Beautiful Venom: A Dark Hockey Romance (Vipers Book 1)

I should’ve kissed him one final time.

Hell, I should’ve fucked him.

I should’ve taken something of him with me. Maybe if I had, it wouldn’t hurt this bad.

Maybe it wouldn’t feel as if I’d ripped my heart out and left it in the palm of Kane’s hand.

But I couldn’t possibly think of anything during this entire trip. I wanted more time with him, even if it was a couple of hours.

Minutes.

Seconds.

That’s why I came up with this stupid idea of visiting my old hometown.

I only wished to delay the inevitable, but I ended up with the best down-memory-lane trip of my life. Having Kane beside me, his hand wrapped possessively around my waist, has made it more enjoyable and less of a tearjerker.

Until now, that is.

I sit in an old, empty cathedral, hidden in the corner, staring numbly at the large crucifix on the altar and hoping my heart doesn’t break to pieces and leave me hollow.

Wait. It’s too late for that.

My fingers shake and my vision blurs.

“Hey.” I talk to the crucifix, tears flowing down my face. “Can you make it stop? No? Why not? You took my parents away and Vi, too. Now, Kane? Is my life a joke to you? Am I not allowed any form of happiness? No matter what I would’ve done differently, it would’ve ended this way, wouldn’t it? Why? Just tell me why!”

“Because you yearned for something you shouldn’t have looked at in the first place.” Authoritative footsteps echo in the air as Grant walks to the altar and then stands in front of it, his back to the relics.

He looks like a devil fresh out of hell. The tailored suit and groomed appearance don’t hide the pure evil that lurks in that man’s soul.

“You got greedy, Dahlia, and people like you aren’t allowed to be greedy. If you looked up long enough, that neck would be broken.”

I wipe my tears with the back of my hand. “Were you following us?”

“Your day is almost up and you didn’t do what I asked.”

“I’m not going to hurt Kane with my words. He’s already experienced enough pain from you. If you…tell him about my motives, he’ll stop looking for me and even despise me. So you get what you want either way.” I lift my chin despite the breaking sound that reverberates in my chest. “Let me and my sister go, and we’ll move to a different state and stay as far away as possible.”

He tsks, the sound loud in the silence. “That wasn’t the deal. I specifically asked you to be the one who hurts him. If it’s me, that will only make him hate me and end up idolizing you more. He can be stubborn with his feelings. It took me a long time to stop him from seeking his mother like a fucking weakling. But if I have to break him again so he’ll erase you and go back to being normal, so be it.”

“Normal? That’s not normal, that’s a robot!” The urge to strangle this man beats beneath my skin like a need.

A fucking urge.

Maybe I can kill him and rid Kane of his evil. Maybe Kane and his mother can finally reconcile. I suspected it before, but now, I’m sure. Grant is the reason Kane keeps his distance from Helena.

Yes, Kane probably still holds her accountable for what’s happened to him, but he also recognizes just how abusive his father is. He knows that the more he seeks his mom out or spends time with her, the more Grant will punish him, and probably take out his wrath on his wife.

Surely, if I kill Grant, the world will be a better place?

I reach a hand into my tote bag and feel for the scalpel I usually keep for self-defense.

“What I do with my family is none of your concern.” Grant’s gratingly condescending voice echoes in the air.

My fingers latch onto the scalpel case and I open it as I speak. “Have you ever felt sorry for the shit you’ve put him through since he was a kid? Have you ever wondered that maybe you stole his childhood and molded him into a gloomier version of what he could’ve been?”

“Sorry?” He says the word as if it’s an insult. “Why would I feel sorry when I saved him? I made him into the perfect man who can rightfully inherit my empire. He had to be a wolf or he would’ve been eaten by one.”

I scoff as I clutch the scalpel’s handle in my shaky hand. “So you tortured him, left permanent scars on his body, and broke his soul for his sake?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s for the empire’s sake. He only exists to fulfill a role. We all do. Yours is to stay in your lane.”

“So it’s narcissism. You only brought him into the world so you could use him.” The pain stagnating inside me whirls and transcends the situation I got trapped in.

“He’s a Davenport. That’s his duty.”

“He’s not only a Davenport, he’s just Kane,” I murmur in a low voice he probably can’t hear as I stand up, shoving my hand with the scalpel in my pocket.

I don’t feel my legs, as if I’m floating on air.

My senses sharpen and a red mist covers my eyes.

This man needs to die.

For Vi.

For Kane.

For Helena.

For me.

My legs carry me with ease.

It’s funny how I got entangled in this entire mess to seek revenge, but right now, I only want to stab him to death.

“What were you murmuring to yourself?” he asks when I stop in front of him.

From this angle, the crucified Jesus looks looming, tall, the blood surrounding the holes in his wrists matching my red haze.

