Page 61 of Tempest’s Torment

"I can do both."

"You've never done both."

Venom points his fork at Tempest. "Back me up."

Tempest takes a bite of his lunch. "No."

"Traitor."

Tempest glares at him. "I wasn't on your side to begin with."

Venom sighs dramatically. "I don't know why I bother."

"Because you like hearing yourself talk," Savage says without looking up from his food.

A few people around the table laugh, and Venom presses a hand to his chest. "That was unnecessarily accurate."

I smile before I can stop myself and Tempest notices, but he doesn't say anything, just goes back to eating.

Conversation bounces around the table. Someone asks Rogue about a job, and Ghost and Hades disagree about something I don't understand. Jinx sits farther down the table, listening more than talking, only joining in when someone asks him a direct question. Nobody seems to be trying to impress anyone, they interrupt each other, and steal food off each other's plates, and complain about who's making the tea later. It's loud, chaotic, and comfortable.

At one point, Venom reaches across and steals a roast potato from Tempest's plate. Tempest doesn't even look up; he simply reaches across and takes two from Venom's.

Venom stares at his plate. "That's aggressive."

Tempest shrugs. "You started it."

"I took one."

Tempest glares at him. "So did I."

"You took two."

Tempest nods. "I know."

I laugh and Venom points at me. "See? She thinks I'm funny."

"No," Tempest says calmly. "She thinks you're an idiot."

Venom looks at me. "He's definitely smiling more."

I glance at Tempest. He's looking at his plate, but the corner of his mouth twitches.

"Maybe a little," I admit.

Venom throws both hands into the air. "I knew it!"

"Eat your lunch," Ghost says from the other end of the table.

Venom sighs. "Nobody appreciates me."

"Correct," half the table answers.

Laughter rolls around the room. I look down at my plate for a second, and then back around the table. Tempest was right; this isn't just a motorcycle club, it's a family.

And for the first time in a very long time... I don't feel like the outsider sitting at the edge of the room. I feel like there's a place for me at the table.

We leave the clubhouse a few hours after lunch, the door closes behind us and the noise fades with it, replaced by the usual sounds of the city.