Brutal Obsession (97)

The door swings open. “Hurry the fuck up,” one of the guys says.

Grey growls, and the door slams before he can respond.

I rinse my hair, and he takes the opportunity to squirt bodywash into his hands. He takes his time running his sudsy hands up and down my body, touching everywhere. He cups between my legs, and I automatically widen my stance.

“Eager for more, Violent?”

I hum. So what if I am?

“I think I’m addicted to you.” I slick the water out of my eyes and rotate, rinsing away the soap.

“Here’s a secret.” He winds his arms around me, pulling me against his chest. “I’m addicted to you, too.”





42





VIOLET





Willow glowers at me. She was forcibly kidnapped from our apartment by a grumpy Knox this afternoon. I guess neither of them are thrilled with the situation that Grey and I have put them in, but they’re stuck.

Grey doesn’t want anything bad to happen to me, and I’m not staying here without her.

We sit on the couch. I attended all my classes, and I actually found myself paying better attention now that we’ve worked through our issues.

That’s what I tell myself anyway.

And now, I’ve finished explaining everything to my best friend.

“Why hasn’t this stalker made himself known?” She twitches. “I mean, I know you’ve felt like you were being watched, but I assumed Greyson.”

“I did, too. So I brushed it off. And I thought the break-ins were related to the article. An overzealous journalist or something.”

“An overzealous journalist destroying your room?” She bites her lip, her expression twisting. “What if it’s the other way around?”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone focused on Greyson in the article. Both times, right? First, right after the accident. And then the one that came out here. But what if it wasn’t so much about him but you?”

“That still doesn’t answer why they would go to such extremes. Calling me a whore, trashing everything I own…”

She shrugs. “What happened right before that?”

“The video of me and Jack.” I wince. “Worst decision ever. I don’t even like blow jobs.”

She snorts. “Sure.”

“Okay, fine.” I shift. “The video that painted me as a slut was posted—and taken down.” Except, something bothers me about that. Things on the internet tend to live forever, don’t they? That’s what Greyson’s dad’s secretary said, in a sort of offhand way.

“Then that article comes out,” Willow says.

“That was almost immediately after…” I exhale. “That incident.”

She narrows her eyes. “Remind me which incident? There seems to be many.”

“Greyson had her blow me,” Steele says from behind her.

She whirls around, then makes a face at me.

“It was hot,” Steele says.

I glare at him until he raises his hands in surrender. “And never to be repeated,” he hastily adds. “I’ll leave you girls to it…”

He disappears around the corner, and Willow gapes at me. She switches seats and plops down next to me.

“You could’ve told me Greyson had gone off the deep end.”

“That was just the start,” I whisper. “But I think I’m just as fucked up, because I enjoy what he comes up with.”

She laughs. “Okay, fair enough. Match made in Heaven.”

“Or Hell.”

“Did he tell someone? Or Steele maybe? It could’ve been a tipping point.”

I don’t know. But now that I think about it, anyone could’ve seen me go into the locker room. They would’ve seen Steele leave, then Greyson. Then me, much less put together than when I went in.

Thinking back, I doubt I even looked around. I just got out of there as fast as I could.

“The photo they used was taken from my room,” I point out.

She frowns.

“What’re you guys doing?” Greyson enters the room, dropping his gym bag on the floor by the doorway. He flops on the couch on my other side.

“Creating a theory,” Willow says carefully.

“Don’t let me stop you.” He takes my hand and kisses my knuckles.

The move is unexpectedly sweet, and butterflies flutter in my chest.

Willow sniggers when he keeps my hand. “Okay, so. Someone’s been following Violet’s ballet career. Enter: Greyson Devereux and the car crash.” She side-eyes him. “Violet is taken to the hospital, presumably, and Greyson goes on his merry way—”

“Until he’s arrested,” Greyson grumbles.

“Until he’s arrested,” Willow agrees. “Let’s say whoever was following her career was already interested in her personal life. Maybe Violet posts something on social media about being in the hospital, or an accident. Something.”

“I did,” I pipe up.

Greyson makes a noise of contention. “Did you delete it? I don’t remember seeing it on your Instagram.”

My face heats. “Actually, yeah. It was pretty negative. I think I was still coming down off the anesthesia when I posted… I was really upset.”