Page 8 of Secret Obsession
I slide the cold metal blade into his side without thinking.
He goes still as the foreign object enters his body. I yank it out and stab into him again, and hot liquid rushes over my knuckles. His grip on my throat tightens, almost crushingly strong, then loosens. He tries to draw back, but suddenly, I’m the one holding on tohim.
“No, no you don’t,” I grunt.Shit. I just stabbed a guy.
He stumbles with me, both hands pressing to the open wounds in his side. He doesn’t even seem to notice where I guide him, his eyes are so fucking wide. I can see the whites on all sides, his brows lifted.
I haul him deeper into the shadows and contemplate leaving him, then change my mind. This is a shitty situation, but I can make the most of it. And I will. With sudden clarity, I know exactly what I have to do.
Back toward Willow’s apartment. I type in the code, and the door swings open under my hand. The guy comes with me, although I’m half dragging him. Up the stairs, leaving a trail of blood, to Willow’s apartment door.
Thank fuck she lives in a duplex and not something more populated.
I break the lock on her door and shove him through. He sprawls on his face in the middle of her living room, and I close the door behind me. It doesn’t latch, though, and I have to grab one of her chairs to prop against it.
My heart is pounding out of my chest.
I’ve never been so fucking exhilarated.
The guy crawls across the floor, seeming to realize that we’re now even more secluded. Maybe he senses that the end is near for him. I take a moment to look around, then nod to myself. The plan solidifies, until I’ve got a roadmap in my head.
Then I get to work.
3
WILLOW
Iwake up with a dry mouth and a headache. My eyes crack open, and I immediately groan at the light coming in through my windows. My blinds are mostly closed slats, but I must not have remembered to pull the blackout shades down. Which means, as my windows point east, I get a face full of the morning sun.
It’s awful.
Anyway, the dry mouth is fixed by the bottle of water on my nightstand. The blinding headache, however…
Oh.Aspirin. I sit up a bit more, wincing, and swallow the pills.
Who put me to bed?
Hell, who got mehome?
I scrunch up my nose and close my eyes, going back through my night. The last memory I have is of dancing on the bar and being dragged off it. I look beside me, my pulse skyrocketing, but I’m alone.
Didn’t bring anyone home, then.
Maybe Violet came and got me. Judging by the brightness, it’s still relatively early. The sun hasn’t risen high enough to stop being a nuisance—it’s right at eye level, I think. Beaming in with enough strength to kill me. I lean over and eye the trash bin from my bathroom placed on the floor by my nightstand.
“You’re awake.”
I scream and fall off the bed.
Not sure how that happens. One minute I’m leaning over, the next I’m on the floor.
Miles Whiteshaw, one of two guys I’d love to never see ever again, stands in the doorway. He… he was there last night. At Prime. We danced for two seconds.
Goddamn it, drunk Willow.
Why do I have the insane urge to whore myself out to the Whiteshaw brothers?
Wait, no. I definitely told him to get lost.
