Page 41 of Hunted Obsession

In fact, they can watch and be jealous as hell while they do because this woman is and will always be mine. I don’t know how much longer I can go without fully claiming her for myself.

“Theron,” Emmie’s shrill voice calls out.

I can feel my shoulders drop at the sound of her voice. I don’t want to be around her, nowhere near her. But this isn’t about what I want. If it were, shit would be playing out much differently tonight.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” I murmur, turning my head before I brush my lips across her cheek.

Leaving the two of them together, which is probably the wrong thing to do, I make my way to the back of the club. I pretend I’m going to the john. Once I’m in the hallway, I walk right past the bathroom and head toward the end.

I’m hoping it’s quiet enough that Hale can hear me down at the base office. “I’m not sure if we should do anything tonight,” I rasp. “I think there are bigger players coming. And I think that Asher wants me in on this shit.”

It makes me feel physically ill that Asher believes I could want to be any part of what he’s doing. That I could be any part of Ravet and that I could have any part whatsoever of the way he hurts boys.

I’m pretty sure anyone who is remotely involved with Asher Grant is dirty that way, so I have no doubt that since I’m supposedly dating his daughter, I am one of them, too. Or at least, he thinks I am.

That makes me feel like fucking shit.

Never would I want someone to think that I could do the things those motherfuckers did to us. I want to gut them all, then sew them back together, and do it all over again—every single one of them.

“I think he does, too, the bastard,” Hale whispers in my ear. “We’re not making any moves tonight. We’re watching.”

I fucking hate this shit. I open my mouth to tell him that Lucille is here, but I’m interrupted with a hand on my shoulder. I spin around, and my gaze connects with Emmie’s brother, Charlie.

He smirks, jerking his chin toward me. “What’re you doing?” he asks.

Shaking my head, I clear my throat and rock back on my heels. I start to answer him, but I have no clue what I’m going to say. Because I’m not doing anything that I can tell him about. So, I lie. Of course, I lie because lying has been all I’m capable of all night.

“Went to the john and then was checking my emails and shit. I’m good now. Nothing important.”

I clap my fingers down on his shoulder, gripping it before I give him a gentle shake. Together, we walk back to the VIP area. It’s the last place I want to be right now, but at the same time, I can’t leave Lucille alone.

Fucking Lucille.

I could choke her… while I fuck her, I could choke her.

LUCILLE

Charlie Grant is a fucking asshole.

He won’t leave me alone, he’s drunk as shit, and I don’t want anything to do with him. Even if Theron weren’t here, I wouldnot be attracted to this man. No matter how hot he thinks he is. I find him disgusting. Emmie isn’t any better. Half of the time, she acts like a child. The other half, she’s trying to be overly sexy.

I really don’t understand what Theron sees in her. As the night wanes on, I continue to wonder just what the fuck I’m doing here. Clearly, I’m not doing as much destruction as I had planned.

Emmie is basically ignoring me now as she dances all over Theron, and I’m stuck with Charlie slobbering all over me. Theron seems about as pleased as me right now, which is my only consolation.

But when Asher Grant makes his way over to Theron, I watch out of the corner of my eye. I’m unable to take my eyes off them. Asher lifts his hand, clapping Theron on the shoulder. He shakes him once as he leans forward and murmurs something to him.

Then the Victor guy, who has not said a single word or moved from his chair the entire evening, stands. I can’t look away. I’m watching with rabid anticipation, wondering what the hell is going on. That guy hasn’t even blinked tonight, and now he’s suddenly standing.

When Asher takes a step backward, I watch as he turns to face Victor. Then the weirdest thing happens: Asher and Theron follow behind Victor.

What the hell?

Charlie uses the fact that I’m distracted for a moment to wrap his arm around my waist. I want to push him away, but I don’t think he would appreciate that, especially in a semi-public place. So, instead, I turn away from him and step out of his arms.

“I’ll be right back. I have to go to the restroom,” I say as I begin to move toward the bathroom, which incidentally is in the same direction that Theron went.

Once I make it through the club crowd and down the hall a step, I look around the doorway to make sure that Charlie isn’tfollowing me. I let out a sigh of relief to see that he’s dancing with Emmie, and then I wince because they’re really close together, and it looks kind of gross.

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