Sweet Venom by Rina Kent - 39

I ’m starting to doubt my decision to cater an after-practice party to boost the Vipers’ morale.

Ever since Preston passed away, everyone has been down. They lost two consecutive games, and team spirit has been so low, Dahlia has been worrying nonstop.

But more importantly, Jude doesn’t seem like he wants to touch a stick anymore.

It’s not good.

Hockey isn’t only his venting outlet, but it’s also the one thing he picked for himself outside of his familial obligations.

He’s never been in his element more than when he’s on the ice, crushing the opposing team’s defense. But during the last game, he kept looking around as if searching for Preston’s ghost.

Yes, he smiled upon seeing me in the stands, even released a heavy breath. But my presence and Preston’s aren’t interchangeable.

The wound he left behind is still agape, and it hurts when I see all the team players in their Vipers jackets and he’s not amongst them, throwing out a random joke, bickering with Jude, or annoying Kane just because he can.

I think Jude and Kane feel it, too, because even Dahlia thinks they have to force themselves to be on a team that’s full of Preston’s memories but without him there.

“Do you think I’m making it worse?” I whisper to Dahlia as she swallows the mouthful of roast chicken.

We’re standing by the buffet table set up in the campus’s conference hall with the words ‘Go Vipers!’ embroidered on a banner I personally made.

The space is big, but it’s crowded with large hockey players who make it feel small.

The managing team is gathered in the corner, eating and chatting, while a few volunteering GU students—who helped Dahlia and me organize all this—mingle nearby. But most of the help came from Jude’s men.

The bodyguards are also surrounding the arena. They’re everywhere now—both from Jude’s father and my biological father. Despite my making it clear that I have no plans to change my life or fit into the Armstrong family.

Winston and Lawrence didn’t like that, but as Jude promised, they’re leaving me alone.

At least, for now.

I truly don’t like the family that didn’t really mourn Preston and moved on with their lives as if he never existed.

But he did.

Sometimes, I can see his ghost amongst us, and it squeezes my chest.

Even though I only knew Preston briefly, I don’t think I’ll ever forget him.

I can only imagine how it feels for Jude and Kane, who knew him their entire lives .

“No, it’s really good.” Dahlia grins. “They needed this after the game two days ago.”

I take a sip of water. “I don’t think Jude and Kane look any better.”

“I don’t think they will for a long time. Preston was like their brother, you know.” She rubs my shoulders. “But at least they have us, right?”

I nod.

She places the plate on the table and squeezes me in an aggressive hug. “Ugh! I’m so glad you’re back!”

“Me, too.” I pat her shoulder, smiling.

A strong arm wraps around my waist, pulling me away, and my heart does that squeezing thing that happens whenever Jude is near.

I used to think this sensation was an anomaly that would eventually fizzle out, but I’m becoming more obsessed with this man, more attuned to him, and addicted to the way he worships me with every touch.

Every word.

Even right now, I love how his usually harsh eyes soften upon seeing me as his thumb draws circles on my hip.

God, he’s beautiful and—this might come as a surprise—charming.

Yes, he’s rough around the edges and will never be that soft, but I love the peaceful look on his handsome face when he’s with me.

I love that he releases a sigh of relief upon seeing me.

And I melt inside upon seeing him. Seems I’m truly head over heels for my former stalker.

The other day, I talked in therapy about how I seem to crave love from my abusers—my mom, mostly—and the doctor asked me if I think that’s the case with Jude .

I smiled as I shook my head. Jude might have stalked me, and we may have started off on the wrong foot, but he never abused me, neither emotionally nor physically. If anything, he empowers me and offers me a safe space to be both vulnerable and myself.

He plays an important role in my healing journey, and I don’t crave his love because he’s my abuser.

I crave his love because he makes me a better person, and I like to think I bring out the best in him, too.

“Why the hell are you taking my Vi?” Dahlia protests.

“She’s my Vi. Go to Kane.”

My sister scoffs and then mouths to me, “What do you even see in this brute?”

“The same thing you see in Kane,” he replies, obviously having heard her.

“Dahlia,” I whisper-yell.

“Fine.” She kisses me on the cheek and waggles her brows at Jude before she dashes in Kane’s direction.