“I said Kane is just Kane. He’s not your plaything!” I shout as I pull out the scalpel and aim it at his throat.

Grant steps back at the last second and the scalpel only grazes his jaw. He grabs my hand and twists it so suddenly, a scream of pain bubbles out of me.

My grip loosens on the scalpel and it hits the ground with a clink as Grant kicks me in the stomach.

I fall to the harsh floor, coughing. A metallic taste fills my mouth and blood spills out of my lungs.

But I still crawl to the scalpel.

I’m going to kill him.

I’m going to kill him…

I’m going to kill him…

Just when I’m about to grab it, a shoe steps on my outstretched hand and I groan, then scream when he applies pressure.

Grant stands above me and motions somewhere behind me. He wipes the gushing blood from his jaw as he shakes his head.

“Looks like your time is up, Dahlia.”

My scream comes to an abrupt halt as something sharp pricks the back of my neck.

The scalpel turns blurry and a tear slides down my cheek.

As the darkness swallows me, my thoughts are of deep failure.

I’m sorry, Vi.

I’m sorry, Kane.

My senses come back in pieces—disjointed, hazy, but sharp enough that I jolt awake.

No matter how much I widen and blink my eyes, I only see darkness.

The air is thick, suffocating, reeking of mildew and something else—damp, rotting wood, maybe. A drip echoes in the distance, slow and methodical. It plants a seed of fear at the bottom of my stomach.

I try to move, but pain slices through my shoulders. The ache burns so much that everything snaps into focus.

My wrists are bound above me, the rough chains digging into my skin, pulling tight every time I shift. My bare feet barely touch the ground, just enough to feel the slick, wet floor beneath them, but not enough to steady myself.

Where am I?

Panic floods my chest, drowning out every coherent thought.

The thick darkness presses in on all sides as if the room itself is swallowing me whole. I blink rapidly, trying to adjust my sight, trying to see something, anything.

But there’s nothing.

Just the cold air clinging to my skin and the sound of my ragged breathing filling the space.

My mind scrambles, racing through fractured images. The last thing I remember is being injected with something and losing consciousness. After that…nothing.

My thoughts stutter and freeze like static cutting through my brain. My wrists burn from the strain, my muscles screaming, but it’s the fear that twists my jumbled insides.

What if Grant is using me to get back at Kane?

What if I’m his downfall?

I need to get out of here. Wherever here is.

My fingers curl instinctively, grasping the chain and pulling myself up, but I fall back down. The sound of my breath is louder now, echoing in the small space, filling the silence with my rising panic.

The drip in the distance fades, replaced by a low grinding metallic sound.

My heart kicks into overdrive, panic swelling as I strain to figure out the source of the noise.

Something shifts above me, and before I can brace myself, a torrent of freezing water crashes down, drenching me.

It’s cold.

Ice-cold.noveldrama

Shockingly cold.

I stop breathing as the water slices through my skin like a thousand tiny needles.

It doesn’t stop.

It keeps pouring, soaking through my clothes, clinging to my body like a second skin.

I gasp, choking on the air. The ache in my shoulders sharpens, and the weight of the water jerks me down harder.

My feet slip on the wet floor, barely grazing it as I try to find some footing.

Oh God. Am I going to freeze to death?

The water stops, but I remain shaking in place.

It hits me then.

This is one of Grant’s torture methods. One he probably used on Kane countless times.

A fresh wave of terror rolls over me. The thought that a kid could have gone through this, that Grant subjected his son to this type of punishment churns my stomach.

The cold, the chains, the pain—how could Kane have hidden all this behind that calm, emotionless mask?

Water drips on the floor, each icy drop like a reminder, a piece of the puzzle that Kane never let me see.

How…how did he survive this all these years when I feel like I’ll die?

My body shakes, trembling against the freezing weight of the water. This must be why he had bruises that one time and his complexion was pale.

He still lived through it, though.

The thought hits me like a blow, but it doesn’t bring comfort. It just makes the darkness around me feel more suffocating.

Hopeless.

I don’t know how long I’ve been here, but it’s long enough that my shoulders are going numb while still screaming in pain.

A door creaks open and I close my eyes as strong light flickers above my head and bathes the room in bright white.

Grant walks in with two men dressed in black. One of them is bald with tattoos all over his head, and the other has a scar right beneath his eye.

I’m shaking uncontrollably as Grant walks to a table covered with black boxes off to the side. He opens one and then grabs a whip.

“Now.” He smiles. “I’m sure Kane won’t look your way again once we disfigure your face and body.”

My chin trembles as I say, “He’ll never forgive you.”

“Good thing I don’t care.” He smiles, his lips curling slightly. “Shall we begin?”