Sweet Venom by Rina Kent - 35

35

I couldn’t say goodbye.

Not when everyone else was.

Not even when Kane spoke about Preston, fighting emotions that were ripped out of us at a young age to tell the audience, that only came for the Armstrong name, how amazing Preston was.

How he was more than just Preston Armstrong.

How, despite his selfish speech and the grandiose way he talked about himself, he was actually the most selfless person on earth.

Only Kane and I knew the true Preston, but only one of us got up there and spoke about him as if he were listening. I was just trying not to punch everyone in sight.

All the fucking people—his parents, grandparents, and uncle, who seemed more interested in striking deals and turning his funeral into a show of wealth and extravagance.

The only reason I didn’t act on my thoughts was because Violet held my hand through the whole thing, not complaining or wincing whenever I tightened my grip. She even stroked the back of it with her thumb as if she could feel I was spiraling.

Despite my stone-cold face and lack of emotions, Violet could tell that I wasn’t all right .

That I won’t be for a long time.

I don’t know what state I’d be in if she hadn’t been by my side these past couple of days. Even when she was sleeping, the fact that she was there, breathing softly against my face while I held her hand, was enough.

Her hand in mine earlier was enough.

But I sent her with Kane and Dahlia. She hesitated to leave me, but she finally agreed when I told her I needed to be alone.

Now, after everyone has evacuated the cemetery, I’m on my own, staring at the soil that’s damp with drizzle.

To say goodbye.

I don’t want to say goodbye.

The cemetery feels too quiet now that everyone’s gone.

The mourners left in sleek black cars, the sound of their hushed voices swallowed by the hum of expensive engines and crunching gravel. The Vipers team was the last to go. Some of the guys shed tears as they spoke after Kane about how Preston was the life of the team.

But they’ll all forget about him soon enough.

He’s just returned to dust, as the priest said, praying for forgiveness from a God Pres never believed in. A God who’d fucked him over since he was a kid, then took his life too soon. As a last fuck-you of sorts.

Now that the whole charade is over, it’s just me, Preston’s grave, and the light, steady rain soaking into the earth like the sky itself is grieving.

The gray clouds hang low and swollen, pressing against the horizon, stretching over the rows of headstones like a heavy, unbroken shroud.

I release a long, fractured exhale as the wind moves through the towering oaks, rustling the dead leaves that cling stubbornly to the branches. Every so often, a gust sends them spiraling down, landing in damp piles that reek of decay.

I shove my hands into my pockets, and my fingers curl into fists. Cold seeps into my skin, settling deep in my bones, but that’s nothing compared to the hollow space inside me. The one Preston used to fill with his sharp tongue and that smirk that made me want to either punch him or laugh along.

I stare down at the headstone.

It’s polished, expensive, a witness of the Armstrong wealth carved into stone. The inscription ‘Preston Armstrong’ is neat but impersonal. Pretty sure Lawrence approved it without a second thought as if it were a business deal. It doesn’t say anything about who he really was, what he really meant.

Just a name. Just dates.

Like he was just another goddamn statistic.

First, it was my mom. Now, it’s Preston.

And I couldn’t stop either from leaving.

I exhale slowly, my breath curling into the damp air, mixing with the faint scent of wet earth and rotting leaves. It feels wrong to say anything.

But I do.

“You went out like a fucking idiot,” I mutter, my voice rough, cutting through the thick silence. “Pres…I don’t think I’ll be able to forgive myself for not being there in time, so while you saved Violet, I would’ve been able to save you. Or better yet, I would’ve saved her, and you’d be standing here instead.”

The words hit the empty air, disappearing into the mist that clings to the ground like ghosts waiting for company.

A raindrop slips down the edge of the stone, trailing like a tear.

I rake a hand through my damp hair, my jaw tightening .

“You were supposed to outlive us all, not go out like this.” My voice drops lower, almost drowned out by the whispering wind. “You said we’d be stuck together for life when we were in that godforsaken boarding school, so how the fuck —” I choke on my words, then whisper, “Why did you have to go so soon? Who the hell is going to join me on my revenge murder sprees to bring you justice now? You’re well aware Kane can be boring, and truly, you’re the glue that held the three of us together. Just seeing his face reminds me of you, of all the times the three of us spent together, and it feels…feels like I’m suffocating without you.”

