Sins Of Her Venom
Chapter 75: Sharper Than A Blade

Chapter 75: Sharper Than A Blade

-Kathrine Andrews: (Song of the Chapter: You Belong To Me by The Weeknd)

As soon as lunch ended, I grabbed my bag and made my way down the hall, still feeling the heat of Glyndon’s glare lingering on my skin.

Savannah had been fun—easy to talk to, easy to flirt with—but the moment I walked away from the cafeteria, my mind started slipping back to her.

I hated that.

I hated how she could do that to me without even trying.

My boots echoed down the hallway as I passed the boys’ locker room. The place was quiet and empty—most of the guys were still outside, probably messing around on the field.

Then, out of nowhere—

A hand clamped around my wrist.

Before I could react, I was yanked inside, the heavy door shutting behind me.

The next thing I knew, I was backed against the cold metal lockers, the scent of fresh soap and faded cologne surrounding me.

For a split second, my mind jumped to Alex. Was he finally snapping? Trying to get revenge for all the hell I’ve been putting him through?

But then—

I lifted my gaze, and it wasn’t Alex standing in front of me.

It was Glyndon.

And she looked pissed.

The second I registered who had grabbed me, my stomach clenched.

Glyndon.

Her face was shadowed, her brown eyes dark and wild with something terrifying, something consuming. The dim locker room light cast sharp angles over her face, sharpening the already cutting edge of her expression.

I opened my mouth, about to snap at her, but she moved before I could.

She stepped forward, her body crowding mine, forcing me back against the cold metal lockers. I hit them with a dull thud, my breath hitching as she leaned in, hands planted on either side of me, effectively caging me in.

"What the fuck do you think you’re doing?" she growled, her voice a low, dangerous rasp.

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

Her lip curled, but she didn’t back off. If anything, she leaned in closer, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off her. Close enough that I could see the way her fingers twitched—like she was restraining herself from doing something drastic.

"You think I didn’t see you?" she whispered, her voice calm in a way that was even scarier than if she had been shouting. "Sitting there, giggling like some brainless idiot while that girl drooled all over you?"

I scoffed, despite the way my pulse spiked. "You’ve lost your damn mind."

Her head tilted a slow, unnatural movement. "Have I?"

Her eyes locked onto mine, unblinking. There was something in them, something dark, something possessive and unhinged.

I tried to move past her, but she pressed closer, cutting me off completely.

"This is none of your business," I snapped, forcing steel into my voice. "Who I talk to, who I spend time with—it has nothing to do with you."

That was the wrong thing to say.

Glyndon stilled. The air around us turned razor-sharp.

Then, in one swift motion, she reached into her pocket and pulled something out.

A fork.

I barely had time to process it before she pressed it against my throat.

My breath caught. My body locked up, muscles coiling with tension. The cold metal pricked against my skin, not quite enough to hurt—but enough to remind me of how easily she could change that.

My eyes snapped to hers.

And what I saw made my blood run cold.

She was smiling.

A slow, eerie smile that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Try saying that again," she whispered, her voice as soft as silk, but laced with something far more dangerous.

I swallowed, feeling the fork press a little harder against my throat.

She leaned in, her lips barely an inch from mine. "Go ahead," she murmured. "Tell me it’s none of my business."

My fingers curled into fists. I forced myself to stay still, to not let her see how my body was trembling. "It’s not."

Her grip tightened around the fork. The prongs dug just a little deeper.

"You don’t get it, do you?" she murmured. "You think you can sit there and flirt with some random girl like I’m not watching? Like I’m not right fucking here?"

I inhaled sharply. "Glyndon—"

She tilted her head, her expression almost amused, like this whole situation was some sick, twisted game.

Then, without warning—she dragged the fork across my skin.

A sharp sting bloomed at the base of my throat, followed by the slow warmth of something wet trailing down.

Blood.

I sucked in a breath, frozen in shock. My heartbeat roared in my ears.

Glyndon’s expression didn’t change. If anything, her smile widened—before she leaned in and dragged her tongue over the small scratch.

