanket after snatching a sandwich. I don’t think it’s okay or even easy to eat while rolling, but Preston seems to do it completely fine.

“She’s my sister, and I have priority,” Dahlia mutters, flopping down beside me.

“Finders keepers, ya know.” He rolls back close to us, propping himself up on his elbows and grinning.

He looks a bit different today, though I can’t quite place why. He’s dressed in jeans, a white shirt, and his Vipers jacket. His hair is more floppy, but his eyes are a bit dimmed.

Dahlia and I opted to have a picnic in the local park, considering the beautiful weather, and Preston decided to join as usual. It’s still a bit cold, though, so we’ll probably have to pack up and leave in a while.

Since it’s the weekend, the place is full of people walking, running, or playing tennis on the courts down the hill.

But from our position, we get a nice view of the town center and its centuries-old institutions.

The beauty of the setting and the pretty food I made for this picnic doesn’t seem to ease the tightening in my chest.

It’s been a week and a half since I last saw Jude in person.

I know I should take the ghosting as a sign. I’ve experienced that before with some guys, and it never bothered me. If anything, I was glad I didn’t have to talk to them and was relieved they chose to leave me alone.

So why the hell are those emotions completely absent now?

“You’re such a parasite,” Dahlia tells Preston as he munches on a piece of mango.

He narrows his eyes. “You seem to have stopped being scared of me, Delilah. Want a reminder that I can crush you?”

She gulps as if recalling something, and I stare at him. “Don’t threaten her again, Preston. I don’t like it.”

His serious expression morphs into a grin. “Okay! But she should stop talking shit if she can’t take it. Just saying!”

“That’s because you’re a⁠—”

“Dahlia,” I say pleadingly. “Can you just stop fighting?”

“Fiiine, but he shouldn’t be here like an intruder.”

“I’m here for Vee, not you. Look.” He points at the patch on his jacket with his number, 13, and last name on it. “She made this for me and didn’t make anything for you.”

“Did too. Vi’s made me countless embroideries. Who do you think she gave her first piece to?” Dahlia points at herself smugly. “That’s right, me. ”

His lips lift in a snarl, but then he smiles again. “Anyway, can you come to the next game, Vee? I’m pretty sure we lost the other day because you weren’t there. The jinx is real.”

My fingers tighten around the sandwich, and I audibly swallow the contents in my mouth. “I’m sure you’ll do great whether or not I’m there.”

“Nonsense. Jude was like a rogue wild beast.”

“Right!” Dahlia snaps her fingers. “He spent more time in the penalty box than on the rink. Kane doesn’t like to talk shit about him, but he’s totally the reason the Vipers got knocked to second place in the league.”

“The tragedy.” Preston bangs his fist on the blanket. “My ego is so wounded, I could die.”

“Well, the first loss of the season was because of you, so you’re both bringing Kane down,” Dahlia says, slurping from her can of Dr. Pepper.

Preston’s expression darkens in an instant. “You have a death wish or something, Dorothy?”

“Everyone loses at some point. Don’t take it to heart,” I say in an attempt to relieve the tension, even though I know quite well that the last game was Jude’s worst game of the season.

It’s not that I meant to watch it or anything, but I wanted to take a sneak peek and see how he was doing. Consider it nosiness or curiosity.

But at any rate, I ended up watching the whole thing.

Because even through the screen, I could see how perturbed he was, how he looked to be on edge, how he got too aggressive for no reason.

And even though I didn’t know what he was thinking, I could feel his pain and I knew he probably still hadn’t processed everything from that dinner .

I’ve wanted to reach out and help him, but he made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with me, and I have my pride, so I stopped sending unanswered texts and have stayed away from him.

My therapist made me realize it’s in my nature to empathize with others’ pain. It’s a way for me to accept my own pain and find solace in the fact that I’m not the only one who’s had to deal with shitty circumstances. I find comfort in knowing that people from all walks of life have had their share of misery as well—oftentimes worse than mine.