The drizzle thickens, soaking into my jacket, dripping off the leaves, tapping against the marble like a quiet funeral drum. The wind shifts, carrying the faint scent of laughter, whiskey, and blood—memories of late nights, bad decisions, and an unorthodox friendship that just worked.

Until it suddenly ended.

“Thank you, Pres. For being there for me, for saving Violet even though you barely know her.” I let out a breath. “I promise I’ll rip out the heart of whoever killed you with my bare hands.”

I don’t know how long I remain at the cemetery, but it’s long enough that I’m soaked and the day turns into night.

No matter how long I talked to Preston, I felt like he couldn’t hear me. That, somehow, he’s in a different space than me, and I can’t reach him.

So I went for a ride on my bike, letting the wind consume me, but even that did little for my jumbled thoughts and feelings.

Which is why I find myself in Violet’s apartment again .

I remove my shoes and jacket and even my damp pants and shirt, remaining in my boxer briefs as I step into the darkness. I don’t need lights to know my way around her place. I’ve been here countless times, waiting to ambush her, surprise her, listen to that delicious yelp she releases whenever she sees me.

Once I reach her bedroom, I hesitate, then slide the door open and walk in.

Violet is lying on her side, covered with the sheet to her chin. I approach her, not making a sound.

The light from the atmospheric crescent lamp she always keeps on at night shines on her peaceful features.

I lie down on my side, facing her, my hand resting on hers, and my mind calms slightly, my breathing almost shattering just at the feel of her.

While I have no clue what angels look like, Violet is my version of a goddamn angel. No idea what the fuck I’ve done to deserve someone like her in my life, but I’ll do everything in my power to ensure that she stays right here.

Being mine.

She gave me time alone in the cemetery earlier upon my insistence and probably because she felt I needed it. I now know why she’s so attuned to people and how she can determine their needs even before they voice them.

She’s a healer, my Violet.

And someone like her, someone who feels too much and can be easily taken advantage of, needs a motherfucker like me to keep all the vultures at bay.

I slide my fingers along the tear streaks on her cheeks. She’s been crying herself to sleep since Preston’s death, and I know she blames herself for it, no matter what Dahlia and I say, but I won’t allow her to self-destruct .

If I have to be her watchdog twenty-four seven, so be it.

Her eyes slowly blink open, the blue swirling in a pit of confusion before a small smile tilts her lips. “You’re here.”

“I’m here,” I whisper.

She grabs onto my hand that’s resting on her cheek and stares at me for a beat too long. “I’m so sorry, Jude.”

“For what?”

“Everything that’s happening to you lately. First, you find out about your mom and then…” She gulps, her lips wobbling.

Her words feel too raw, too intimate, and like me, she probably still can’t believe what happened to Preston. My chest feels like it’ll explode when I think about the fact that I’ll never see him again.

Part of me refuses to come to that conclusion.

“My mom never meant to die that violently,” I say, addressing Violet’s first statement just so I won’t have to talk about my best friend that I left six feet under this afternoon.

“No?”

“No. According to Julian, who questioned the murderer before he killed him, Mom asked him to make it look like theft gone wrong and instructed that she’d only be stabbed once or twice fatally. But apparently, that man took it as carte blanche to enact his disturbed fantasies.”

“That makes sense.”

“Makes sense how?”

“She obviously didn’t want to hurt you, even if her mental illness pushed her to do things she would’ve never done if she’d been well.”

“Yeah. I’m learning to accept that.”

“Good.” She rubs my hand back and forth. “You deserve to keep whatever image of your mother you wish to, Jude. You’re lucky to have received motherly love, even if it wasn’t perfect, and I don’t believe you have to demonize her to accept the truth.”

“I won’t, no matter what Regis tries to say.”

“I love that you think that way.” She smiles softly.

I stroke her cheek. “You also deserve motherly love, and just because you didn’t receive it doesn’t mean you’re not whole.”

She gulps audibly, a shine appearing in her eyes. “I wish one of the adults had told me that at the time. Maybe if they had, I wouldn’t have felt like it was normal, that it was my duty to make myself as small as possible in front of her, or that women are meant to be used by men. It screwed up my whole perception, you know.”

