Page 169 of Secret Obsession
“You didn’t have to murder him,” I whisper-yell. “You didn’t have to use him as an intimidation tactic.”
His eyes darken. “I may have twisted it that way, Willow, but he was dead either way. But at least you learned something.”
I throw my hands up. “At least Ilearnedsomething? What, that my boyfriend is a psychopath?” I freeze. “You’re not my boyfriend.”
Oh, fuck. He’s grinning.
Argument forgotten, he looks like he just won everything.
“Boyfriend, huh? Not a fake one. For real.”
“Nope.” I step backward.
“Okay, fine, you can come.”
He lunges forward, and I let out a sharp squeal. We’re in the middle of the parking lot of a rest stop, but no one gives a shit. He grabs my hips and tosses me over his shoulder, then breaks into arun.
“She’s my real girlfriend!” Miles yells.
I shake my head and laugh.
What the fuck is wrong with us?
“Fake,” I cry out. “Fake girlfriend!”
He slaps my ass.
I yelp again and dig my nails into his back, hoping they cause some real damage. Like blood and scars or whatever.
He runs in a wide circle, drawing the attention of everyone else in our group. He slows down beside Violet’s car and leans forward, setting me down.
I grip his forearm, steadying myself, and glare at him.
“Was that necessary?”
“Celebrations? Yes, always.” He winks at me, then focuses on his friends. “Willow’s coming with us.”
“Fine by me,” Greyson says. “As long as you don’t fuck her in the backseat again…”
Miles smirks.
“Yeah, yeah,” I mumble, elbowing Miles. “He’ll behave.”
“It’s you we need to worry about,” he says in my ear.
My face flames.
Was that me? Did I instigate that? I mean…maybe. But also, definitely not. Miles is just a conniving jerk. That’s why I like him. Not love, no, no, no. Butlike? Yeah. Sure.
I hug Aspen and Violet. They get in the rental car and head out, and the guys and I pile into Violet’s car. I’m squashed between Steele and Miles, which Miles has no trouble fixing by plucking me up and putting me on his lap sideways. I lean against him and the door, and he wraps his arms around me like a seat belt.
Soon enough, we’re pulling off the highway and navigating through a small, dark town. It’s silent, with no sign of night life, and eventually we come to the top of a long driveway.
Steele tells Greyson the code, and the gate—it has a gate!—swings inward. I stare at Steele, then at the upcoming house. It’shuge. Like, mansion big. I have no idea if the Whiteshaws or Devereuxes are this kind of rich, but it’s clear that Steele’s dad has a fuck ton of money.
Greyson parks in front of the garage, and we all pile out. Steele types in the code to the garage, and it rumbles upward, the lights flickering on.
The garage is empty, luckily. We hurry inside, and the garage door slides down behind us. I follow the guys down a short hallway, into another garage-like room. It feels like a guy’s version of a wet dream, which is weird. Like, games and an oversized television and couch, and a workbench along the far wall. The freezer is on the far wall, padlocked shut.
