“You’re just throwing my own questions back at me. All the time!” I cry. “You’re not even making sense!”
“All the time? I can count on one hand how many times you’ve spoken to me, Val.”
Something about that sentence strikes me as odd, but I don’t have time to analyze it in detail. My emotions are boiling over.
“So let’s just leave it at that. Right now I’m ready to go—”
“You want sense?” He leans in until his forehead is pressed against mine, forcing me to stare into the abyss of his eyes. “You think I’m going to let this go? We haven’t even started talking about how casually you’re taking this. Like you’re used to being talked to like a whore. Does this happen every Sunday, Wylie? Do your ‘friends’ send you graphic instructions on how to take a dick? Does Sasha know you’re okay with this?”
“Shut up!” I snap, my hand flying up to shove his shoulder. It’s like hitting a wall of solid granite. “Shut up about my brother.”
“Why didn’t you call him the second you read that trash?”
“How do you know I didn’t?!”
“Because he’d be here by now!” Devlin roars back, refusing to budge an inch. “He’d be on a flight from three states away, and more importantly,he would have called me!”
The hallway goes silent, save for our jagged, synchronized breathing. “W-what?” I whisper. “Why would he call you?”
Devlin goes rigid. The fire in his eyes doesn’t die, but it changes, smoldering into something heavy and suffocating.
All I can hear is his heavy breathing.
It’s becoming harder for me to get air into my lungs—from the heat of his closeness and the tension of the conversation.
“Because…” his voice is a strained growl, “that’s how it’s supposed to be.”
" You are such an arrogant prick, you know that? Just try telling Sasha about this.”
“I won’t, but not because Mr Naivety’s giving me orders, but because I’m going to handle it myself.”
“Oh, right. You’re saving me. Saving the poor, naive kid from the big, bad trolls.” I’m rambling now, the adrenaline making me reckless. “Or are you saving me from my own ‘vulgar nature’ because I’m not screaming loud enough about that card?”
I realize I’m getting carried away, but it’s impossible to stop now. I’ve never spoken to anyone so sarcastically before.
“Call it whatever the hell you want,” Devlin growls. His hand moves from the wall to the back of my neck. His fingers are calloused and hot, gripping the sensitive skin there with a possessiveness that makes my knees go weak. “But you aren’t going anywhere without me. From now on, you do exactly what I say until I find out who’s behind this.”
When I came here to find Devlin, I’d imagined all sorts of ways this conversation might end.
I’d even imagined that we might become part of some small-town detective story, that we might start our own mini-investigation, and perhaps even have a proper chat for once.
But while I was daydreaming about getting to play Veronica Mars, Devlin had managed to make things as bad as they could possibly be.
Just like always, he wants to drag me through the mud and highlight what an idiot I am.
Devlin doesn’t do normal.
He does destruction.
He wants to drag me into his world and remind me exactly how much power he has over me.
“I’m not doing anything you say. You’re lost in your own head! By the way, you practically attacked me in my dorm. So maybe I should stay the hell away from you, you half-baked… barbarian!”
“Maybe you should,” Devlin almost spits out.
Then his head drops, and his mouth crashes against the side of my neck.
A shocked, strangled sound escapes me as I tilt my head back, offering him more room. I can’t believe it—I’m giving him exactly what he wants.