“Screwed up your perception how?”

“I thought it was okay for one of her clients to rub my thigh or stroke my face, even if it made me uncomfortable. Afterward, I thought it was my fault that my foster father kept looking at my growing breasts, being touchy-feely with me, or attempted to rape me, because I wasn’t covering up enough and was tempting him. I thought unsatisfactory and emotionally hurtful sex was the norm. That women aren’t supposed to enjoy it because Mom never looked like she did. But it turns out, I got everything wrong. It was painful to realize that I was let down by all the adults in my life, that most of the men in my life preyed on me since I was young, and that sex should only feel good. Sometimes, I’m happy I’m making these realizations so I can fix my mindset, but other times, I’m just sad that I missed out on so much.”

Hot fire burns through my chest, but I continue to rub her skin, trying as hard as possible not to let anger get a hold of me .

“Sorry for the trauma dumping.” She smiles awkwardly. “I swear I don’t do this all the time. I guess… I really love talking to you about everything because you’ve always given me a safe space.”

“And I always will. Don’t be sorry for finally using your voice, Violet. I’m here for you.”

“I’m also here for you. Whether you want to talk about your mom, your dad, Vencor. All of it.”

“What do you know about Vencor?”

“The basics, I suppose.”

I lift a brow. “Dahlia, I presume?”

She nods.

“I don’t know what she told you, but Vencor doesn’t mean much to me. It means a lot to my father and Julian for sure because they’re power-hungry, but not me.”

“You don’t care about power?”

“I did while my mother was alive.”

“But not anymore.”

It’s not a question, but I nod. Though I don’t tell Violet that I’ll have to start caring again. Aside from Regis and Julian, Kane also cares, and he’s deeply entrenched in the organization after taking the reins of the Davenport family.

“You can’t protect Violet if you remain on the sidelines while Regis and Julian confiscate the limelight, Jude.”

That’s what he told me the other day. He’s always firmly believed that we need to be at the top to shield who and what we care for, and he’s right. I need to become deeply involved again.

Not only for power, but also to be a thorn in Julian’s fucking side.

I still haven’t forgiven him for the coma fiasco, and I’ll make sure to spend the rest of my life making him pay for it .

Violet sighs. “I’m so glad you came over tonight.”

“I thought you didn’t like my stalkerish tendencies.”

She lifts a shoulder. “I think we’re past that phase.”

“I made your life hell and threatened to kill you. How can you so easily get past it?”

“I don’t like holding grudges.” She chuckles a bit. “Dahlia tells me I’m too nice and I need to be meaner, but I just can’t. It’s not in my nature to actively hurt others, and I know that’s frowned upon in today’s world, but I like to hold on to who I am. I’m learning to set boundaries and stuff, but I can’t become mean just because my life sucked. I don’t believe those who aren’t involved should pay for my pain.”

“But I am involved.”

“As long as you don’t hurt me anymore, I can forgive and forget. But don’t ice me out again.”

“I won’t. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I was having a hard time and didn’t want to burden you with it or take it out on you.”

“That’s the point of having each other, Jude.”

“Okay.”

“I mean it. If you stop communicating, I’ll do the same. I’m no longer someone others can stomp on while I lie there and take it.”

“Good girl.” I stroke beneath her eyes, and she shivers. “I’m proud of you.”

“You…are?”

“Hm. You’ve come a long way from being a scaredy-cat who used to run away from any form of confrontation, sweetheart.”

“Speaking of confrontation.” A line appears between her brows. “Do you know why I need to be present when Preston’s personal will is going to be read?”

A sharp sting of pain cuts through me, and Violet must see the change on my face, because she tightens her grip on my hand, leaving it square on her face.

I know why Lawrence asked Violet to be present—because of the bracelet that’s an Armstrong heirloom.

While I’m not sure what that entails, I’m certain it’ll explain something about her mother’s disgusting behavior. Violet tends to close off whenever her mother is in the picture, so I mull over my words to avoid scaring her off.

“He probably mentioned you.” I frown. “Though I find it hard to believe that he kept his personal will up-to-date. Maybe Lawrence made him update it regularly.”

