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Bossy dickhead.
I lock my belt and he drives off toward campus.
I pout, crossing my arms over my middle, and glaring at him, stewing in annoyance.
But at the back of my mind, I can’t deny one perpetually shocking truth: no matter what Marius Goltz does to me, I am not afraid.
25
MARIUS
She doesn’t lighten up during the journey, tense like she’s expecting me to pounce on her without notice. And I can’t exactly blame her, given our history.
I just wanted to give her a lift, dammit. She needs a car. And a bodyguard. And a keeper.
I can help with some of those. Hell, I could help with all of those.
I pull up in front of the Hunt house, and she tries the door before I kill the engine. Insolent little thing.It’s locked, of course. Her eyes widen, searching mine, with no small degree of panic.
“It’ll unlock when we stop,” I tell her, my tone reassuring. “Try it again.”
She does so; the relief in her exhale simultaneously amuses me and pisses me off. I can’t lie to myself; I quite like her anxiety. But it annoys me all the same because I know its cause.
She’s been abused—actually abused, not played with. That shit doesn’t fly with me. It makes me want to hurt someone. Badly. Set fires. Burn shallow graves.
Tell me, your highness. What did he do to you?
She wouldn’t if I asked, and my PI hasn’t been able to unearth what happened behind closed doors. I need to know, so I can decide what punishment Brandon and the rest of his family deserve.
She unfastens her belt, no doubt planning to jump out as fast as possible, and I should let her.
“I met Brandon.”
She freezes, those big eyes flying to me. “What have you done?”
“Nothing much,” I say lightly.“Yet.”
I will. His car is the least of the damage I plan on inflicting upon that lowlife. I only backed off to let the blackmail chip play out, and see if he was behind it.
“But there’s a high chance he didn’t post the videos. He’s not the one cashing in on the shit you filmed,” I tell her, my eyes analyzing the slightest change in her expression.
She’s either an actress worthy of an Oscar or she’s shocked. I’m not dismissing the first option yet.
“Wanna tell me who else could have bugged your room and your clothes?”
Who else is obsessed with her?
Not that I blame them. I’m getting close to obsessed myself.
“I…no, that’s not possible.”She shakes her head in denial. “It has to be Brandon.”
I study her.What kind of a liar are you, Sarah?Either she’s outright lying or lying by omission. There’s no other option.
“He’s too dumb to have pulled it off without us catching him,” I say.“Whoever’s behind it has serious hacking skills. He doesn’t.”
I’m surprised to see her wilt, and nod in agreement.
“Yeah, he was never the brightest bulb, was he?” She chews on her lip. “I swear, I can’t think of anyone else. It’s his MO. And I can’t think about anyone else—”
