Chapter 8 – VENOM
Chapter
Eight
VENOM
After tending to my wound and bandaging myself up, I leave my workstation in the greenhouse and run into Evelyn waiting for me.
“What?” I ask her.
She’s looking at me like she’s about to reprimand a child.
“What are you doing, boy?” she signs.
“This isn’t something you should get involved in. I’m handling it.”
Her brows furrow. “I’ve seen how you're handling it.”
“She’s infuriating!”
“And you think you’re any better?”
“Of course. If she stopped acting like some wild thing, maybe things would be different.”
She shakes her head. “You forget that I know you.”
“And?”
“You like the girl.”
I laugh. Really laugh. “Like her? Ev, the beast has attacked me, like what, four times now? She is most definitely set on killing me.”
She just smiles at me and pats me on the shoulder as she walks away.
Shaking my head, I make my way upstairs in mild discomfort due to my thigh, but also every movement of that muscle tickles something else inside me. Something that craves to stride into her room right now and hurt her. Make her bleed more just as I have.
But I don’t. I walk past her room and into mine. Once I’m in bed, I open my camera app and take a look into her room and find her lying in bed on her back, her hair sprawled around her like a burning halo, and staring at the ceiling, at me.
She seems lost in thought.
What could such a wild beast be thinking about?
I stare at her longer than I should. If she knew she was actually looking at me right now, would she still be biting her lip like that?
I need this situation to be over with soon. One way or another before things get out of hand. If tonight proved anything, we’re getting closer to a point where she won’t come back from.
Morning arrives quicker than I hoped. I feel exhausted and my thigh is sorer and tender. It’s a rather annoying reminder of the wild woman living in my home.
I step into the kitchen to find Evelyn and Ivy at the small corner table. Evelyn’s dry erase board rests in front of her, while Ivy’s notebook is filled with scribbles and little sketches. Both of them glance up as I pass, but their eyes don’t linger.
I head straight for the coffee machine, fix myself a tall mug of black coffee with a swirl of honey, and turn back to them as I take the first sip. Their focus has already shifted from me back to each other.
Evelyn raises both hands and signs How are you?
Then she writes the words on her board and holds it up for Ivy.
She repeats the motion, slower this time, and Ivy mimics her movements.
They keep at it, Evelyn correcting with a patient flick of her fingers, Ivy responding with growing confidence as they move on to simple replies.
Ivy hasn't looked at me again, completely focused on Evelyn, seeming eager to learn. I study her for a bit longer. Her copper hair is in a messy bun with wild strands hanging around her face and her dark green tank top fits a bit too tightly against her creamy skin, so much so that I can tell she’s not wearing a bra.
Perhaps that’s because she doesn't have one.
I need to send Evelyn out for more clothes.
And maybe more shoes, although she seems to always prefer to be barefoot instead of wearing the slip-ons I got her.
I continue watching Ivy’s delicate hands copying Evelyn’s movements, smiling and laughing when she gets it right and blowing out an exacerbated breath when it takes her more than a few tries to get it. Before I realize it, I find myself smiling at them. At her.
Strange feeling.
I’m not sure what to call it, but it’s enough to make me uncomfortable. So I clear my throat and quickly leave the room without another glance at Evelyn and the beastly thing.