Page 51 of Hunted Obsession

She lifts her head, her eyes finding mine, and she holds her fake watery gaze with mine. I watch her for a moment, knowing that she’s a manipulative bitch, but at the same time, I don’t have a fucking choice about it.

“I just want her to leave us alone.”

I almost laugh at her, but I don’t. “She will, won’t you, Lucille?” I ask, lifting my gaze to meet hers.

“Oh, without a doubt,” Lucille lies.

Guiding Emmie out of the apartment, I try to keep things as calm as possible, but once we are outside, I take a step back fromher and look down my nose and into her wide eyes. She blinks a few times, trying to get those fake tears to fall, but she fails.

“Never again, Emmie.”

“What?” she asks, feigning innocence.

I watch as she places her hand in the middle of my chest., I wrap my fingers around her wrist and hold her there. I know she’s full of shit, but I can’t call her on it. Not yet. I will, just not fucking yet.

“Don’t do anything like this again. You want to do something like this, you run that shit by me first.”

She snorts. “You’re joking. She’s been stalking me. You’re acting like it’s my fault.”

Sinking my teeth into the corner of my bottom lip, I shake my head as I lift my hand and wrap my fingers around the side of her throat. Fuck me, I would rather be touching Lucille right now. My stomach clenches the moment my skin comes into contact with hers.

“I’m not joking, Emmie. If Lucille was really stalking you, she might be dangerous.”

“You don’t think she is?” She arches a brow.

My lips twitch into a smirk, not just because I know that she is, but also because I don’t give a fuck. Lucille would send Emmie into the fucking ground. I would be a little worried about her, to be honest. I don’t hate Emmie. I know she’s involved in whatever this shit is with her father, but at the same time, I still feel somewhat protective over her.

I will always protect Lucille over anyone else, though.

Lucille is fucking everything to me. She always has been.

“How do you know her?” Emmie demands.

I think about telling Emmie the truth, but I don’t respect her enough, to be honest. So I lie. “I don’t. Which is what makes her so fucking dangerous.” The lie rolls off my tongue easily enough.

“I’ll end her,” Emmie snarls.

“You won’t do shit,” I snap. “If you see her again, let me know. But this is done.”

Emmie lets out a heavy sigh, then rolls her eyes to the ceiling before her gaze finds mine again. “Okay,” she exhales.

Leaning forward, I touch my mouth to hers. “Let’s get out of here.”

I hate myself for taking Emmie home when all I want to do is leave her in this fucking hallway and go back into Lucille’s apartment. This is bigger than me. As much as I want to be selfish and do what I want, in this case, I cannot.

Chapter Twenty-Three

LUCILLE

That bitch.

That absolute cunt.

Tears fill my eyes as soon as the apartment door closes behind Emmie and Theron. I hate myself the moment it does. I hate Emmie even more. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and she’s getting what she wants. Why? Because he knows she’s full of shit, he knows that she’s manipulative. Yet he’s backing her. Why? There is a reason. I’m under no illusion that there isn’t. I just want to know what that reason is, and Theron won’t tell me.

But fuck Emmie Grant.

Fuck her.

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