Page 14 of Secret Obsession
We stare down at the dead man.
People are so fascinating as they die. Kind of horrific, too. The blood spurting out of his neck, the artery flowing to his brain severed, eventually slowed to a gurgle when his heart stopped. It took minutes. Not seconds, like in the movies.
I didn’t mind.
Now he’s lifeless on the area rug, his eyes still open, his body at a weird angle, and I have to force myself to tune in to the conversation around me.
“…no one will know he was here. So why does some blood matter?”
“Because blood always fucking matters. Haven’t you ever seen a single episode ofCSI?”
“If they trace him back here—”
“Oh, look, fivehundredwitnesses who all say they saw him dancing with Willow, then leave the club shortly after? Not suspicious at all.”
“She wasn’t buying her own drinks, they probably don’t have her name—”
“Prime scans IDs at the door, dipshit. Bet they keep video footage, too, just in case.”
“Which means Miles would be seen carrying her out, cementing her alibi. If he even wants to be dragged into this, which I’d highly doubt.”
I tear my gaze away from the would-be rapist. “Of course I’m her alibi.”
My friends go silent.
Jacob was the first to arrive. He stepped in with plastic booties on over his shoes and a ball cap tugged low over his face. And then he made me put on the plastic booties, too. Said if we accidentally stepped in blood…
And then he looked at me and grimaced at what he saw. The blood coating me. It sprayed rather violently, and I didn’t flinch away when I pulled the knife. I was too busy focusing on Willow’s reaction.
Greyson got here next. He’s been rather silent thus far, like me. Plastic fucking booties on his feet, his hands tucked into his pockets. Unlike me, he doesn’t want so much as a fingerprint linking him here. I understand that. If there was evidence of him here, he’d have to loop in Violet. Make her complicit, too—something he would never do.
My brother and Steele came together. Knox’s brows were pinched, and he’s talked the most. Unsurprisingly. Really, the majority of the argument has been between Steele and Knox, who seem to be in the same boat as the rest of us.
Totally fucking clueless about dead bodies.
Why would they know anything? It’s not like we go around murdering people. Usually, it’s more of a beat up, seriously injure, or maim energy.
“We need to get the body out of here,” Jacob says. “Unless you want to call the cops right now and tell them you found it. But that would mean a mess for Willow.”
I grunt.Iwant to do the torturing. Not some whiny detective in a windowless room.
“Why the fuck would you kill him?” Knox snaps at me.
Again.
He’s been periodically asking me that. Well, I think the question just flies out of his mouth. He seems more concerned than angry. Because at the end of the day, I’m the one who did it. I’m the one with blood on my hands. Literally and metaphorically. I just can’t seem to give a shit.
I’ve bitten my tongue until this moment, but they all deserve answers.
“He drugged her,” I finally answer. “At the club, he put something in her drink. Or more than one drink, I don’t know. I carried her here, he followed. Confronted me outside. Came at me—”
“Self-defense,” Jacob inserts.
“I stabbed him in the gut. I could’ve left him on the sidewalk or just punched him instead of pulling my knife. I could’ve called nine-one-one as soon as it happened. But look at him. He’s huge.”
“And instead of leaving him on the sidewalk…”
“I wanted to turn it into a lesson.” My mood plummets because I don’t think Willow learned her lesson in the slightest. “So I brought him up here and kept him alive until she woke up this morning.”
