Page 29 of Look What You Made Me Do

I take a step back, bumping up against his nightstand as I mumble a half-hearted apology about being in his room. All I wanted was my purse, so I could get the fuck out of here and go home. But he doesn’t respond to my apology. He doesn’t stop advancing. His blue eyes are locked on me like a predator sizing up his prey.

And he has me cornered. In his bedroom. Alone.

“W-where’s Kai?” I’m somehow brave enough to ask. I’m not Kai’s biggest fan right now, but given the amount of blood on Lucas’ hands, I’m afraid Kai might be in for another hospital stay, or worse. I know the Sacred Sons have killed people.

“You don’t need to worry about Kai,” he responds flatly.

My gaze falls to his bloody hands. “Why did you take him down to the basement?”

We all know what happens down there. The basement is where shit gets real for anyone dumb enough to make a move against the Sacred Sons. The tortured screams that rise from the bowels of this house are legendary. I’ve heard them. And when the anguished sounds echo through the halls on the ground floor, it’s terrifying.

Lucas’ eyes are normally stunning ocean blue, but right now they’re darkened by hatred. For me. And I don’t even know why.

“Kai touched you,” he says evenly. “And now he knows what a mistake that was.”

This is insane. I lift my hands. “Why does it matter who touches me, Lucas?”

I’ve tried asking him this before, and he never really gives me an answer. Fuck, maybe he will this time.

“Gabriel has only been gonetwo fucking months.”

I summon every ounce of bravery I have and look him dead in the eye. “Isn’t that a bit hypocritical? Saving me for your dead cousin, but finger fucking me in the bathroom?”

I shouldn’t talk to him like this, not after he just beat the shit out of someone. The blood on his hands should remind me what he’s capable of. But I’m so fucking tired of his vague answers and convoluted rationale.

He reaches out so fast I don’t even see it coming, and I yelp when he grabs my elbow and pulls me roughly against his hard body. I can smell the blood on his hands. “Say it again, Wyn. Call me a fucking hypocrite.”

I swallow back the fear that rises like bile in my throat. I don’t want him to see me afraid, so I lift my chin and steady my voice. “Isn’t that what you are?” I say. “You call me a whore, and then you make me one.”

He releases me abruptly and steps back like he’s just touched a live wire. There’s an unreadable look in his eyes, but if I had to guess, I’d say I hit a nerve.

“I’m not doing this with you, Wyn.” He pulls his shirt off and shakes his head, exposing his tanned, muscled torso. Then he steps up to me and grabs my face, pulling it up, so I’m looking directly into his cruel eyes. “Let any of these guys touch you again…” he growls. “...and you’ll be sorry, Wyn. No more warnings.”

“Even if that guy is you?” I snap back.

“Especiallyif it’s me,” he says, pushing me, so I stumble back. Then he walks into the bathroom and slams the door behind him.

Back at my apartment, I park in front and make a beeline for my door. In my mind, I’m running through every detail of what just happened with Lucas, and I’m so distracted that I’m on autopilot. It’s not until I step inside and turn my light on that I remember I should be on alert.

My muscles tense up as I scan my small apartment, looking for anything that could be out of place. There’s nothing on my bed, and the bathroom door is open, exactly the way I left it. At first glance, everything looks fine, and I release the breath that was caught in my lungs.

Maybe all of my new security measures actually worked. Tell me why, then, as I start getting ready for bed, a sense of disappointment washes over me. It’s not like I was looking forward to my stalker showing up, but now that I know he hasn’t been here, I feel his absence.

Ugh,I’m so fucked in the head.

First thing in the morning, I’m looking up psychologists in the area. For real. I’m a pretty open-minded person, but even I know these thoughts about my stalker aren’t healthy or normal.

It’s warm tonight, so I put on a fresh pair of panties, and one of Gabriel’s old T-shirts, then brush my teeth, and crawl into bed. I grab my phone, so I can mindlessly scroll through social media until I get sleepy.

But every single time my mind wanders, I see Lucas’ gaze locked on me. What the fuck is going on with him? There’s an undeniable energy between us, and I get the sense that he wants me, but hates himself for it.

How is that any of that my fault, though? Why is he punishingme?

Fucking psycho.

Turning my fan on high, I use an app to switch off my overhead light, then plug my phone in and place it on the nightstand. Closing my eyes, I try to relax, so I can get some sleep. Tomorrow is a busy day at school.

But thanks to Lucas, I’m all hot and bothered now. The blood on his hands, that frightening look in his eyes. He looked like a Viking fresh off the battlefield, and thinking about Lucas standing there like that, ready to either kill me or fuck me, makes my clit pulse.

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