Page 27 of Volatile Obsessions

She bound right up to me, offered me the Corona, and legitimately slithered her way into Vic’s grasp again.

Except her presence didn’t distract him the way I was banking on.

“Then what’s the problem?” he pressed, grazing his fingertips along her figure. “And don’t tell me nothing, because I know you, Rome, and I know there’s something going on that you haven’t fessed up about.”

Kinda like you, asshole?

I took a sip from the fresh, ice cold bottle to mask my irritation. “It’s nothing, Vic. Just know that me helping you puts me at risk.”

“Why?” Willow asked, totally rapt in our conversation.

I stared at her for a moment in confusion, then watched Vic’s face morph from curious to slightly irate. Very slowly, he turned his head toward her and waited for her attention. When she remained oblivious, he rushed a hand into her enflamed locks and reeled her back close enough for his lips to scrape against her ear.

“Don’t speak unless you’re spoken to, sweetheart,” he growled viciously. “Understood?”

“Y-yes,” she whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut as he tugged on her hair harder.

“Fantastic. Now run along and play with your little friends while you can. We’ll be docking shortly.”

He all but shoved her onto her feet and slapped her ass, not the least bit concerned she was gaping at him in both horror and betrayal. Idly, I wondered if this were the first time he lashed out at her like this.

Either way, he was one stupid motherfucker. Willow looked damn good.

“Why help me then?” he asked, as soon as she was out of earshot.

I shook my head and took another generous sip, pondering what had happened in the last few years for Vic to change so much. “Because you needed it,” I answered.

“Anddd,” he drawled, waving a hand for me to continue.

“And because Lux sounds a lot like…”

I stopped myself right there, quickly realizing I’d said too much. I wasn’t ready to get into this with him, but of course, he already seemed to know. I hated how well he still knew me when I recognized so little about him.

“Oh, I know,” he agreed, a little chuckle bouncing off the end, completely unsurprised. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they’re related. Diabolical little bitches.”

“Amen,” I agreed, for the sake of letting it go, taking yet another sip as Cardi’s “I Like It” began blaring through the speakers.

“She’s losing her mind trying to figure out who you are, by the way.” He laughed.

“So why not just tell her?” I asked, to which his head reared back in slight disgust.

“How is that even a question right now?”

“How do you expect her to retaliate if she doesn’t know where to find me?”

“I plan to tell her, trust me. Just not yet. If I come back with answers too soon, she’ll question it.”

“Will she really, though?” My query sounded as skeptical as you’re imagining. “If she’s losing it like you claim, she’ll be pleased you have, at the very least, one answer for her. One little clue will get this moving even quicker.”

Vic shook his head definitively. “Not yet. I want to make her wait, want her to suffer, need her to beg on her fucking knees in desperation. Then I’ll tell her.”

On one hand, I understood where he was coming from. Revenge made people do the most daft shit sometimes. Wearing her down to the last thread was part of the appeal, something I’d once been hellbent on doing to Liza.

Correction, something I did do to Liza.

But on the other hand, I didn’t understand why he’d want to drag this out.

Okay, wait—I’m lying out of my ass. Vic loved himself a lengthy drama, loved the spotlight on him.

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