My breath hitched violently. My entire body locked up as the sensation of her warm, wet tongue sent a shock straight through my spine.

She licked the blood. She fucking licked my blood.

I jerked back, but there was nowhere to go, the lockers cold and solid behind me.

Her lips brushed against my ear as she whispered, "You taste so fucking sweet."

My stomach clenched a violent mix of fear and something else I didn’t want to name.

She pulled back just enough to look me in the eye, her fingers brushing against my jaw, her touch deceptively gentle.

"Go on your little date with her," she murmured. "Let her touch you. Let her kiss you."

A shudder ran through me.

She pulled back just enough to look me in the eye.

"But you’ll still be thinking about me."

Glyndon’s smirk stayed in place as she slowly stepped back, her piercing brown eyes never leaving mine. Then, with an almost lazy movement, she slid the fork back into her pocket.

Like she hadn’t just pressed it against my throat.

Like she hadn’t just fucking licked my blood.

The air around us was still heavy, thick with the tension that had wrapped around me like an iron grip. My heart hammered in my chest, but my body wouldn’t move.

She tilted her head, eyes sweeping over me one last time as if she were memorizing my stunned expression. Then, without another word, she turned and walked away.

Her footsteps were slow, unhurried. Confident.

As if she had already won.

The door swung shut behind her.

And I stayed there, frozen.

Staring at nothing.

What the hell just happened?

I swallowed, but my throat was dry. My mind tried to make sense of it, tried to rationalize it, but it was impossible. That wasn’t Glyndon. Not the one I knew. That was something else—something dark, something dangerous.

My hand twitched at my side.

Is it normal to be that jealous?

Is she jealous?

A shiver crawled up my spine, but it wasn’t just fear. There was something else, something deeper, something that made my stomach twist in ways I didn’t want to acknowledge.

Because at some point—somewhere deep inside me—part of me liked it.

My mind liked it.

My heart liked it.

My body liked it.

She was jealous. Over me.

But anger flared inside me just as fast. Who the hell did she think she was? She didn’t own me. She had no claim over me, no right to act like I was hers.

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms.

She doesn’t get to do that.

She doesn’t get to act like she has control over me.

The sound of the door swinging open snapped me out of it.

I blinked, my body still stiff, as a group of guys strode inside, talking and laughing, fresh from hockey practice.

The shift in the atmosphere was jarring, the normalcy of it clashing with the storm still raging inside me.

The laughter cut off when they saw me.

I barely processed their expressions—confusion, surprise—before Alex stepped forward, frowning. His gaze flicked over me, his confusion deepening.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, his voice low, cautious.

I snapped my head toward him, still dazed, still caught between the lingering feeling of Glyndon’s presence and my own boiling emotions.

My glare sharpened.

"It’s none of your business, little faggy boy," I said coldly. "Go suck a dick or something."

Alex stiffened.

For a second, his mask cracked, his lips parting in shock, his eyes wide. Then he quickly schooled his features, his jaw tightening.

"Don’t say shit like that," he muttered, voice quieter now. "You said you wouldn’t—"

I scoffed. "I didn’t say anything."

His fingers twitched at his side, his expression guarded.

Then his gaze dropped slightly—and his whole body tensed.

"There’s blood on your neck."

I froze.

My breath hitched.

His words barely registered, drowned out by the memory of Glyndon pressing the fork into my skin, the sharp sting as it cut just enough to draw blood—

And her tongue.

My stomach clenched violently, a wave of something hot and cold crashing into me.

Alex took a small step closer, eyes narrowing. "Did someone—?"

"Don’t start acting worried about me, it’s not going to help you woo my brother." I shoved past him.

He stumbled back a little, caught off guard, but I didn’t care. I didn’t even acknowledge him as I pushed through the group of guys, ignoring their confused murmurs.

The only thing I could think about was the last look on Glyndon’s face before she left.

The dark amusement in her eyes.

The promise in her smirk.

And her voice still echoed in my head like a curse.

You’ll still be thinking about me.

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