Page 34 of Pucking Obsessed

“Callum, it’s not funny,” Kirsten’s voice is trembling. If I didn’t know what she’s been through tonight I would think she was shaking in anger.

Callum grins. “I know places up in the mountains where no one would ever find them.” Hayden clears his throat, but Callum doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, his grin widens as he adds, “That’s where we took the guys he killed at the truck stop.”

My breath catches, I look up at Hayden, searching his face for a reaction.

His jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing just slightly, and I can’t tell if he’s irritated with Callum for saying it or what’s going through his mind.

He starts to answer, but before he can, Kirsten’s voice cuts through.

“We get it,” she snaps, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Madison is special. Can we just figure out what we’re doing so we can get back to campus?”

I glance at her, standing a few feet away with her arms crossed, her face twisted into a scowl.

“Shut up, Kirsten.” Callum laughs before looking at me. “You’re just mad no one’s ever asked Tristan and me to dump the bodies of dudes they killed for you,” Callum says, his grin unrepentant. I don’t ask any questions, but since I’ve gotten to know these three, I don’t doubt anything he’s just blurted out.

Tristan rolls his eyes, his voice conveying nothing except annoyance when he says, “Maybe you should get a megaphone and say it a little louder.”

I change the subject because I’m really not in the mood to watch Tristan and Callum punch each other in the head. “What about the guy who ran off?” I ask, my voice quieter than I intended, and I realize how lethargic I actually feel.

Hayden’s arm tightens around me, his grip firm and I can feel how tense he is.

“He can’t snitch on us without snitching on himself, so that gives us some time to find him,” Callum says.

I nod, swallowing hard, but the unease in my stomach doesn’t fade.

Across from me, Winter catches my eye.

“You okay?” she mouths, her lips barely moving.

I give her a small smile, nodding before mouthing the words back to her. “You?”

She nods in return, her expression weary but calm as she leans her head against Tristan’s chest. She looks as exhausted as I feel.

Hayden and Callum are discussing the possibilities of why Dawson and Kyle would have been in on what happened tonight or our parents for that matter. None of it really makes sense, but to be honest, I don’t have the bandwidth to try and figure it out. I hear Tristan saying something in a deep, low tone to Winter in Russian. I have no clue what any of the words mean, but it sounds to me like he’s trying to soothe her worries.

Would he have snapped Winter’s neck, if it meant keeping her out of another man’s hands? As I watch him, his jaw tight and his hold on her protective, I decide that he most definitely would have.

In between calling Callum an idiot for his murder clean up suggestions, Hayden drops a kiss to the top of my head, his lips lingering for a moment, and I decide not to point out that if it hadn’t been for Callum, we’d probably still be held at gunpoint.

Hayden moves quickly, pulling me to stand behind him when a low, garbled sound startles us.

Kyle.

He’s mumbling something, his swollen face barely recognizable as his lips move sluggishly.

The only word that comes through clearly is, “Kirsten.” Kirsten freezes, her entire body stiffening as her wide, tear-filled eyes snap to him.

“Leave me alone!” she screams, her voice shrill and panicked like she’s terrified of him. Before anyone can stop her, she lunges forward, snatching Kyle’s own gun from the ground.

The next moments are a blur. The sound of the gun going off, Kyle’s gurgling gasps, and Kirsten’s furious cries. Blood splatters across her hands, her arms, her face, and Kyle’s body jerks with each shot until he goes still.

Callum grabs her, yanking her away from Kyle’s lifeless body. Kirsten thrashes in Callum’s grip, her breathing ragged and uneven.

Hayden snaps at his sister, “Calm the fuck down.” Her sobs turn into hiccups, her body sagging against Callum as the fight drains out of her.

“Go get your friend,” Callum says, tipping his head toward Bethany, who’s still crumpled on the ground, her sobs now quiet whimpers.

Kirsten glares at him, her lips pulling into a sneer. “Fuck you, Callum!” she screams. Callum smirks, the corner of his mouth pulling up in that infuriatingly cocky way of his.

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