Page 64 of Venomous as a Snake

Forrest charges in through the front door, then abruptly stops when he hits the diffusing tension. “Are you good, Kody?”

“Fine,” I say with a grin. “Totally fine.”

My arm still burns like Hell is trying to send an army through me, but I won’t tell them that while they’re all on edge. That’s an over-breakfast conversation.

“We’re staying the night here,” Walker comments as he joins Drew in the kitchen.

“No. You are not,” I tell him.

He narrows his eyes at me. “What?”

“No.” I shake my head. “It’s too soon. He saw us all together tonight, so he’ll be watching.”

“Right,” the croc drawls. “And if he sees you alone, then what?”

“If he sees the three of you staying, then it will be harder to get to him.”

Walker lumbers toward me as he repeats, “And if you’re alone?”

“Collin or Forrest can stay,” I reply, nodding at the two standing outside of the discussion. “Or both of them.”

Drew jumps in before his brother can speak. “What are you thinking?”

“You need to ask?” I inquire with a smirk.

“No,” he mutters, handing me a bottle of water. “I can read your mind, but they can’t.”

“Clay hasn’t seen me with Forrest or Collin, so he’ll be curious why we were together. And then he’ll be mad when he sees them staying, because we all know someone is watching already. If you guys are going to stay with me, then you’ll need to swap out days with them. It’ll fuck with Clay’s head.”

“He’ll think you’ve taken on two more mates,” Forrest deduces, twisting the cap off my water bottle when I don’t move to drink it.

I shrug my right shoulder. “If he does, then he’ll shorten our window of attack. He’ll want to talk about our relationship and try to sway me before he comes in, guns blazing.”

Walker runs his hands through his hair as Drew chuckles.

“Could you not?” Ali snarls, still on edge.

“What?” I ask.

“You were just shot.”

I frown at him. “It’s the equivalent of a skinned knee.”

“Then shrug both your shoulders,” Ali challenges, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Fine. It’s a little bruised, and it burns like Satan himself licked off my flesh. But it’s not deep. It literally just grazed my skin. No muscle. Come check for yourself, Dr. Ramesh.”

And he does.

Of course he does…

Ali unwraps the bandage from my arm, poking around the wound before he sighs. “It might scar.”

“Chicks dig scars.”

He just stares at me.

“Okay,” I placate, then snark, “Let me find a healer or some magic berries—”