Page 41 of Venomous Games

He doesn’t speak on the way to the airport. Hell, he doesn’t even talk during the flight. It’s awkward and silent, and my phone can only entertain me for so long.

“We should discuss who you’ll be fucking,” I blurt. I’ve seen his gaze flick to my bare legs a few times before focusing back on whatever it is he’s doing. He puts his phone down in his lap as he gives me his full attention. “So, clearly, the waitress wasn’t your type. She would have fucked you, you know.”

“I wasn’t going to fuck the waitress.”

“Can you fuck, or is there something wrong with your…” My gaze drops to his crotch.

“My cock works perfectly fine. If you want to test it by wrapping your mouth around it, then by all means, feel free.”

“That would be a hard no,” I tell him, shaking my head. “I am a lady after all.”

“I’m sure ladies don’t go around killing people.”

I wave a hand at him. “They should; it’s fun.”

“Is that all?”

“No. I want to know who you will be fucking.”

“You,” he answers.

“Nope. No can do. I draw the line at living with you and sharing your bed. I’m also keeping my apartment. I have a lot of things there I love.”

“It will all be coming to my house. Even your aquarium.” My eyes widen at his pronouncement. “Yes, your aquarium,” he says, then goes back to completely ignoring me as he looks back down at his phone. I want to snatch it out of his hand and throw it across the plane. Or better yet, smash it against his goddamn head.

“I. Am. Not. Fucking you.”

“You will,” he says, seemingly confident about it and unbothered by my insistence to the contrary.

“No, I will not.” I cross my arms over my chest as the captain announces that we’ll be landing shortly. I buckle myself back up and then glare at my husband.

He pays me no attention whatsoever.

Asshole.

TWENTY-TWO

BOSTON

Tonight is an event for the wives of the Forsaken Society. We don’t have these events all that often, but when we do, they serve a purpose: to keep the members happy and united. Obviously, tonight will be the first time I’ll be attending. I’ll be walking in with Maven on my arm, and the ring currently in my pocket on my finger. Even if she refuses to go, I’ll fucking carry her in.

Victor texts me to say he’ll be in the city for the next hunt, which means he is considering becoming a member.

“Someone is taking out our members,” Soren says. Arlo nods, and Reon just sits there, not even caring. “Two members have been killed within less than two months of each other,” he adds. “It can’t be a coincidence.”

All eyes turn to me. The bar we’re in is closed, but a bartender is here to serve us. Though he’s waiting out back as we talk.

“Any leads?” Reon finally talks.

“I’m onto something,” I reply noncommittally.

I don’t plan to tell them I have the killer. Or the fact that she’s my wife. I had considered telling them during this meeting, then figured I would wait until the event. But I also won’t lie to them and tell them I don’t know who it is, because I want to protect her, which is funny, given what she is capable of.

“Victor is in,” I tell them.

Soren smiles, happy with the news, and Arlo says, “Victor, as in fucking skin-your-body, crazy Victor?”

“Yes.” No point denying how crazy he is.