Page 157 of Toxic Kiss

Fucker, this is all his fault. God, I hate lawyers.

The dark and twisted voice in my head laughs, mocking me.

This is all your doing.

A second later, the other car door opens.

Haven is shoved in beside me, eyes blazing.

The sudden silence is heavy as they close us in together. I look at her, but she doesn’t look at me.

“Are you okay?

Nothing. Haven doesn’t acknowledge me. She just stares out the window like I’m not sitting right beside her. My jaw cracks. I’m clenching my teeth so hard.

The car starts moving. And for the first time tonight…I feel something besides possessive rage. Not regret. Nothing that clean and simple, but close enough to feel like it. The sensation is worse than my heart being torn from my chest.

Because she won’t even look at me.

And that?

That’s worse than anything Charles throws at me, worse than anything my aching body can put me through.

Leaning my head back, I close my eyes.

Fuck.

chapter

thirty-nine

“I loved you enough to stay. I love myself enough to leave.” - Haven

HAVEN

Well, I can honestly say that I never saw this coming. Sitting in a jail cell was not on my bingo card. But, in hindsight, this feels inevitable. I’ve just always assumed it will be for murder because I’ve stabbed Cyrus with a sharpened toothbrush or beat him to death with his guitar.

My father will have a field day with this. Oh, God…Anita. Like she needs any more ammunition to fire at me. I can already hear her bitchy voice now.

I told you that she wasn’t ready for this position, Auguste. I never wanted her to take this job. You know as well as I do that Haven and Cyrus are oil and water. What were you thinking? Blah, blah, blah.

The heavy metal door at the end of the hall clangs, and I stop pacing long enough to see a guard escort Cyrus in and put him in the cell beside me. Oh, how I wish for a solid wall instead of bars, but I’m not so lucky.

“Hey, man, I’m really sorry about this,” the officer says as he uncuffs Cy.

The click of the metal is loud in the hollow concrete room.

“It’s cool. You’re just doing your job, Officer Grimes,” Cy says, and I shake my head.

Even when he is calm and logical, I still want to throat-punch him.

“Do you mind if I come by in a bit with a few things to sign? I’m sorry to ask, but my wife is a huge fan, and this will make an awesome birthday gift. I’ll be her hero.”

Of course, the guy’s wife is a fan of the band. Why not?

Cy glances at me and then smiles at the officer.

“Sure.”