Chapter 17
Anita
I won’t deny the uncertainty unfurling inside my chest. I do wish I went with him to see Jax.
One reason, I don’t trust Jax.
He could have an entire plan to annihilate us or secretly be working with Victor still to pin us in another corner. I have no doubt that Ronan cannot hold his own, but it doesn't make me feel any better knowing no one has his back. If anything were to happen to him, I would burn it all to the ground, then watch Jax and Victor scream in the flames as they slowly die the most excruciating death.
After Ronan skirted off down the cobblestone road, I turned and made my way into the school. Once inside, I’m bombarded with—
What the hell? Students?
My eyes widen as they hover around me with gleeful smiles and curiosity plastered. “She’s back,” one whispers.
“Ms. Venom, we heard you went out with the headmaster on a mission. Is it true you caught a bomb and then threw it back at the building before it blew up?” a tall boy with thick, wavy brown hair and beach green eyes asks with excitement. My eyes bounce from him and to the other students invading my space.
A girl with brown skin wearing a high bun scoffs, nudging him to the side. “No, she didn’t catch it idiot; she shot it. Right, Ms. Venom?” She nods with a smile.
My mind is whirling. I'm not even sure what to think. A bomb in the air?
A few other students blocked the path to the steps, surrounding me.
“Is it also true that you dug yourself underground and sat there for two weeks?” Another kid with deep brown skin and hazel eyes beams at me, gripping his backpack strap.
No, but I was thrown in a black pit and left there for days. They don’t need to know that.
I shake my head at the overwhelming number of people and break through the shoulder barrier. “None of its true,” I manage to get out, heading the opposite direction from the steps.
Some murmurs break out, others with disbelief and disappointment at the truth. Although it’s hilarious, them making up these stories about me. I hide the smirk and continue walking down the hall. The sound of footsteps emerges behind.
“Miss Anita,” a soft, but breathless voice calls. And I instantly know the person behind the voice.
She hurries beside me, her large textbook in her hand. “I haven’t seen you around much. I wondered if you left.” She releases another shuddering breath to gather herself. Matching my steps, she continues. “I’m so happy you didn’t leave,” she admits, I don’t look at her, but I can tell she’s wearing a wide smile.
I don’t deny the pull at my heartstrings from her saying that.
“Since you’re here, I want to ask a favor,” she quips, gripping her hold on the textbook, unsure if she would continue.
“What?” This time I face her.
She tugs a piece of strand behind her ear. “We have—well, had a winter dance coming up next week. Headmaster canceled it.” Her voice lowers, and I immediately stop. My hands going to my hips, I raise a brow.
“What are you telling me?”
Her cheeks warm, giving it a pink, rosy tone. “I-is it possible you can talk to him? We’ve all been excited about the dance. We had dresses picked out, our dates...” she trails off as her eyes sweep down to the floor.
I cross my arms, tiny bits of sympathy filling me. “This is not my school, Isabella. I can't make him do anything he doesn’t want to.”
“I know, I know.” Her head bobs up and down. “We would ask Senora Mal, but she's kind of scary,” she whispers, leaning over slightly.
And I’m not?
I attempt to straighten my face into a serious resting bitch face, as Mal would say, but it only makes her cheeks turn a strawberry tint.
Crap, I am shitty at this. I release a light breath. “Maybe next year, right? Doesn’t this always happen every year?”
She shakes her head with a somber smile. “No. The other students say this is the first time we’ve ever had a dance.”
My heart squeezes. Her words hit me right in the gut. I understand her reasoning behind it; every teenager wants to experience dances, proms, and dates. Yes, their lives are very different from the outside world, and it’ll never be the same, but does that mean they still can’t enjoy some of the same life experiences as them? Perhaps you can have the best of both worlds, and what’s happening with the kidnappings shouldn’t affect the rest of the school. A little normality might be exactly what everyone needs.
“I can talk to him,” I say slowly, pursing my lips.
She gasps, her body rising as she smiles with a bright gleam, all her teeth on full display.
I raise my hand. “But it doesn’t mean he would change his mind. So don’t get too excited.”
She continues to burst like a fruit gusher. “Yes ma’am.” Her words rush out quickly with pure joy. Then, she does the unthinkable—she drops her textbook and flies forward, wrapping her arms around my neck and squeezes me in a tight embrace. My eyes widen as my body goes rigid for a split second.
