Sins Of Her Venom
Chapter 82: The Boston Blades

Chapter 82: The Boston Blades

-Glyndon Walton: (Song of the Chapter: Renegade by Aaryan Shah)

The second the words left my lips, I regretted them.

I wanted to take them back, pretend I never said them.

But I couldn’t.

Kathrine’s smirk disappeared.

She just stared at me, her expression unreadable. Something flickered in her eyes—shock, disbelief. Then, just as quickly, her features hardened.

"You?" she repeated like the word was foreign to her.

My heart pounded in my chest.

I swallowed and forced myself to hold her gaze. "Yes," I said, voice rough. "Me."

Kathrine laughed.

Not the light, warm kind that made me feel stupid and dizzy.

This one was sharp. Bitter. Cold.

It sent a chill down my spine.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" she said, shaking her head. "You want me? After everything? After three years of treating me like trash? Of shoving me, pushing me, acting like I was beneath you? Now you want me?"

My fists clenched. "It’s not—"

"Not what?" she cut in, her voice rising. "Not that simple? You spent years acting like people like me are disgusting. You hated me. You wanted me to suffer. And now you want me?"

I swallowed hard. "Kathrine, I—"

"You don’t even know what you want," she snapped, eyes blazing. "You think you can just say one word and suddenly everything’s fine? That I’ll just forget all the shit you put me through?"

"I never said that," I shot back.

"But that’s what you expect, isn’t it?" Her voice cracked, but she masked it quickly, her anger taking over again. "You expect me to drop everything—Savannah, my friends, my life—just because you finally realized you might want me?"

Her words hurt.

More than they should.

More than I wanted to admit.

I took a step toward her, but she immediately backed away, shaking her head.

"No," she said, her voice firm. "I refuse to be your dirty little fucking secret."

My breath caught.

"I want to be loved in public," she continued, her chest rising and falling too fast. "I want to hold my girl’s hand in the hallways. I want to be kissed in the middle of the street, in front of everyone. I want someone to look at me like I matter."

I clenched my jaw.

"I want someone proud to have me," she whispered, her voice laced with something raw. "And that will never be you."

The words sliced through me.

I inhaled sharply. "That’s not true."

She let out a hollow laugh. "Isn’t it?"

I took another step forward. "Kathrine—"

"Stop." She held up a hand. "Just stop."

I hesitated.

She exhaled slowly like she was gathering her thoughts. Then she looked me dead in the eye and said, "You don’t even want to admit you’re into a woman, and that you are a Lesbian."

My stomach dropped.

"You don’t even want to admit that you’re at least bisexual," she continued, her voice quieter now, but sharp enough to cut. "You think this is a sin. You still think we’re going to hell if this happens."

I flinched.

Kathrine shook her head, a bitter smile on her lips. "You want to be straight. You want everyone to think you’re straight. You don’t even want to admit it to yourself."

My pulse pounded in my ears.

"That’s not—"

"Yes, it is," she cut in. "You don’t want me. You want me to fix you. To make you feel less confused. But that’s not my job, Glyndon."

I swallowed hard.

She was right.

And she knew she was right.

I wanted to argue. Wanted to say something—anything—to convince her that she was wrong.

But I couldn’t.

Because she wasn’t wrong.

Kathrine exhaled slowly, then turned her back to me.

Like I was nothing.

Like I didn’t matter.

Something dark twisted in my chest.

I clenched my fists.

"You can ignore me all you want," I said, my voice quiet but firm.

Kathrine stilled.

"You can pretend this never happened," I continued. "You can go back to your life, back to Savannah, back to whatever makes you feel safe."

Slowly, she turned her head, eyes narrowing.

"But I’m not letting you go."

Her jaw clenched.

I took a step forward. "I don’t care how long it takes. I don’t care if you try to push me away. I don’t care if you tell me you don’t want me a hundred times."

Kathrine swallowed, her expression unreadable.

"I will make you mine," I said. "And you will want me back."

A long silence stretched between us.

For the first time, Kathrine looked unsure.

Like she wanted to believe me.

Like she was afraid to.

Then—

She scoffed, shaking her head.

"You’re delusional," she muttered, stepping past me.

I let her go.

For now.

Kathrine moved past me like I wasn’t even there like our entire conversation hadn’t just happened, like I hadn’t just laid myself bare in front of her.

She walked back toward her closet, her posture tense but controlled. I wanted to scream. I wanted to grab her and shake her and demand that she look at me, that she see me, that she feel even a fraction of what I was feeling right now.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I clenched my fists and exhaled slowly.

Kathrine opened the closet door and started rifling through her clothes, pointedly ignoring me, acting like I was nothing more than background noise.

I wasn’t going to let her get away with that.

