Page 131 of Fame and Obsession
“But you love me anyway.” He runs a hand through his inky dark hair.
I smile. “Yes, I do. Every girl dreams of having a douche bag of her very own.”
He plants a kiss on the top of my head as Faith tucks a six-pack of beer under her arm and shoos us toward the hall. “Out, you two. No more flirty-flirt. There’s drinky-drink to be done, and this dead cheerleader plans on finding herself a very alive football player.”
Just as we reach the stairwell, I remember I left my phone in my car. If Faith is playing the role of a human football tonight, I’m getting blackmail.
“Hey, guys, go ahead and start walking to the Greek court. I’m going to grab my phone out of my car. I’ll catch up in a minute.”
“You sure?” Shane asks.
I nod, waving them off, then take a quick right into the parking lot behind the dorms. After rummaging through my car, I have my phone tucked in my hand, about to slam the door when his voice slithers from behind.
“Hello, princess.”
I freeze as my heart slams agains my ribcage. I know that voice. I’m going to be sick.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I wheeze as a pointed blade pushes into my hip. I scream, but he cuts it off by clamping a hand over my mouth.
“Now what kind of greeting is that? You think you’re so goddamn special that I can’t find you? I’ll always find you, princess.”
The lack of oxygen is dimming my vision. I try to scream for Shane and Faith to come back but nothing comes out.
After dragging me behind the car, he turns me so that my back is shoved against the trunk and presses the blade horizontally against my neck.
“You’ve caused me a world of shit, little girl. It’s time to pay up.”
“Phoebe?”
My head jerks up. Shane.
“This is a private party, Superman. Fuck off.”
“We both know that’s not going to happen,” Shane said, unnervingly calm. “Let her go, and we’ll all forget this happened.”
“What kind of fucking idiot do you think I am?”
“I don’t think you’re an idiot, man. You just need to calm down and let her go.”
I know how this is going to play out. I know him, and he won’t stop.
This ends now.
Swallowing a mouthful of vomit, I bite down on the hand holding the knife just as Shane dives forward to pull me back.
But I’m sick of being a victim…
No more tears.
No more screams.
No more fear.
He gets nothing.
Throwing my body into my attacker, I plant myself in front of Shane, finally on equal footing.
“Hello, Daddy.”