“He seemed off,” she whispers, her words faltering for a bit. “Lawrence, I mean. It was as if he was conflicted.”

“Mm. He had a strange relationship with Pres. Not as weird as the one Pres had with his mom, though.”

“At least he looked like he was a bit in pain, which can’t be said about the rest of the Armstrong family.” She sounds angry for Preston.

One thing Violet will do is get extremely offended on behalf of the people she cares about.

“I’m kind of apprehensive about going to the Armstrong house again,” she continues. “The grandparents and the stepmom have an odd vibe. I can’t put my finger on it.”

“You’re just a natural at reading people. It’s better to stay away from those three, but you don’t have to worry…” I pull her closer. “I’ll be right by your side.”

Violet wraps her arms around me, her voice sounding muffled against my chest. “Thank you. I needed that.”

“I thought you only needed Dahlia.”

She pulls her head back, tracing both her hands along my chest tattoos, lingering on the barren tree. “Are you jealous of my sister? ”

“Only sometimes. Will I have to see her all over you in the morning?”

“No, she’s spending the night with Kane. He needs her more than I do.”

“You don’t need anyone when you have me.”

She smiles slightly, her eyes still so fucking sad, but she’s trying her hardest to cheer me up. “Okay, Mr. Petty. Don’t put my sister on your shit list.”

“Hmm. Depends.” I kiss her throat, breathing her in and releasing a long fucking grunt at the taste of her.

Goddammit, she’s like a rush of blood to the head.

“O-on what?” Violet tilts her neck, giving me access as I pepper kisses down her throat to her collarbone and pull out a breast from her nightgown, sucking hard on the nipple until she moans.

Her hands grip my shoulders for balance, her back arching, pushing more of her breast into my mouth.

“On whether or not I’m important to you, sweetheart,” I speak against her nipple, feeling her shiver, and then drag the gown over her head until she’s lying naked in my arms.

A blush covers her skin, and her pussy glistens, making me grunt. I love how she goes to sleep without any underwear since I started visiting her at night on the regular.

“You are…” Her voice is husky, slightly broken because I’m sucking on her nipple again as I thrust two fingers inside her.

Violet’s hips roll, almost grinding against me, provoking my cock into a full-blown erection.

“How important?” I scissor my fingers inside her, alternating to the other nipple, sucking, biting, making her writhe on the mattress.

My cock is aching to be inside her, absolutely fucking ravenous for this woman. I don’t even know when she became my one and only, but she has.

I’ve never looked at another woman since she came into my life. And even before her, I barely paid them any attention.

Violet changed my entire fucking perception.

She’s the light in an otherwise gloomy world.

She’s the peace not even hockey is able to provide me.

“ Very important.” She moans, grabbing onto my boxer briefs. “F-fuck me, Jude.”

“Jesus Christ. Say that again, sweetheart.”

“Fuck me.” She wraps her trembling hands around my neck, her eyes glistening. “I need you.”

My cock is rock fucking hard as I tug the boxer briefs off and throw them aside.

Then I’m on top of her, my cock nudging inside her as I tighten my grip on her throat. “I’m the one who needs you, Violet.”

Her short nails scrape against my back, her heels digging into my ass. “Go harder, Jude. Mess me up.”

“Mmm.” I thrust inside her in one ruthless go, and she hums in my arms. “When you talk like that, you make me feral.”

“More…”

“Fuck.” I pull out, then push in until her head rolls back and her noises of pleasure fill the room.

“Yes…right there…please…”

“You’re taking my cock like a very good girl, Violet.” Pull out. Thrust. “I’m the only one who’s allowed to ravage this little cunt, aren’t I?”

“Yes, yes…oh God.”

I slap the side of her ass cheek three consecutive times. “I can be your god, Violet. I’ll be your fucking everything. ”

Thrust. Slap.

She shudders, her body molding to mine, her noises ricocheting in the silence of the night. I love the look on her face when she comes, how her lips form in an O , and she has this otherworldly look in her eye.

I love how she’s comfortable holding me close as her pussy clenches around my cock.

Every time she does that, I want to frame it so I can look at her beautiful form.

