Page 5 of Pucking Obsessed

I don’t say it, but I think it. I wish I had known her forever. Don’t get me wrong though, I’ve done enough research in the short time that I have known her to be considered a verified expert on the subject of Miss Madison Caldwell. Favorite flower? Daisies. She wears very little makeup, but her Pinterest boards are filled with eyeshadow palettes, lipstick, and that black shit my sister is always lining her eyes with. I’ve tracked down every single item she’s ever pinned.

I even found the light pink vanity with a huge light-framed mirror she has tucked away on a board she probably doesn’t even remember she made. I’m going to look into her eyes through that mirror one day with my cock seated so far inside her that she won’t know where I begin and she ends. My fingers will be knotted in that silky hair of hers. She’s going to beg me to make her come, and I’ll deliver because that’s the thing about my princess. She will always have whatever she wants.

I’m about to lean down, closing the gap between us, when the door swings open leading inside to the foyer. Madison jerks away from me as her mother comes rushing toward us, her voice high and happy as she squeals, "You’re here! I can’t wait to fill you in on everything that’s been happening!" Kirsten pushes past, not bothering to say hello. She can’t stand her new mommy dearest because they’re the exact same. They both need to be thecenter of attention, and if we don’t head back to school soon, the whole house is going to combust.

My chest tightens in frustration and I’d add Mrs. Caldwell to my ass-kicking list, but she already claimed a spot when she asked me, for the third time, how tall I am and if I’m going to play basketball. Six-four on the dot, and no, I won’t be doing that.

I wanted Madison to myself for just a second longer, but now her mother is here, pulling her away from me, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside of me.

Madison shoots me a glance as she walks past, but I can’t even get a word in before her mother wraps an arm around my girl and leads her into the house, leaving me to follow behind, mentally moving the bitch up my list.

Dinner in the grand dining room feels like a setup, a stage where Madison is the only one who doesn’t belong. I watch her, sitting stiffly next to me, her long-sleeved top and worn jeans standing out against the pristine décor. Everyone else is dressed to the nines, except for me. I changed into an old hockey hoodie and the jeans I stained up helping Callum drag a body into a ravine. I don’t want her to feel out of place, even though that seems to be her mother’s goal. While I was glad I was the one who ambushed her into coming here, she has to be feeling betrayed by the witch in the red lipstick.

I glance over at Madison, and she looks beautiful. She always does. Every second I get to see her, to watch her breathe, it feels like a gift I don’t deserve. I lean back in my chair, trying not to make it too obvious that I can’t keep my eyes off of her. Herexpression is blank, maybe a little distant, like she’s somewhere else entirely. I don’t blame her, because her mother is prattling on about the wedding plans, and I’m tuning her out too.

"Well, we’re thinking about a quick wedding," Madison’s mom says, sipping from her glass of red wine. "You know, move on from all the tragedy. It’s been enough time, don’t you think? We don’t need to dwell on the past." She glances at Madison, then back at my father. I can’t stop the snide expression I know I’m wearing right now. None of us care that they’re dead, but does she hear the words that are coming out of her mouth? Seven days to get over a brutal double homicide is some real delusional math. "I never got the big wedding I deserved with your father. But this time, it’s going to be an all out affair."

I watch Madison bite her bottom lip, the way her eyes flit nervously between her mother and the rest of us. She looks like she’s going to bolt any second, and I have the urge to reach over and clamp my hand on her thigh to hold her in place. I don’t think I can recall ever feeling panicked over anything, but I can feel it swirling in my chest. I don’t want to be separated from this girl for any reason.

“And Madison, darling,” her mother continues, almost oblivious to my girl’s discomfort, “you’re going to be my maid of honor, of course. I never got to live that dream, but now... this is my chance. I expect you to be there for me.”

Madison’s eyes widen. “I can’t miss too much work,” she says, her voice quiet, measured. She looks over at my father, clearly expecting him to understand. “I?—”

My father cuts her off, smiling politely, but there’s something condescending in the way his voice carries. “Oh, I thought Hayden explained to you that you’ll be quitting your job,” he says smoothly, as if it’s a foregone conclusion. "You won’t need it. You’ll attend Castlebrook University with Hayden and Kirsten."

I see the confusion flash across Madison’s face. She doesn’t snap, though. She’s quiet, biting her lip harder, and I know she’s holding herself back. The way she’s listening, taking everything in without pushing back. It drives me fucking wild because I know when she comes undone, it’s going to be a sight to behold.