It’s why I go out of my way to volunteer or help those in need, even though I’m not better off. It’s why I stood by Laura and did my best, hoping she would win the custody battle—which she did while I was sleeping, by the way.

And while that’s good in theory, I have to set boundaries. I have to also prioritize my own well-being so that I don’t absorb others’ pain as if it’s my own.

It’s not.

I reached out to Jude and offered him emotional support, but he obviously doesn’t care for that. If anything, the steps I took to bring us closer were met with his complete retreat.

Apparently, I’m the only one who was thinking that what we had was something deeper, and his ghosting was the wake-up call I needed.

No matter how bad I feel for him, I deserve better than Jude’s cold shoulder and fluctuating interest.

Now, if I could stop thinking about him, that would be amazing.

“Everyone isn’t me,” Preston replies to my earlier statement. “I’m the god of this game.”

“Nah, that would be Kane,” Dahlia says with a note of pride .

“You’re biased, so your opinion doesn’t count.” He nudges me. “Who do you think is the best, Vee? And for everything that’s unholy, don’t say Jude.”

“I’m not an expert.” I smile.

“Don’t try to evade the subject. Wait a minute…you’re saying that so you won’t have to say Jude is the best, aren’t you?”

“I…don’t care about him.”

Dahlia strokes my shoulder, giving me an encouraging smile. She was the one who listened to me a few days after that dinner. I told her about how he was avoiding me, and she offered to teach him a lesson in pure Dahlia fashion.

“Yeah, he’s such a loser anyway,” she says. “Don’t know why everyone loves him so much when the dude clearly has anger issues.”

“Hey!” Preston sits up. “Don’t go talking about shit you don’t understand. His issues have explanations.”

Dahlia crosses her arms and lifts her nose in the air. “Whatever those explanations are, they don’t give him carte blanche to unleash his rage on others.”

“I don’t agree, but he totally messed up when it comes to you, Vee.” Preston lifts a shoulder. “You should’ve been the exception.”

“I’m fine, seriously. That’s life, right?”

“No, it’s not.” Dahlia breathes harshly. “He already stalked you and pushed you into a coma, so the least he can do is treat you right and grovel for the rest of his life. That fucking brute is hopeless. Don’t worry, Vi, I’ll find you someone better.”

“Me!” Preston raises a hand. “Over here. Me, Vee! Come on, don’t friend-zone me. Let me tell you something, the rumors about my dick size and performance are absolutely true. Free trial included. ”

“Oh, hell no.” Dahlia throws a napkin at him.

“Shut up, Dina. This isn’t about you.”

“Well, I’m making it about me. You think Jude will be okay with it if she switches to you?”

“Hmm. Good point.” He scratches his chin. “I suppose he won’t, but then again, that’s the whole idea!”

He takes my hand in his and interlinks our fingers, and before I can figure out what’s going on, he snaps a picture. Then starts to type on his phone.

“See!”

He shows us his phone. Preston has sent the picture to a group chat called The Vipers’ Den.

Preston

Congratulate me, motherfuckers. I have a girlfriend!

Kane

I won’t believe it until I see it with my own eyes. Meeting in fifteen, don’t be late.

Jude

Preston Aaron Armstrong! Why the fuck are you holding Violet’s hand?

My chest squeezes as I read his text a few times just to make sure I’m not seeing things. How did he even know it’s my hand when it’s not fully visible?

More importantly, why is he this attuned to me if he refuses to talk to me?

Preston types some more and Dahlia giggles, seeming to enjoy this as much as he is.

“Stop that, Pres,” I say pleadingly. “I don’t like playing these games.”

“Well, I do!” He waggles his brows, then shows us his texts again.

Preston

Why else? Because Vee is my girlfriend now. Finally!

Jude

I’m going to break your fucking neck if you don’t stay away from her.

Nah. Finders keepers, am I right? Of course I am. No need to answer that.

Kane

Great. He just arrived and now he took off. Count your days, Pres.

“Can’t say it was lovely knowing you, but RIP, Preston.” Dahlia laughs, clutching her stomach. “Serves that prick right. We should’ve done this before.”