“Thank you so much, Miss Anita. You’re wonderful.”
My eyes lower as my body begins to relax instead of getting the urge to push her off me. I slowly bring up a hand, patting the middle of her back awkwardly, the small smile playing on my lips.
After a few seconds, I wiggled out of the grip. “Okay, okay, that’s enough.”
“Sorry.” She snickers, backing away and picking up her book. The tiny smirk doesn’t leave my mouth as I fluff my hair.
“I guess we are done here. Enjoy.” I turn with the destination on my mind.
“Oh, Miss Anita.” She steps toward me again. “Me and my friends were wondering if you can look into teaching the women's self-defense combat class? Senor Vander will be leaving. His wife is having her baby soon,” she says. “The rampages said all you need to do is ask Headmaster.” She smiles gingerly.
My stomach rolls at her request. Teach a class? I wasn’t even sure if I was going to be officially staying.
I was sure of it before London, but after that. So much has changed.
I need you here.
Stay with me, please.
The faint memory of Ronan’s soft words stroking my dreams as I slept on his shoulder bombards my thoughts.
Do I even want to go?
I give a half smile. “I can’t give you a solid answer right now, but I will give it thought.” That’s all I can offer at the moment.
Her shoulders sank with a weary nod. “Okay.” She brings her book to her chest, the straight strands of her long hair bunched up with it. “I have to go, curfew and all. But I hope you say yes.” Then she scurries off, jogging down the hall.
I stand there, momentarily frozen in place, before turning around and heading to where I plan to sit and contemplate my decisions of being here.
As I walk down the hall my back pocket vibrates. A twist hits my stomach, and I hope it's Ronan letting me know he's on his way back. I grab my phone with a quickness.
No Name: The anchors have docked, snakes on board.
Panic takes over. “Shit.” I forgot to text Oliver back after I landed back in Seattle. I click my phone off, spinning around and rushing to the exit.
Are they here? They’re not here . They won’t be able to find the tracker in my arm that went out. We each have one for emergency purposes. The only reason I found this place is because Ronan slipped in that disk.
The rush of dread mixes with my thoughts as I navigate through the hall. By the time I reach the front, I find Wicked Mal sitting on the steps, cleaning her gun with a cloth. Just the girl I need. She looks my way, ceasing her movement on the barrel.
“Shouldn’t you be on bed rest?” I ask.
She scoffs. “And miss out on this? I was stabbed, my bones aren't broken or bruised.” She lifts her hands. “I can walk and move. Dr. Rio already sewed me up, gave me extra patches, and checked if any of my ligaments were fucked up. I have medicine for the pain, and he asked me to take it easy on movements. I’m good.”
I look her over once more. She seems fine, her skin is somewhat back to normal. It's like she’s back to the Mal I met a month ago.
So now I get to the point. “Can I borrow your truck, please?” I rush out, my hand extending out, expecting her to hand me her keys.
She lowers her gun to her sides, eyeing me curiously. “Why?”
I place my hand on my hip with irritation seeping into my neck, but I need to play it cool. “I parked my car all the way on the other side of the school, and I don't have time to get to it. Your truck is right there.” I point to the door, not taking my eyes from her.
She starts wiping the gun again, her stare still at me. “You know, we have to leave once Ronan arrives.” She checks the large black clock hanging above the front door. “Which I’m sure is in another hour or two.”
I chew on the inside of my mouth. I’ll be back before then, I’m sure.
“I won't be long.” I wiggle my fingertips for her to give me the keys.
She stops mid-wipe again. Her eyes are full of questions that I’m not going to answer. And she knows it. She breaks contact, letting out a little sigh. “You know he’s not going to be happy when he sees you’re not here,” she says as she digs into her under black jean jacket.
I lick my lips, a little flurry of worry entering my body. “I’ll handle that.”
What I really want to say is: I’ll handle the consequences. I also know this mission is important, and I would never do anything to hinder us from executing the plan. That’s why I need to deal with them before they deal with me.
She pushes the keys into the back of my hand with a dry smirk. “Don’t fuck up my truck, Cinderella.”
I ball the keys into my fist tight as I walk back. “Thank you. You’re...” the best.