As she’s coming, I release her throat, pull open the side drawer, and retrieve some lube.

Violet is still trembling when I squirt the gel on my fingers and part her legs. “Be good and hold these for me.”

She blinks, then grips her legs, staring up at me in her post-orgasm haze.

I get on my knees, still moving inside her as I slide a finger into her back hole.

She blushes, sinking her teeth into her lower lip. “Are you still shy about me touching this tight little hole, Violet?”

“A bit—” She moans when I add another finger, her pussy clenching around my cock.

“You’ve taken three of my fingers before, sweetheart. You have to fit my fingers properly to take my cock. Relax for me.”

She bites her lip again but nods. “You’re stretching me out.”

“That’s the plan.” I drop a kiss on her nose, and she relaxes. “Well done. Good fucking girl.”

That makes her relax further, and I thrust another lubed finger. She tenses at first, but then mimics my breathing, her pussy clenching around me as I thrust in a deep, long rhythm. I can feel the thin layer separating my cock from my fingers and it makes me hum .

“Oh God…if you do that while fucking me, I’m gonna… I’m gonna come…”

“Not yet.” I pull out from her pussy, and even though my cock is glistening with her juices, I lube myself up. “You’ll come with my cock in your ass.”

As I drench my fingers, she moans, watching me expectantly.

“You’ll take my cock in this tiny hole so that I own every inch of you, won’t you, sweetheart?”

She nods, and I grunt as I flip her so that she’s on her elbows and knees, then slide a pillow beneath her stomach. “Ass in the air, Violet. Show me my ass.”

Her limbs shake a bit as she lifts it higher, sinking further into the bed.

“God fucking dammit, you’re beautiful.” I position myself behind her. “The most beautiful fucking person on earth.”

Her head on the mattress, she shifts slightly to the side so that her eyes meet mine. “I am?”

“You are.” I slap her ass. “Don’t question it.”

“It’s not that…”

“Then what is it?” I start pushing into her ass, and her muscles tighten. “Don’t let your body fight me…focus on breathing and talk to me.”

“It’s that…” She wiggles her ass, relaxing further, taking more of me. “I love being called beautiful by you.”

Fucking Christ. I can’t come when I’m barely inside her ass.

I can’t come yet.

Not yet.

“I only call you what you are, sweetheart… Mmm. That’s it. Take this cock deeper. Can you feel your ass stretching for me? ”

A slight noise is the only answer she gives.

“Does it hurt?” I slap her a few times, admiring how fast my handprints appear on her pale flesh.

“Yeah, but I like it.” She moans. “More…please.”

“Fuck, Violet. You’re turning me into a madman.”

She chuckles slightly. “One would argue you’ve always been one.”

“Was that sarcasm?”

She hides her face in the mattress so I don’t see her smiling.

Fuck.

She’s adorable.

And genuine.

And so goddamn sweet.

Grabbing her hip, I pepper kisses on her back, on the tiny scars that tell the story of her tough childhood and life. On every blemish and freckle and mole.

All the while I massage her clit.

“J-Jude…what are you doing?”

“Worshiping you.”

Unlike how I fucked her pussy hard and fast just now, this time, I go slower, deeper, until she feels every inch of me.

“Fuck, you feel so goddamn good, you know that? I could be inside you all day, sweetheart.”

She moans, her ass pushing against me, demanding, wanting, making my cock weep in agony.

I release her hip and grab her hair, pulling her up until I’m breathing her air. Her eyes are shining with tears, but that’s because she gets so fucking emotional, even when she’s horny, my Violet.

“You’re mine.”

“Yours.” She gasps, and I grow bigger inside her .

Can’t help it. This girl speaks, and I’m a goddamn animal.

“Are you also mine, Jude?” she asks in a voice that’s trapped between a moan and groan.

“Always.”

She’s kissing me then as she shatters against me, her noises and groans spilling into my mouth like an aphrodisiac.

I kiss her deeper, faster, matching my tongue to my cock’s rhythm until I’m grunting and spilling inside her in long fucking spurts.

I come like I’ve never come before.

Like the world is ending, and Violet is my sanctuary.

And when she holds on to me like I’m her lifeline, I promise that I’ll protect her till the end of my days.

However long that might be.