I smile up at him. “Don’t mind her. She can be a bit petty.”

He lowers his head and kisses me on the same cheek, lingering there longer than needed.

Heat creeps up my neck, and I swallow, his hot lips sending tingles up my spine.

“There. Much better.”

I clear my throat because he kind of ignited my whole body with just a kiss on the cheek. “Wow. You’re as petty as Dahlia.”

“Damn straight.” He strokes my cheek. “Thank you for putting all of this together. You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. Besides, your men did most of the work anyway.”

“What did I say about not taking credit for what you do, sweetheart? You’re the one who came up with the idea and even cooked some dishes.”

“I only did that to make you feel better, but I don’t think it’s working.”

“It is.” He pulls me into a tight embrace, his muscular arms wrapping around me like a protective cocoon. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t by my side.”

I sink my nails into his jacket. “I’ll always be here, Jude. You won’t get rid of me that easily.”

“Joke’s on you.”

We remain like that for a few moments.

We often do this now—just hugging to recharge. To feel the other’s breath and know we have each other no matter what.

It makes me feel safe.

It makes me think of something more than pain.

I know I still have a long way to go before I can kick the ghost of Mama from my mind and finally accept myself the way I am, but I know it’ll be easier with this stupidly big man by my side.

“The audacity to throw a party and not invite my highness.”

The entire place goes silent. No more chattering or clattering of utensils or even…breathing.

I reluctantly pull away from Jude, and we both stare at the doorway where the very familiar voice just came from.

Everyone is looking in that direction.

At the ghost of Preston Armstrong standing there with his usual grin, paired with deep dimples in his cheeks and a gleam in his light eyes.

He’s wearing jeans and a white jacket with the Vipers’ blue logo on his chest .

I blink twice, but he’s still there.

In person.

Everyone else is seeing him, too, judging by the wide, unblinking eyes.

He cocks his head to the side. “Miss me?”

“P-Preston?” one of the guys stutters.

“Drayton! You can see me?” Preston mock gasps. “Just kidding. I’m not a ghost. Said every ghost ever! Muahaha!”

When no one reacts, too in shock to even speak, he releases an exasperated sigh. “This surprise drop is flopping so hard. Anyway, you can kiss the hand one at a time, peasants. Heard you bitches are ruining our championship.” Another sigh. “Things just don’t work out without Preston. I’m telling you⁠—”

Jude jogs toward him.

“Hey, big man! You missed me, didn’t you? Life sucked without me, didn’t it?”

Jude grabs him by the collar, shaking him. “You motherfucking⁠—”

“Ow, ow.” Preston taps his hand. “I was shot, you Neanderthal. It still hurts.”

Jude reluctantly releases him as Kane and all of us form a small circle around Preston.

He’s here.

He…apparently came back from the dead.

“What the fuck happened?” Kane’s voice is a bit tight, but I can hear the relief beneath it. “We buried you with our own hands.”

“Did I look hot dead?”

“Preston,” Jude warns.

“Boo, what a killjoy.” Preston sighs. “I was in a medically-induced coma. ”

“But the doctor said…” Kane trails off.

“Dad’s idea. Don’t look at me.” Preston’s eyes light up. “Did he cry when I was shot?”

“No,” Jude tells him.

“Did he just sigh, then? Ugh, the unoriginality is killing me.” Preston’s shoulders hunch, then he perks up again. “Heard Granny’s gone. Yay! Never liked that old woman. She called me crazy all the time, then shot me! Or tried to shoot Vee. Oh, hi, Vee! Heard you’re my auntie. Can I not call you that, though? Pretty sure I’m older than you.”

My lips tremble as I step toward him and hug him. “I’m so sorry, Pres. I’m sorry you went through that because of me.”

“Nah, don’t go emo on me! Juuude, how do I deal with this?”

When I ease away, Preston is grinning as he ruffles my hair. “Actually, Auntie Vee is growing on me after all.”

After the team and the managers welcome Preston back, we go for drinks at my and Jude’s place.

Just the five of us.

The whole drive back, Preston is joking and mixing all sorts of music, but the rest of us are still in shock.

