Page 26 of Wicked Court

His voice is muffled, yet the lash of his tone could crack the very barrier that quiets him.

I cover my mouth to stifle the scream of frustration ripping from my throat, my tears coating my hand.

Any mention of Maverick is upsetting, but to use his death as a weapon, to demand ownership over me as payment for getting his killer’s name…

Wilder rounds the car, his fist bashes against the driver’s side window. “Elara.”

I crack the window just enough to hear him better, my engine idling, the heat from my car billowing in the chilled air around him.

He doesn’t hesitate. “Why are you crying? What did Cav say to you back there?”

“Just—get out of the way. So I can leave.”

“Answer my question or I’ll get on my bike and run you off the road until I have your red tin can wrapped around a tree.”

I glare, but my defiance gets me nowhere.

He lifts his foot, ready to kick the driver’s side door in a rage.

“I—I hate you,” I mumble through my quivering lip, my heart threatening to jump into my throat.

Wilder grins and lowers his leg. “You hate everyone who doesn’t worship the ground you walk on.”

I shake my head but don’t bother explaining that being friendly and involved in university activities doesn’t make me expect worship. Besides, Wilder and his kind don’t understand my world—they think violence equals respect.

My pounding pulse stutters at the thought. Wilder may threaten violence against me, but I’m convinced he wouldn’t let others do the same, not even Cav. At least, not without punishment.

Because the obsession is clear in his eyes.

I swallow. “Cav said you would help solve Maverick’s murder—for a price.”

Wilder nodded along as if this wasn’t news until I mentioned an ultimatum. His chin lowers, his brows shading his eyes.

Though he doesn’t cover the calculation in his tone. “What do you mean, a price?”

“That I have to accept your ownership over me.”

Wilder’s stunned enough not to have an immediate response, but I notice anger streaking over his russet eyes before he blinks it away.

I fill the silence. “What does that even mean? What would you own, for God’s sake? I’m a person, not a?—”

“It’s very simple, actually.”

The more opportunity Wilder gets to think about it, the more his lips stretch wide.

Oh God. I shouldn’t have cracked my window open even a little for this man.

“We own your body, you obey our orders, and if you’re a good girl, you get a reward.”

At each of his points, my jaw drops a little lower.

“Does that about clear it up, sweetwitch?”

My answer is to rev my engine and peel away, hoping I’ve spat up enough gravel to permanently blind him.

Chapter 11

Elara

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