“I know, right? I’m such an adorable Cupid.” Preston chuckles maniacally. “Let’s take one more picture just for fun, Vee.”

He grabs my hand, and I try to pull it away.

He pauses and pushes my cardigan up my wrist, his playful green eyes whirling with a cloud of confusion, then menace as he cocks his head to the side. “Why…do you have this?”

He lifts my bracelet with his index finger, his eyes hardening when they slide back to my face.

Dahlia has always told me that Preston is dangerous, but I’ve found that hard to believe since he’s only ever been cheerful to me and easily befriended me. This is the first time I’ve seen the version she’s talking about.

Unpredictable, unhinged, and…disturbing, even.

“It’s my mother’s,” I whisper and attempt to pull my hand back, but he keeps it in a firm grip.

“Did your mother steal it?” He frowns. “No, that’s impossible. Who gave it to her?”

“I don’t know. She just told me to keep it… Pres, you’re hu rting me.”

He releases me, his jaw tightening. “Remove it.”

“What?”

“Remove it, Violet. I need to check something.”

“Hey, why are you being a dick all of a sudden?” Dahlia moves on her knees a bit in front of me. “It’s progress she’s even wearing it after she buried it in a box her entire life. It’s a family heirloom.”

“I said. Remove it before I rip it from your wrist.”

I flinch.

“Hey!” Dahlia’s shoulders square, but I pat her arm.

“It’s okay. I don’t like it that much anyway.” I unclasp it and hand it to Preston.

He flips it and rotates something that holds the plate at the back, and just like that, the plate opens.

I watch in bewilderment as the two plates laid side by side reveal a crescent moon and a sun. The same symbol Preston has on the black ring he’s wearing on his index finger.

He aligns them. My eyes widen because the ring and the bracelet have the exact identical symbol.

Preston’s fingers trace the initials carved by the symbol. W.J.A.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He lets out in a breath. “What the fuck is this?”

“I don’t know,” I whisper. “This is the first time I’ve seen that. I…didn’t even know it could be opened.”

“This explains a lot of shit.” He watches me for a few beats, his eyes seeming to peer into mine. Then he stands up all of a sudden, clutching the bracelet between his fingers. “I have to go.”

“Wait.” I stand, too, and Dahlia follows, her brows knitting as she watches Preston carefully.

“I’ll give it back later.” He pauses. “If I can. ”

“It’s not that.” I step in front of him. “Is that symbol common? If it’s really valuable, maybe Mom stole it…”

“She would’ve never been able to steal my grandfather’s bracelet. So that means he willingly gave it to her.”

“G-grandfather?”

“Yes, Winston James Armstrong. This belonged to him at some point and has his initials. My father and uncle have similar ones. They’re usually offered by the father to his offspring, so I’m supposed to get one after graduating. Grandpa said he lost his a long time ago, but that doesn’t seem to be the case⁠—”

“Vi, watch out!” Dahlia’s scream punctures my ears as the loud revving of an engine and a popping sound echo in the air.

My first instinct is to push Preston, but as I do so, he swings us around so fast, I’m disoriented and lose my footing.

Dahlia screams again when I crash to the ground, and I think I’ve been hit.

But a heavy body is on me as a few other gunshots are exchanged. I catch a glimpse of Larson running with his gun out. Dahlia’s sobbing, and a very familiar warmth is enveloping me.

Jude.

I tap his shoulder. “J-Jude… I think…I think Pres…”

He gathers me in his arms, shielding me completely, but from over his shoulder, I can see a motionless body lying on top of the blanket, blood soaking his jacket and the grass.

And he’s not moving.

Preston is not moving.

Dahlia’s shaking, running toward me, but I push at Jude, and I run toward Preston on unsteady feet.

Because he’s bleeding out and not moving .

“No…no…no… Pres, please…no!”

Strong arms try to pull me back, but I’m screaming so loud, I can’t hear anything else.

This is a nightmare, right?

Please tell me I’ll wake up soon .

Please.