Page 128 of Lovely Venom

I shoot him a glare—a knee-jerk response that only irritates me further. Elias doesn’t deserve my ire.

“No,” Ares answers. “I want to see how this plays out.”

He gets his wish when Cristian closes the distance between us, his chest brushing against my back as he stands behind me.

“Having fun with your little game, principessa?” he asks. “Should we see how much you like his face after it’s been put through a wood chipper?”

I don’t dignify that with a response, which only makes him angrier.

“Say your goodbyes, and get your ass in my car,” he threatens. “Before this gets bloody.”

I want nothing more than to tell him off, but I know it isn’t an empty threat. Cristian always carries, and the rigid set of his body isn’t ambiguous. He’s been looking for an excuse to murder Ares for years, and if I don’t disengage, he might actually do it.

I heave out an apologetic sigh as I glance at Kenzie. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

“Text me later?” she says, eyeing Cristian like she isn’t sure what to make of him.

I nod and pivot on my heel, heading for the door with Cristian behind me. As soon as we’re in the garage, I let out my anger.

“You’re an asshole.”

“I might be an asshole, but at least I have the sense not to keep company with snakes.”

“Who?” I glower at him. “The Greeks?”

“Yes, the fucking Greeks,” he bites out. “It should come as no surprise to you how I feel about them. We don’t associate with them, Chantel.”

His reaction splinters through my chest and settles between my ribs. He doesn’t realize that’s exactly why I never wanted to get involved with him in the first place. Now that I have, that rejection feels bone deep.

It’s a reminder that there will always be a part of me I can’t safely share with him or my friends. The blood that runs through my veins makes me an enemy, regardless of what my name might be now.

My instinct is to shut down, and I swallow whatever it was I was about to say. Cristian couldn’t know how much his words hurt, but it wouldn’t matter if he did.

I’m not sure I could handle what he’d say if he actually knew.

He opens the car door for me, and I move on autopilot, sinking into the seat without a fight. During the few seconds it takes him to round the vehicle, I slam my walls back into place.

The drive home is silent, and when we enter the house, I find myself stuck in an OCD loop. I stand at the door and stare at the locks, counting them over and over because I can’t actually concentrate. And when I can’t concentrate, I can’t be sure they’re actually locked.

“Chantel.” Cristian’s voice brushes my hair as he stands behind me. “You’re safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Except for him, my mind supplies.

“Did you have sex with her?” The words eject from my mouth before I can stop them.

He turns me to face him, and I regret asking, because I’m not sure I can handle it if he says yes.

“Who?” He searches my eyes.

I hate that his question feels so genuine, because regardless of what he says, I already know I can’t trust it.

“Tiffany,” I bite out her name with a bitterness I don’t recognize.

His brows draw together like he doesn’t understand, and it only frustrates me more.

“This weekend, at Black Velvet. You were there.”

That finally registers something in him, and I brace for the worst when he reaches down and threads his fingers through mine.