“Stop looking at me as if I’m a ghost.” Preston punches Kane in the stomach before he flops down beside me on the sofa. “See? You can feel that, so I’m as real as it gets.”

“I just don’t understand why you faked your own death,” Kane says.

“I told you, it was Dad.” Preston takes a sip of his beer. “He wanted to smoke out dear Granny and have you kill her because it seems he drew a line at killing his own blood. But, hey, I came back as soon as I was conscious. I’m still in pain, so all of you better nurse me back to health. ”

“We thought you were dead.” Jude’s standing, having refused to sit down since we got here. “Violet thought she was the reason you were dead.”

“Sorry.” Preston grimaces. “Blame your brother, or half-brother or whatever. He’s kind of a stone, though, so good luck getting to him. Also, if it makes you feel better, I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t already tested the experimental coma drug for Julian, Vee. He managed to develop and enhance it, which made my recovery so much faster. BUT, Daddy dearest was mad, like, I’m talking livid, almost punching Julian and stuff. Because it appears the only reason Julian insisted you become a test subject is because of your DNA, meaning he knew you were an Armstrong and kept it to himself, then even tried to make you leave the area so Dad and Uncle Atlas wouldn’t come at him for trying to decode our DNA. Which is, apparently, on Julian’s power-mongering checklist—to know all about the founding families’ DNA. For what reason? No clue, but Dad didn’t like it one bit. Callahans and Armstrongs are fighting, FYI.”

“Julian knew you were alive?” Jude barks.

“Yup, and so did Dad and Uncle Atlas.”

“This feels so surreal,” Dahlia says, leaning her head on Kane’s shoulder.

“I know, right? Unlocked superpower: coming back from the dead.” Preston rubs his hands together. “Anyway, tell me all about how you made Granny scream.”

Kane frowns. “We didn’t kill your grandma, Pres.”

“Of course you did. Dad used you to get rid of her, remember? I almost shed a few tears knowing you avenged my wrongful early exit.”

“It was Marcus,” Jude says.

Preston’s humor disappears. “ What ? ”

“Marcus beat us to it,” Kane says. “He also beat us to killing the hit man who shot you. Osborn crucified him in a gory scene. Your grandma was nearly sliced the fuck up. Both had unrecognizable faces and took a long time to clean up. We only witnessed him killing your grandma, and he looked fucking unhinged while doing it.”

Preston bursts out laughing. It doesn’t sound happy or mocking; if anything, there’s a manic edge to it.

Kane and Jude share a look but say nothing. Preston finishes his beer in one go and tells us all about his ‘adventures’ in the hospital and his ‘Sleeping Beauty days,’ as he calls them.

I’m just glad the results from my coma helped get Preston back. It was all worth it.

Maybe Julian will develop it further, and one day, Mario will also wake up.

While I don’t really like Julian, and I feel he’s a manipulative snake, I respect that he would protect Jude and his friends. I just feel bad for his wife, Annalise. She seems like a genuinely nice person caught in an evil man’s trap.

Not that I know anything about them or have the right to judge. Anyone looking at me and Jude could say the same, but no one sees him the way I do.

Jude walks out to the terraced balcony, and I follow suit, bringing an umbrella along.

I have to raise my hand up to cover him. “Are you okay?”

He looks down at me, takes the umbrella, and tilts it so that it’s covering me, too, raindrops clinging to his jacket, then sliding down the fabric. “Go back inside. It’s cold.”

“Not without you and not before making sure you’re okay.” I plant a palm on his cheek. “I know this is a shock, but at least he’s alive, right? ”

“Right.” He pulls me toward him by my waist. “I’m just not sure for how long before he defies all norms and actually gets himself killed.”

“What do you mean?”

“I learned something from Kane, and I’m worried about Preston’s future within Vencor.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Possibly. The organization doesn’t like rule breakers and Preston seems to be caught in what is considered a taboo within Vencor. But this time, I’ll do everything in my might to make sure no one touches him.”

“Me, too.” I stroke his cheek. “I’ll be with you every step of the way, Jude. Just like you’re there for me as I slowly find myself.”

“Always, sweetheart.”

And then he’s kissing me.

Under the blue umbrella.

For the rest of our lives.