Page 65 of Secret Obsession
And my bed…
Feathers from my pillows, the quality ones Mom insisted I’d sleep better on, are everywhere. On the floor, smashed into the carpet, coating the comforter. I step inside, and my nose wrinkles. The foul, bitter stench of gasoline hits me, and I almost choke.
It’s everywhere. Soaked into the carpet, the clothes still hanging in my closet, the bed. This place is a tinderbox waiting to go up in flames.
The hairs on the back of my neck rise.
I need to get out of here.
This—they were going to set the place on fire? Did Miles and I interrupt the burglar? Is the person responsible even a burglar if they meant to harm me?
I shudder and back up.
A hand wraps around my mouth a split second before I bump into someone.
I scream.
The sound is muffled, but it rings in my ears nonetheless. I’m lifted off my feet and bodily carried out of my apartment. Downstairs. All the way to the car, where my assailant drops me and shoves me against the hood.
I barely catch myself in time, and I whirl around.
Miles stands in front of me, madder than I’ve ever seen him.
“Are you fucking crazy?” he yells.
I stare at him.
“You could’ve—you cannot come back here alone. Do you understand me?” He’s still yelling. His eyes are wild, his damp hair messier than usual.
Usual.
He grabs my hand and pulls me into him, and he catches the back of my neck. It’s not really a hug, but maybe it’s an embrace. His hands on medosomething to me, and I hate it as much as I want it. Like his touch is something to crave.
It’s not. But still, his fingers digging into my neck, over the bandage hiding Amanda’s claw marks, sends tingles down my spine. It’s not entirely unpleasant, all things considered.All thingsbeing that I thought I was going to die just a moment ago. Or be kidnapped. Or—
“Well?”
I raise my eyebrow and try to dispel the butterflies suddenly running rampant in my chest. I tip my head back. Catching my breath is out of the question, especially looking up at Miles like this. “Well, what?”
“Are you sorry?”
I squeeze his wrist with my free hand and slowly shake my head. “No.”
He releases me just as fast as he grabbed me. He yanks open the passenger door and leaves it, circling to the driver’s seat. He has the keys to his car. I don’t know how—they were in my pocket. But as I pat my jacket down, it becomes obvious that he stole them back while I was distracted.
I shiver.
The light in my bedroom is still on. Sometime between then and now, the sun has set completely, and it’s dark enough that the streetlights are beginning to flicker on. We’re in the shadows between two posts, which is exactly where I don’t want to linger. The light can stay on. Maybe it’ll act as afuck youto the person who destroyed it.
I slip into the car and slam the door behind me. Then, after a moment of consideration, flip the lock.
Miles drives us back to his house without saying anything. He doesn’t even look in my direction. And that’s fair enough, I suppose, but the longer I sit, the more I fidget.
I should’ve stayed with my friends and gone dancing. I put on the dress and everything. Let them do my makeup, my hair.
Tears fill my eyes, and I turn my gaze to the ceiling. The car stops, but the burning behind my eyes doesn’t lessen. The cracks in my mask are pushing through, my guard failing me completely. Miles gets out of the car. It’s only insanity keeping me frozen in place while I try to pull myself together.
“Come on.” He’s got my door unlocked and open, and he takes my hand.