But I squint my eyes with a stiff smile. “Still a bitch.” I spun around with a smile on my face, knowing she would rather that than something sentimental.
She huffs with a laugh as her cloth goes flying at me. I dodge it by flying through the door, shutting it behind me.
***
I pull up at the back of the library. The truck is black like Ronan's, blending in perfectly with the black mood. The night sky has come, busting with dark blue hues and white clouds masked as gray and black painted with stars creeping in. I haven’t been here in what feels like forever.
It took about thirty minutes to get here, so I should be back at GenCre in no time. Before Ronan notices.
I roam my eyes around the area; it's empty, only with Mal’s truck. Maybe they didn’t come here . I’m not surprised that they found me—of course Oliver told them. For that reason, I'm not sure if I should prepare myself for the blows or stop overthinking and check the damn library.
I suck in a scattered breath through my teeth, opening up the door. Time to put on my big girl panties—preferably laced—and see for myself. I'm instantly punched by the brick of breezes swooping into my neck and down my back. I bunch my shoulders; I’m happy I wore my scarf and gloves this time. Now I'm wishing I had Ronan’s thick ass coat.
I shut the door and head up to the back entrance of the brick building, passing a half full city dumpster and pothole before arriving at the door. My eyes skate around naturally, my ears perked for noises, looking for any shadows lurking behind the bushes.
Nothing.
I stand there, my hands digging into my coat pocket to fetch the keys. Even though I haven’t been back here in a while, I was provided the opportunity to keep a spare key in case I decided to come back to work here.
As I level the key to the keyhole, I pause briefly, my instinct leading me to check the knob first. It turns easily, answering my assumption. I should feel relief, but I don’t. It only signifies that they are here.
Expecting me.
With clammy hands sweating beneath my leather gloves, I open it further. I reach for my dagger; I’m not afraid of them, and they won’t hurt me. This just makes it more fun and exciting. I need some excitement before I’m shoved back into a world that makes me sick to my stomach.
I step my boot into the doorway; thankfully, there are no chimes on top, making my presence unnoticeable.
Wait. There’s no chime. My pulse picks up, and my feet dig into the library carpet. Doesn’t matter, I'm sure they see me coming from a mile away. I reach to the side where there’s a light switch exactly as soon as I stroll in. I glance around the room, flicking on the switch.
Nothing. Again.
Crap. Without looking back, I shut the door with a soft click, then I step to the side. The inside is pitch black. The only light that shines through is the moonlight’s glow, leaving eerie silhouettes of the shelves creeping on the wall.
I dive between two long, narrow shelves, the hair on the back of my neck standing. Confirming it again.
I stroll slowly through, my eyes catching anything as I skim through the opening of the unleveled book heights.
It’s so dark and eerie, almost like a horror film. A movement slides behind me, quick and fast. I whip my head around, only to see the figure sauntering by in the shadows. My eyes widen as I hurry my steps to the front.
I’ve been through this many times because I’m the one that coerced this. It doesn’t make it any less creepy. Then another tall shadow appears opposite to me as I make it to the middle of the clearing. Then it disappears.
“Venom,” the sultry, eerie voice sings out. The freaky harmony bounces off the black walls and vibrates in my ears. My heart rate picks up pace of thrill, fear, and excitement racing through my veins. All bundled into one clusterfuck.
I tighten my hold on my dagger, ducking to the right to get between another row of shelves. Damn this library.
I stay low, duck walking to the front. If I make it there, maybe those lights will work.
A shrilling chuckle fills the room. “ Where yah going?”
“Did you think we wouldn’t find you?”
“You can’t escape, Venom.”
Three different voices spill around me, causing my anxiety to go through the roof. Once I make it to the front, the moonlight shines right on the light switch near the door. As if the universe is finally on my side, my hands stretch out, reaching for the switch until a sound of running footsteps tumbles to the side of me; then, a hard kick lands right on my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. I fly back, hitting the floor with a hard thud. My dagger falls from my grip, scattering from my reach.
I groan, my hand falling to my rib that’s now pounding, nausea swirling in my stomach. I heave for air, my eyes forcing me to straighten to get a view of the three shadows swaggering my way and now hovering over me.
The Serpent's Vixen.