Brutal Obsession (24)

I narrow my eyes. “Oh?”

“First question. Do you feel hopeless?”

I tilt my head. “I don’t understand.”

He pushes off the lockers, straightening to his full height, but he doesn’t come any closer. He’s changed out of his hockey uniform into a black t-shirt and dark-wash jeans. “Do you feel hopeless? About your situation?”

Awareness prickles along my spine. Like this is a trap.

“What situation?” I ask carefully.

“The one where you can’t dance anymore.” He steps closer. “The one where your leg is trash.”

“Because you hit me—” I clamp my mouth shut.

He smiles. “Ah, I see you realized your mistake.” His gaze lifts, moving to our left.

Only then, belatedly, do I realize Steele has been here the whole time. Leaning against a wall almost entirely in the shadows, blending in with his dark clothes. He stands and tosses Greyson a phone. The screen flashes, enough for me to realize what the fuck just happened.

Did I just break the NDA on video?

I try to think about what it said. The terminology.

Can he sue me for simply saying that he hit me?

He can’t do that.

The words ring in my head.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, Violet,” Greyson says quietly. He approaches, stopping just in front of me. “You’re in trouble for what you just said. You know it, I know it. And you’re going to help me out by taking care of my friend here.”

My stomach turns. “No.”

“Yep. You blew Jack, the worthless sack of a football player, where anyone could see you. If you get Steele off with your mouth like the good slut you are, I’ll delete my evidence.” His gaze hardens. “Or I’ll send that little clip to my father, and we can see what he does with it.”

I look at Steele. Then Greyson.

I’m going to be sick, but I’m not going to let him steamroll me.

“Absolutely not.”

Consequences be damned. He can’t just blackmail me into it.

He gets even closer. I tip my head back to keep my eyes on his face, on his twisted expression.

“You suck him, or I hit send.” He shows me his screen. There’s a message already typed, the video loaded. Ready to blast off to his father.

He’s not kidding, and I feel trapped against Greyson and a hard place that I fought to escape. I glance at Steele again, who doesn’t make a fucking move to stop his friend. He seems fascinated… and confused by the situation.

“Eyes on me,” Greyson orders. He touches my chin, turning my face forward again. “Fair’s fair, don’t you think? I made you come… now it’s your turn.”

“This isn’t funny.” I hate the way my voice shakes. I don’t want to show him fear—that’s what set him off last time. I eye Steele. “Are you okay with this?”

He lifts his shoulder. “I’m fine with whatever you want to suck, Violet.”

I shiver. I didn’t expect that. I didn’t expect a guy I’ve known for three years to have the dark edge… to be okay with this. Maybe Greyson has convinced Steele that I do want this and I’m just playing hard to get. That this is some sick game between us.

Can I convince myself of that, too?

“On your knees,” Greyson says in my ear. “Or shall we run through what might happen after I hit send? I don’t mind giving you a play-by-play.”

I glower at him, crossing my arms over my chest. I refuse to answer, although my stomach feels like it’s full of snakes.

He pretends to contemplate it, but I know better. He’s already six steps ahead. “I hit send. Daddy Dearest sees the video, knows you broke your NDA, and now you’re in the shit position of wondering what the fuck he’s going to do. What did he do to get you to drop the suit in the first place, I wonder?”

Does he not know what his father did for him? None of the details? Just that one day I was pressing charges, taking him to court for a personal injury suit, and the next there was a nondisclosure agreement with my signature on his father’s desk.

And he was off the hook.

I almost laugh. “I’m not sure who the bigger asshole in the family is, Grey. You or your father.”

“I’ll let you in on a secret,” he says, as if I hadn’t spoken. “We’ll take everything from you. But not only you. Your pathetic little family. Your father’s name will be ruined. Your mother will have to leave Rose Hill just like you did. Retreat to a new city and hope that it doesn’t haunt her there. She’ll have no money, no friends, no future. Sound familiar?”

My dad. How dare he bring him into this? I’m so pissed, I don’t know how to answer him. I don’t know how to defend myself against this without making it worse. There’s not a single part of me that thinks he’s joking.

Then his gaze moves down to my leg, hidden by fabric. It always hurts, but the attention he gives it brings the pain to the forefront of my mind.

“Maybe, eventually, someone won’t be so nice. They won’t give you the choice I’m giving you. They’ll trip you or push you down a flight of stairs. Those bones will break again. You’re as fragile as those bones.”

He’s not wrong. One of my fears is that they’ll break again. That I’ll have to endure the last six months over again, only it’ll be worse. Because there are some wounds you can’t heal from. Some pain that never goes away.