I feel her shift beside me, her thigh brushing against mine, and I can’t help myself. My hand slips under the table, landing on her upper leg. It’s not the first time I’ve touched her, but this is different. I’m showing her, letting her feel the pressure of my touch, letting her know I’m here. This is mostly for her, but also because I fucking need this too. We’ve spent very minimal time together, but there’s a longing inside me like I…I miss her. My fingers draw slow circles against her leg, and I can feel the soft heat of her body through the fabric of her jeans. I just know every inch of her body will feel like silk in my hands.

Her breath catches slightly, and I watch her shoulders tense even more, but she doesn’t pull away. She doesn’t even say anything. Instead, her hands grip the edge of the table, her fingers shaking just enough for me to notice. My pulse races, and the heat between us is almost unbearable. I knew it the night in the woods, and it’s even more obvious now. She feels whatever this is between us just as much as I do.

It’s as if Madison tries to gather herself by taking in a deep, measured breath before she leans forward, shifting her posture to speak. "With all due respect, I’m 20 years old," she says, her voice softer than I expect, but firm. "I don’t have enough credits to transfer as a junior to Castlebrook, and I need to keep my job because?—"

Before she can finish, my father laughs, and the sound is rich and controlled. "Oh, sweetheart, don’t worry about any of that," he says, his voice as polished as his smile. "You’ll have junior status. I’ll take care of everything. And you’ll spend thenight here tonight. Head to campus tomorrow with Hayden and Kirsten. You’ll be fine."

Madison’s mouth falls open slightly in shock, but she doesn’t say anything. Her hands grip the edge of the table tighter, and I watch her face flush with disbelief.

Kirsten, oblivious to the tension, shovels a pile of mashed potatoes into her mouth, barely pausing to swallow before she speaks. "You can join the cheerleading team with me," she says, smiling like it’s the best idea in the world. "I heard Hayden telling his little friend that you cheered in high school. It’ll be fun. Loosen you up a bit."

I scowl. That little snitch just bumped herself up on the list, right above Mrs. Caldwell. The thought of Madison cheering for the football team is making my blood boil before it’s even happened. "How did he—" Madison starts, but Kirsten cuts her off, waving a hand dismissively.

"It’s totally fine if you’re a little rusty, I’ll vouch for you," Kirsten says, her voice sickeningly sweet. Like she didn’t throw a temper tantrum when she found out about the wedding and Madsion coming to Castlebrook. Madison’s smile is soft, polite, like she’s trying to avoid being rude, but it doesn’t touch her eyes.

“Um, okay,” Madison says, her voice quiet again. "I don’t mean to be a Debbie Downer, but I can’t pay for all of this and I?—"

My father tsks, leaning back in his chair, the gesture full of wealth and entitlement. "I know you were responsible for a lot financially before," he says, cutting her off, "but things are different now. No need to thank me. Just enjoy."

I watch Madison’s face flush, her skin going a shade darker as she presses her lips together. I can’t tell if it’s anger or embarrassment. Maybe it’s both. But I’m fucking angry too. She shouldn’t have had to struggle. She shouldn’t have had to worrythat if she didn’t have enough shifts at work, they’d get evicted. She’ll never want for anything again. I feel her tense beside me, and I can’t stand it. I want to be the one to protect her, to make everything right for her.

MADISON

Ican’t stand the way my skin feels tight, like it’s too small for my body, as I sit here listening to this absolute horseshit. Everything here is suffocating. The crystal chandeliers. The expensive scent of polished wood and old money. The way Mr. Lockwood keeps his arm possessively around my mother, smiling like the world is his. I watch her cling to him, her fingers wrapped around his bicep like she’s been his wife for decades and helped him build this life. She holds a glass of wine in her other hand, laughing at something he said. She's lapping up his attention, but I can’t help but feel the pit in my stomach grow deeper.

She’s latching onto him to use him. She’s always been this way, for as long as I can remember anyway. I’ve seen her desperation to escape poverty, to be free from the life she and my father built. That need never outweighed the fact that she does not want to work. I naively thought my father’s death would finally free us, but instead, it feels like I’ve been pushed into another trap. This time there’s just a bigger, more glittering cage.

I glance at Mr. Lockwood. He appears to be so...perfect. The kind of man who gets what he wants. But something about him,something cold behind those sharp eyes, makes my skin crawl. Why would he want to marry my mother? What does he get out of it? The whole situation smells wrong, like I’m missing a crucial part of the equation.

Nothing in life is ever free, so his offer to pay for my tuition at Castlebrook, feels like there has to be a catch. I hate that I’m tempted by it. I truly don’t want his help, and I certainly don’t want to owe him anything.

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