Tryst Six Venom by Penelope Douglas

I slide the switch, the blade unsheathing, and I watch him watch the knife,
ready.
“You know those clapping games little girls play?” I ask him. “They
seem silly and frivolous, but actually they teach motor coordination and
dexterity.”
The girls at the table stiffen as Milo watches in amusement, safely
shielded by Callum.
I hear the screen door behind me swing open and shut, bouncing against
the doorframe a couple of times.
I hold up the knife and lay my hand down on the table. “But I always
liked the boys’ game instead,” I tell him. “You ever play stabberscotch?”
A couple of shadows fall over me, and Trace’s body spray wafts through
my nostrils.
“Thirty seconds.” I balance the tip of the knife on my palm and then flip
it, catching it. “If I don’t cut myself, you take your fucking slugs and get out
of here.” I look at Krisjen, the nice one. “And that means you too.”
She keeps her mouth shut, simply looking to Callum to see what he’s
going to do.
“And Becks can stay,” I add. She’s the only one I really like.
But then Callum asks, “Why should I make a deal to stay when you know
I don’t have to leave?”
“As if you’ll have to leave anyway, right?” I fire back. “I’m a loser. I’ll
lose.”
He laughs, but it’s a short, nervous one, and he doesn’t meet my eyes.
I smirk. “Scared?”
His gaze flickers to my brothers behind me, who stay quiet to see how
this will play out, and is caught between a rock and hard place. Lose and he
has to leave. Or they’ll make him leave.
And he’s smart enough to know that I never play games, so I wouldn’t
play one unless I knew I could win.
So he does the only thing he can. “Not at all,” he finally replies. “I’ll take
the bet.”
Flattening my left hand on the table, I spread my fingers wide and dig the
point of the blade into first position, on the outside of my thumb.
But just then, I feel something, and that perfume hits me before I even see
her. Her hand slides underneath mine, and I still as Clay covers my back, her
breath on my ear.