Viperous
About Viperous
The Convert
Life has never been this good.
True, I miss my friends and everything I used to have but now there’s hope in a place where it never lived before.
Inside of me—her.
Us.
She’s built something great and all are welcome.
The only problem with that is that he thinks he’s welcomed too. She doesn’t remember him, or at least that’s how she likes to live her new life.
I can see it in his eyes.
The disgust, the disdain… the jealousy.
I’ll do everything I can to protect her from all of the evil in the world.
Including my own father.
The Zealot
Past lives are in the past for a reason.
I’ve been blessed with so much more than I used to be, and I can only hope that I can do the same for everyone that comes to my home in the desert.
A place where only love and light shine—where the terrible things I used to do and be were left to rot in the proverbial rearview mirror.
He doesn’t like that I don’t remember him or his friend. He seems to think that I’m lying to him. I do recall some of the trauma but not all of it and I never want to again.
Maybe he’ll learn to forgive and forget.
Maybe he won’t.
Either way, I’ll lead him to the light and show him that he can be so much more than what he is, and in the end, he’ll thank me for it.
The Deviant
Blondes and junkies have always been my no-go’s.
Everyone has something that makes their skin crawl, and those are mine.
Granted, things could be worse when it comes down to it, but I’ve seen more than enough. After I came home, I saw the disappointment in his eyes—and felt it like a kick to the face when he accused me of being the one thing I never have been.
Back out to the holy land I go to get some answers. I don’t understand how someone can be so happy living a lie and forget the past as quickly as she did.
I promised him that I’d bring her back and I will.
All’s well that ends well, right?
Guess it depends on who’s ending you’re looking at.
One
A Promise Broken
Lakyn
I’ve been staring out the windshield for the past thirty minutes in a daze. I got back to Mesa about an hour ago, but I’m parked a street over from my house turning everything over and over in my head for the hundredth time.
The shit that I just went through fucked with me more than it should have, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to walk into my home like everything is okay.
I begin to pick at my fingernails as I think of the upside of things. Red and the kid are gone, which means my life might actually start to return to my spectacular version of normal. The downside of things is that Trixie doesn’t remember me or Ichabod, and that’s not going to be easy to explain. Fucking impossible, actually, because Ich has had a hard-on for Trixie since before I even met him, and even though my dick is all he wants now I know he’ll lose it over this shit.
Leaning my head back against the headrest, I blow out my breath. I know I can’t fucking stay here forever, especially not since the asshole that apparently lives here is honking for me to get out of his spot, but it would be nice to be able to steer clear of the old ball and chain until I could figure things out.
“Yeah, yeah,” I grumble as I sit up and turn the key. Running a hand back through my hair, I glance in the mirror before I pull away and head over to my place.
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter as I pull the truck into the driveway. It seems that Ichabod has been staking out the window because it’s almost midnight but as soon as I pull in, the curtains shift, and I see his face briefly.
Clearing my throat, I retrieve the keys and tuck them into my pocket before I push the truck door open and step out.
I’m not in the mood for this, I think as soon as the front door swings open and he steps out onto the porch.
A brief glance in his direction and I immediately want to get back into the truck and leave again.
His hair is neatly combed.
He’s wearing black slacks and a long-sleeved black shirt, and his newest dress shoes.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s wearing his Sunday best, but that’s not what’s bothering me.
It’s the fucking look I catch in his eye. The one of hope that the one person that he was always so desperate to have love him has finally come home to roost.
And now I have to tell him that she’s sitting on a completely different nest in Fuck-knows-where Middle of the Desert.
“Hey,” I say to him when I get my feet to start shifting. I do my best to keep my stride as confident as it always is and flash him the best smile that I can.
“Hey,” he calls back, waving at me. But his eyes are locked on the truck still and I know that his little Goodyear blimp of hope is about to go down like the fucking Hindenburg.
He cranes his neck and I sidestep to stay in his line of sight. His shoulders go limp almost instantly, his eyes darken, and I can see his lips morph into a tight line.
Oh yeah, this is gonna be fun.
“Where’s Bea?” he asks in a loud voice that I would almost mistake for a shout if he had the balls for that kind of shit.
“Go inside. I don’t want the neighbors gawking at us because you got your period while I was gone,” I snap at him as I breeze by and grab him by the elbow to haul him inside.
Ichabod digs his heels into the porch, but one hard yank and the skinny little fucker damn near tumbles into the house. He trips and stumbles but manages to stay on his feet and slam the door shut in response to me coming home emptyhanded.
Fucking fantastic.
I walk into the living room completely determined not to lose my shit on him and sink down into my favorite chair.
Reaching for the pack of smokes I left by the ashtray, I shake one out. Before I have the chance to light it, Ichabod comes over and slaps it out my mouth.
I grind my teeth, square my jaw, and get to my feet. Ichabod doesn’t take the step back that I expect him to, instead, he balls his fists at his sides and mimics my anger.
It’s almost like looking into a mirror.
Huh. Isn’t that what the kid said?
I crack my neck and walk over to where the cigarette ricocheted off the couch and go back to my chair.
When I try to light it, I realize it’s broken, and I sigh.
“Where’s Bea?” he asks again in a slightly more acceptable tone.
“I couldn’t find her.”
“You’re a liar!” he shouts, trembling with rage instead of the vague sheen of anxiety he normally wears when he gets feisty.
I arch an eyebrow as I look up at him. Of all the time he’s spent with me, he should know that is the one thing I’ll never be.
“What makes you think that?” I ask him tiredly as I shake another smoke out and clench it between my teeth.
When I see Ichabod take a step toward me, I throw a small pillow at him to keep him from breaking this one too.
“Because Aftyn and Daphne aren’t here,” he barks. I roll my eyes. In what world that makes sense to anyone other than him is beyond me, but ever since he got off the smack, he’s been a lot more aware of his surroundings.