"You’re going to pretend this conversation didn’t happen?" I asked, crossing my arms. My voice was steady, but there was a sharp edge to it.

She pulled out a hoodie and tossed it onto her bed. "There’s nothing to talk about."

I let out a humorless laugh. "Nothing to talk about? Are you fucking serious?"

Kathrine grabbed a pair of sweatpants and threw them beside the hoodie. "I have homework to do."

My nails dug into my palms. "You are so full of shit."

She stiffened, just for a second, before shaking her head and continuing to ignore me.

That pissed me off.

That hurt.

"You know what?" I snapped, taking a step toward her. "Fine. Stay with the Savannah Bitch. Pretend this doesn’t exist. Pretend I don’t exist. But don’t fucking stand there and act like I’m the only one who felt something."

Kathrine froze.

Her hands tightened into fists at her sides, her entire body going rigid.

I took another step forward. "Look me in the eye and tell me you feel nothing."

Silence.

The kind that made my skin prickle, that made my chest feel too tight.

Then, finally—

Kathrine turned around.

Her face was blank. Cold.

"Nothing," she said.

I flinched.

Kathrine held my gaze, her expression unyielding. "I feel nothing for you, Glyndon."

I searched her eyes, looking for any sign of hesitation, any crack in the mask.

I found nothing.

A lump formed in my throat.

"So that’s it?" I whispered. "You’re going to pretend like I don’t matter?"

She looked away. "You don’t."

The words hit harder than they should have.

I didn’t even realize I had taken a step back until my legs bumped against the edge of her bed.

I hated this.

I hated her.

I hated how much this fucking hurt.

Kathrine sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Just drop it, Glyndon. Go back to your life. Go back to Alex. Just... let this go."

I gritted my teeth. "You think I can do that?"

"Yes," she said immediately.

And maybe, if I had been weaker, I would have.

But I wasn’t weak.

Not anymore.

I inhaled sharply and squared my shoulders. "I told you—I’m not letting you go."

Kathrine let out a tired laugh like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

"You will," she said, voice firm. "Because of this?" She gestured between us. "This isn’t real. It’s nothing. It’s a mistake."

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. "A mistake?"

"Yes."

I clenched my fists so hard my nails bit into my skin.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to shake her and force her to see me.

Instead, I took a step closer, dropping my voice.

"I don’t believe you," I said quietly.

Kathrine’s jaw tightened.

"I don’t believe you," I repeated, even softer this time. "And I don’t think you believe yourself, either."

She turned away, but I saw the way her fingers curled into the fabric of her hoodie.

I took another step forward until I was so close I could feel the warmth of her body.

"You can tell yourself whatever you want," I murmured. "You can push me away, ignore me, pretend I don’t exist. But I’m not going anywhere."

Kathrine’s breath hitched.

I reached out and, very gently, touched her wrist.

She tensed.

I could feel the rapid beat of her pulse under my fingers.

"I will make you mine," I whispered.

She yanked her arm away.

Her breathing was uneven, her posture tense.

For a second, I thought she might admit something—just one thing.

But instead, she grabbed her clothes and turned toward the bathroom.

"Go home, Glyndon," she muttered.

Then she slammed the door behind her.

I stared at the closed door, my heart hammering in my chest.

She could run.

She could hide.

She could tell herself whatever she wanted.

But this wasn’t over.

________

Alex tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, watching me carefully as he drove. Then, as if it had just come to him, he said, "Did you hear about how Kathrine’s not going to be here for long."

I turned to him, confused. "What do you mean?"

Alex glanced at me before turning his eyes back to the road. "I mean, she’s got a future outside of this place. A big one."

I frowned. "What are you talking about?"

He let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "You don’t pay attention, do you?"

"Alex." My patience was running thin. "Just tell me what you mean."

He sighed dramatically, then said, "Kathrine’s going pro, Glyn."

My stomach dropped.

"What?"

Alex smirked. "Yeah. She’s got offers from multiple teams already, but from what I heard, she’s eyeing the Boston Blades."

I stared at him, my heart pounding. "The Boston Blades?"

"Yep," Alex said. "One of the best women’s hockey teams out there. If she signs with them, she’ll be moving states away. Gone. No more Kathrine Andrews in this city. Bye bye the Lesbo."

I suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe.

"Are you—are you sure?" My voice came out hoarse.

Alex shrugged. "I don’t think so, Glyn. I know so."

My fingers dug into my jeans.

She was leaving?

In just a few months?

"Three months," Alex said like he could hear my thoughts. "That’s all the time you’ve got. If you wanna bully her more, you better do it fast."

I swallowed hard, gripping my hands into fists.

Three months.

Three months before she was gone.

Before I lost her for good.

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