Page 11 of Secret Obsession
Your game with me, he said. Like this is just another way to toy with me. And of course it is. He and I… we’ve been glancing off of each other for years. It’s only fair that I picked his brother, got screwed over, and have to pay that price twice.
So the question is, do I play along?
Or do I fight it with every fiber of my being?
“Let him suffer,” I whisper. “But I’m not playing your game, Miles. I never will.”
I stuff my feet into my winter boots by the door. My jacket is slung over a kitchen chair, and I snatch that up, too. I don’t know where I’m going to go, but anywhere is better than here.
Miles doesn’t move. The guy has fallen on his side, and blood soaks the rug so much that it pools above the fibers. I take a good, hard look. It seems like I need to engrain this in my memory to remember, then I take my keys from the hook. I pause at the broken lock on my door, the chair holding the whole thing closed, and shove it aside. The door swings inward on its own, revealing the empty hallway.
“Willow,” Miles calls.
I glance back at him, gripping the doorframe. He’s moved closer to the man, closer to me.
He crouches beside him, seeming fascinated with the way he’s bleeding out. But then he looks back up at me. “No good deed goes unpunished.”
He pulls the knife out.
4
WILLOW
Ishould be scared. But all I feel isnumb.
Does that make me a bad person?
After leaving my apartment, I climbed in my car and just started driving. I end up at the Point that Crown Point is named after. The restaurant just up the hill a little way, the one that offers spectacular views on a clear day, is closed. The clock on my dash informs me that it’s eight fifty-two, which is entirely too early after being out last night. And… drugged. But the breakfast places will be packed at this hour. Classes start tomorrow, and Sunday brunch is a popular thing for college students.
If only I was hungry.
What Ishoulddo is call the police. It’s probably bad that I haven’t already done it.
My phone rings. I glance down at it, my brow furrowing when I spot Amanda’s name. She graduated last year, but she’s been assisting our coach for the dance team. She kind of had a personality transplant when Aspen came on the scene… probably because she thought she and Steele were endgame.
She was proven wrong pretty fast.
It seems weird to have to talk to her after witnessing what Miles just did. But maybe it would be better to ground myself in something normal, so I accept the call.
“Morning!” My voice is fake chipper.
“Willow, hi!” There’s the same fakeness in Amanda’s voice.
Which banishes the numbness and instead puts snakes in my gut.
“What’s up?”
She sighs. “I’m sorry for calling so early. I just wanted to catch you before the beginning of the semester…”
My brow furrows, but I don’t respond. I don’t know what the correct response is.
“Listen, we’ve decided that the dance team needs to condense. It’s nothing personal, but—”
“Wait.” I lean forward and grip the steering wheel. “What are you saying?”
“You’re out.” Her voice is flat now, with no sign of fake cheer. “I’m sorry, Willow, but there’s a lot riding on us this year. And you’re just not keeping up.”
I scoff. “You’re kidding.”
