Chapter 12 Venom #2
I stood frozen for what felt like hours. Seconds, probably. My hands were shaking. My chest was tight. She knew about my grandmother. About the stories, about the jade pendant, about everything that made me me. And she'd implied—hadn't said, but implied—
I grabbed my bag and ran.
Axel knew something was wrong the second he saw me. "What happened?" He caught my arms, searched my face. "Kai. Talk to me."
"Not here." I was barely holding together. "Get me out of here."
He didn't ask again. Just wrapped an arm around me, guided me through the hospital, out to the parking garage, onto his bike. The ride back was a blur—I clung to him, face pressed against his leather cut, trying to breathe.
The clubhouse. Safety. His room. Door locked. Then I fell apart.
I told him everything. Chen's appearance, her offer, her threats. The implication about my grandmother. The casual mention of the kill order like it was a line item on a budget report. By the end, I was shaking so hard my teeth chattered.
Axel listened in silence. His expression didn't change, but I could feel the rage building in him—a cold, lethal fury that made the air feel electric.
"She threatened you," he said when I finished. Not a question.
"She threatened everyone. You, Tyler, the club—"
"She. Threatened. You." Each word was a controlled explosion. "She walked into that hospital and put her hands in your head and made you afraid."
"Axel—"
"No." He cupped my face, forced me to meet his eyes. "Listen to me. She doesn't get to win. She doesn't get to make you small. You are the bravest person I've ever known, and some corrupt federal bitch with a god complex doesn't get to take that from you."
"She knew about my grandmother. She implied—" My voice broke. "What if she—"
"She didn't. She was playing you, Kai. That's what people like her do—they find your wounds and press on them until you bleed." His thumbs wiped the tears I hadn't realized were falling. "Your grandmother died of heart failure. You were there. You held her hand. Don't let Chen poison that memory."
I broke down completely. Sobbed against his chest like I hadn't since I was a child, since the day obaachan passed and left me alone in the world.
He held me through it, solid and warm and there, murmuring words I couldn't hear but somehow understood.
When the tears finally stopped, something else had taken their place.
Rage.
"I want to kill her," I said. My voice was raw but steady. "I want to watch her lose everything she's built."
"We will." Axel's eyes were dark with promise. "Together."
"I need—" I fisted my hands in his shirt, pulled him closer. "I need you. Right now. I need to feel something other than this."
He understood immediately.
There was nothing gentle about it. He kissed me like a conquering army—hard, demanding, possessive. His hands tore at my clothes, and I tore at his, desperate to feel skin against skin. When he shoved me against the wall, I went willingly, wrapping my legs around his waist, grinding against him.
"I've got you," he growled against my throat. "She doesn't touch you. No one touches you."
"Prove it."
He carried me to the bed, dropped me on the mattress, covered my body with his. His weight was grounding, his heat overwhelming. When he bit down on my shoulder—hard enough to bruise—I arched into it, welcoming the pain.
"Tell me what you need," he demanded.
"You. Hard. Make me forget everything except you."
He flipped me onto my front side, and I heard the click of the lube cap. His fingers found me, worked me open with ruthless efficiency—not rough enough to hurt, but far from gentle. I pushed back against his hand, greedy for more.
"Axel—"
"I know." He withdrew his fingers, and then he was there—the thick head of his cock pressing against my entrance. "Ready?"
"Yes—"
He thrust in hard. I cried out, fisting the sheets, overwhelmed by the stretch and the fullness and the sheer presence of him. He didn't give me time to adjust—just started moving, deep, long powerful strokes that punched the air from my lungs.
"You're mine," he snarled, one hand gripping the back of my neck hard enough to bruise. "Say it."
"Yours—"
"She doesn't get to have you. No one does." He yanked my head back by the hair, exposed my throat, bit down on the tender skin. "Only me."
"Only you—fuck, Axel, please—"
He pounded me like he was trying to drive out every fear, every doubt, every cold word Chen had whispered. I took everything he gave me—the force, the possession, the desperate need underneath the violence. This wasn't just sex. It was exorcism.
His hand snaked around to grip my cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. The dual sensation was overwhelming—pleasure and pressure building to a breaking point.
"Come for me," he ordered. "Now."
I shattered. The orgasm ripped through me, white-hot and devastating, my release spilling over his hand. He followed seconds later, his hands holding a strong grip on my cheeks, burying himself to the hilt and groaning my name as he pulsed inside me.
We collapsed together, breathing ragged, sweat-slicked and trembling.
"I love you," he said into my hair. "Nothing she says changes that."
"I know." I turned in his arms, pressed my face to his chest. "I love you too."
We lay tangled together, letting our heartbeats slow. The rage had burned out, leaving something cleaner in its place. Resolve. Determination. The knowledge that whatever came next, we'd face it together.
"We should shower," I murmured eventually.
"Should." He made no move to get up. "Will in a minute."
"You said that twenty minutes ago."
"Shh." He pulled me closer, and I let myself sink into his warmth.
Outside, the sun was setting. Inside, covered in safety and love, I let myself drift.
The gunshots tore me out of my sleep.
For a moment, I was disoriented—dark room, warm body beside me, the lingering haze of deep sleep. Then the sounds resolved into clarity.
Gunfire. Explosions. Screaming. The unmistakable chaos of war. Axel was already moving, out of bed, pulling on jeans, grabbing his gun from the nightstand.
"Stay here," he ordered.
"Like hell—"
The window shattered. Glass exploded inward, and I threw myself to the floor on instinct. More gunfire—closer now, inside the clubhouse. Shouts, screams, the thunder of boots on stairs. Axel hauled me up, shoved me toward the bathroom. "Get in the tub. Don't move until I come for you."
"I'm not hiding while people die—"
"You're not fucking dying either." He kissed me—hard, desperate, tasting like goodbye. "Please, Kai. I can't fight if I'm worried about you." More explosions rocked the building. Someone was screaming Jake's name.
"I love you," I said.
"I love you too." His grey eyes burned into mine. "You better stay alive."
Then he was gone, plunging into the chaos, and I was alone with the sound of war tearing my new family apart.