Page 7 of Secret Obsession
Knox
idc what you’re doing, but I’ll fucking lump you in with the freshmen if I have to come find you
I’m on my way. Fuck off.
I can only lock the knob of her door, not the deadbolt, on my way out. I curse myself that lack of foresight, then push it out of my head. There’s another door at the bottom of the stairs that also requires a key or a passcode—and this one is automatic. So I don’t feelasbad, hurrying away from the defenseless girl.
It’s not like a big, bad boogieman is out to get her.
The only one she has to worry about is me.
Except, as I’m coming out of the building, someone detaches from the shadows and steps toward me.
“Hey, asshole,” they call.
I glance over my shoulder at them, ignoring the prickle of apprehension that sweeps down my spine.
“I wasn’t finished with her.”
My feet stop moving, and I face the guy striding my way. “Oh?”
The closer he gets, the more I realize I recognize him from the club. Prime draws a lot of bad seeds, the small percentage that makes up the underbelly of Crown Point’s population, and clearly this guy is one of them. He was all over Willow until I hauled her out of there. I mean, he helped her up onto the top of the bar, for fuck’s sake. Fed her drinks until she couldn’t even walk in a straight line. Pawed at her incessantly, even after I got her away from him the first time.
Notmyfault.
Not hers either.
I was happy to help her maneuver out of that dance, too. The guy was too much in her space. And by coming to her rescue, I’ve discovered his loose screw.
“So you’re pissed that she rejected you?” I tilt my head back, looking down my nose at him. Although it’s kind of hard, because he’s a fucking giant. Like he might have some ogre blood in him, if ogres actually exist. This guy makes me think they do.
“We were—”
“Or maybe your plan was to get her so blindingly drunk, she’d go home with you.” I narrow my eyes at him.
He’s inching closer. My arms are at my sides, loose, but my fingers curl into fists. Or maybe he did something worse. Something to ensure he’d get her the way he wanted. That makes more sense than her passing out from drinking too much.
“Did you spike her drinks?”
He leers at me. “None of your fucking business.”
“What’s your name?” I ask him.
He’s got buzzed hair, a brutish brow. Cold eyes that bore into mine. I recognize his touch of crazy and fully reject it.
“Doesn’t really matter,” I mutter to myself.
“What?”
I lunge for him, disregarding that we’re on a public street. Who gives a flying shit about that? My fist lands a direct hit on his throat. Sparring with Knox, and then dealing with opponents on the ice, taught me to always go for the weak spots. Especially when the guy coming for me has fifty pounds on me.
He chokes and falls backward, eyes going wide for a second. He makes a gurgling noise and swings at me. He’s faster than I anticipate, and the hit lands on my cheekbone and nose. My head whips to the side. He grabs the front of my shirt and hauls me in. His free hand wraps around my throat and squeezes.
My breath is cut off.
“I’m gonna go up and find her,” he says in my ear. “And I’m going to take what the slut owes me. I bought her four drinks, only for you to swoop in?”
My hand is in my pocket before I can register. I stare into his eyes as I wrap my fingers around the folding knife I always carry around with me. With burning-hot fury, I pull it out. Open it one-handed.
