Page 65 of Pucking Obsessed

Madison raises an eyebrow, her lips quirking. I try to distract her, leaning down and cupping her waist in both of my hands. “Do you want me to get revenge for Skippy touching you, or do you want to hear a really boring story about after the wedding?” I ask, aiming for cute, hoping she’ll let it go.

Madison doesn’t let anything go. She leans up, her lips brushing mine in a kiss that robs me of breath. “Tell me,” she murmurs, her voice so sweet that I’m already tempted to say yes to anything she wants.

I sigh, my hand moving to the back of her neck, my fingers trailing over the tiny spot where the tracker is embedded. “You’ve got a tracker in your neck,” I admit, my voice steady even though I’m bracing for her reaction. “So does Winter.”

Her expression doesn’t change, so I keep going, swallowing the lump forming in my throat. “I’m not sorry. It saved you, and even if you’re mad at me, I’d do it a hundred more times. I’m never losing you.” My hands shift to cradle her face, my thumbs brushing over her cheeks as I look her straight in the eye. “Never. Do you hear me, Madison?”

I expect her to push me away, to accuse me of crossing a line. But her expression softens, her body leaning into mine as she presses her lips to mine again, a little firmer this time. When she pulls away, she only nods, telling me silently that she understands why I did what I did.

“I knew you’d fight me on it,” I admit. “And with everything going on, it wasn’t something I was willing to take a chance on?—”

Madison cuts me off, her lips brushing against mine again. Her breath mingles with mine, and when she pulls back, her voice is calm. “I trust you. I’m not mad. I love you.” I blink at her, surprised at her response. “Hurry back to me, handsome,”she says, and the way her voice lowers, I know exactly what she means. Hurry home to bury my cock inside of her.

She walks past me, peeling off her top and then her leggings, her long blonde hair falling loose over her bare back. She glances over her shoulder, her eyes catching mine, and then she disappears into the bathroom like she didn’t just flip my entire world upside down.

She’s not mad about the tracker, I’m sure of that much. Getting me worked up and sending me off to fuck Skippy up instead of soapy shower sex with her is definitely Madison’s revenge because I didn’t tell her about it.

“Fuck,” I groan, scrubbing a hand down my face before turning and heading for the door.

That’s my girl.

HAYDEN

All the damn money Callum has and he still drives this old truck that sounds like it has a sawed off muffler and one working wheel bearing. I silently remind myself not to invite him or his truck to the next murder I commit. Tristan would have lost his shit as soon as he cranked this thing on.

As we pull up to the cliffs, the entire campus can probably hear us and think a UFO is landing. Scott is already here, leaning against his car, probably thinking he’s about to meet Kirsten. His smug little smirk falters the second he sees us step out of the truck.

“What are you doing here?” he snaps, his voice shaky. This motherfucker knows what’s coming.

Callum chuckles, dragging the moment out like he’s savoring the panicked look in Skippy’s eyes. “I guess you were hoping to fuck your little psycho girlfriend, hmm?”

Scott’s face goes pale, and I step forward, locking eyes with him. It’s satisfying, the way his eyes widen, the fear creeping in. “Look. It wasn’t that serious,” he stammers, his voice cracking. “Kirsten said it was supposed to be a prank and?—”

“And you scared Madison, didn’t you?” Every step I take toward him has him backing up like the coward he is.

There’s a clink behind me, and I glance over to see Callum rummaging through the back of his truck, pulling out a chain and a hockey stick. He tosses the stick to me with a smirk. “Thought you might want this,” he says casually, like we’re gearing up for practice instead of what’s about to go down.

Scott’s hands go up defensively. “What are you going to do? My mother will?—”

“Shut the fuck up.” His mouth snaps closed, but Callum isn’t done with him yet. “Your mommy isn’t going to do shit when she finds out her baby boy killed an innocent girl because she wouldn’t fuck him,” Callum says, his tone jovial, like he’s enjoying every second of this.

“That isn’t why! Bethany was—” Scott starts, but I’m done listening to his bullshit.

“I don’t give a fuck about Bethany.” The words come out in a growl, my grip tightening on the stick in my hand. I take another step closer, forcing him to meet my eyes. “You scared Madison. You had her thinking she was going to be raped and killed in the woods, didn’t you?” My voice rises because all I can picture is how terrified she was that night. “There’s no coming back from that. You hurt her in any capacity, and I end you. Those are the fucking rules.”

Scott stumbles back, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, but no words come out.

There’s no redemption for him.

Callum strolls toward Scott, casual as hell, like he’s just out for a midnight walk. Scott scrambles backward, his eyes darting around like he’s looking for a way out. He’s not going to find one. Callum’s grin is downright predatory as he keeps closing the distance, and Scott’s back hits a tree with a dull thud.

“Get the fuck away from me!” Scott yells, his voice pitching higher with every word.

Callum tilts his head, mockingly parroting back, “Get the fuck away from me,” with an exaggerated whine that makes me snort. His face shifts into something darkly playful as he adds, “No,” in a goofy sing-song tone, and then swings the thick chain he’s holding. It cracks across Scott’s face with a sharp, metallic whack, and Scott stumbles, clutching his cheek and spitting blood.

Callum doesn’t waste a second. He’s on him, wrapping the chain around Scott’s chest and arms, pulling it tight, and tying him to the tree like he’s done it a hundred times before. He steps back, admiring his handiwork, then grins over his shoulder at me. “Almost makes me miss home.”

I don’t reply, I just watch as Callum reaches into the pocket of his hoodie and pulls out a puck, tossing it to me. I catch it easily, and then turn my attention back to Scott.

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