Page 183 of Secret Obsession
“You’re bargaining? You’re on the floor, with nothing left to give.” He strides toward me, pushing the muzzle of the gun into my forehead. “You stupid boy. I’ve followed you forweeks. I know the perverted little games you play. I know that you thrive on chaos. You like to temper storms—but this is one you cannot quell.”
“You can’t kill me and leave her in there,” I growl. “What do you thinkmybrother will do when he discovers me dead and Willow still locked in there?”
“Beg.” He shifts back a step, his weight transferring.
“Please just let me say goodbye.” I rise on my knees. My hand is so close to my pocket, to the knife that killed his brother, that my hand almost twitches. But somehow, it stays steady. “Please. She deserves a goodbye. Wouldn’t you have wanted—”
“Shut up,” he hisses. He takes a few steps back and jerks the gun toward the case—it’s clear permission to move. And from his pocket, he withdraws a key. He throws it on the floor in front of the case freezer.
I lunge for the key and pick it up. I unlock it and yank the padlock off, stuffing it into my pocket and palming the folded knife in one movement. And then I’m shoving the lid open, and light and air rushes into it.
For a moment, I think I’ve been tricked.
But then I lean over farther and find Willow curled at the bottom of the case. She’s bleeding from a cut on her temple, and her wrists and ankles are duct taped. Her eyes are closed. She’s in the fetal position, for fuck’s sake, looking half-dead. I reach inside and quickly slip the knife into her hand.
Then I feel her throat. For the pulse that Ineedto be there. It takes an agonizing few seconds to feel it. But then it’s there, bumping against the pads of my fingers, and relief whooshes through me. I cup her jaw, which is still warm, and move her head.
“Wake up, wild girl,” I whisper, shaking her shoulder. “You’re okay. Wake up.”
The edge of the freezer digs into my stomach. I keep reaching for her, but I don’t try to haul her up and out. I just want her—no, Ineedher—to open her eyes.
When they do, when she comes back to consciousness, they’re the prettiest, most dazed jewels I’ve ever seen.
“Am I dead?” she whispers.
“No, baby.” My voice catches. “I’m so sorry. I love you. Please remember that.”
I squeeze her hand, folding her fingers harder around the knife.
The masked man looms over us. He kicks out, his heel connecting with my ribs and sending me crashing sideways to the floor. I sprawl, then crawl backward. I glare at him, my heart skipping.
“Are you going to shoot me in the face?” I ask.
He scoffs. “And make you unrecognizable? Maybe I should.”
“What did you do with your brother?”
He continues to follow me. “He’s in a safe place. After you’re dead, I’m going to frame your girl, here. It happened in her apartment, didn’t it? By the faint smell of bleach, you tried to be thorough with your cleaning. Except the odds are in my favor. All it would take is a speck of blood… and the body.”
I grit my teeth.
“Cheer up,” he adds. “At least she’s not dying. She’ll live a long, miserable life in prison… well, I guess unless she gets the death penalty.”
“Fuck off,” I snap.
His eyes harden. He pulls off the mask and stares down at me. His face is a lot like his brother’s. Not handsome. Not particularly masculine. He’s got a weak jawline that slopes into his neck and a hooked, crooked nose. His brow bone is the most prominent thing on his face, and thick eyebrows.
He looks like an asshole.
“On your knees.” He widens his stance and bringing the gun up. “I’m going to enjoy watching your girl scream as she watches you die.”
I grimace.
He presses the gun to my forehead again, looming over me. His finger twitches on the trigger, and my whole body goes tight.
Bracing to die.
At least I got to tell Willow I love her—and the knife will give her a fighting chance of escaping this madman. Maybe she’s already cutting herself free and getting ready to run.
