Page 92 of Venomous as a Snake

“I don’t have worms,” I argue, my expression stuck between smiling and frowning. “Parasites would wreak havoc on my cobra.”

“Clay had worms, and you have bits of him all over your face,” Collin points out. “What if you swallowed some?”

I roll my gaze to Drew. “Really? You brought up the worms?”

The honey badger shrugs. “Maybe.”

“He had a ringworm when we were kids,” I explain. “Not… Whatever kind of worms you’re thinking of. I called him worms-for-brains because he hated feeling stupid.”

“That you know of,” Walker adds. “He still could have had them.”

“You’re probably right,” I admit. “Now I desperately want a shower. Thanks.”

He smirks at me. “No problem, Blondie.”

I roll my eyes. “If you’re going to watch me drag him across the room, then you might as well go outside and find cover.”

The guys glance at each other before splitting ways to haul the bodies to the front door.

“Where are the ones outside?” Ali asks, shaking his head. “And how many are out there?”

“Seven. There are two just inside the treeline and five in the yard. Well, four whole bodies in the yard, and one in bits beside the burning yellow car.”

“I’ll help you,” Forrest says, following Ali outside.

Collin grins at me and tags along with them.

Drew and Walker drag the five inside minions to the door, dropping them atop Clay. I put my backpack on and grab the smelly blue plastic tote holding Carol. I tuck my pet snake under my left arm, then clutch the grenade in my hand as we climb over the pile of bodies on either side of the front door.

“Over here,” Ali calls, standing behind an SUV with four flat tires.

The Lawless brothers eye me with suspicion, and I shrug as I pass Carol to Drew.

“I popped them all so they couldn’t drive away. If he took to the sky, then I could shoot him down.”

“And the vehicle you drove is…” Walker rolls his hand, wanting an answer.

“That way.” I point toward the trees on the right side of the property. “Half a mile.”

I stop about a hundred feet from the porch, waiting for the guys to get behind the vehicle.

“Throw it and run,” Walker advises, his voice full of humor.

I wave for them to get down.

Then I pull the pin.

And throw the grenade as hard as I can without fucking up my aim.

“Run!” they scream.

I turn, running like an Olympic sprinter, but the blast still catches me. It throws me several feet forward, and I slam into the grass, hitting my forehead and nose on the ground. I roll over, tears pricking my eyes from the pain.

My ears ring as Ali appears above me. His hand hovers, barely touching my nose.

“It’s not broken,” he says, and I’m shocked that I can hear him.

I think this is the first time being deaf to background noise has come in handy. I still heard the blast, but it didn’t affect my hearing like it would have the guys.