Page 20 of Envy

“Let’s go, Rose.” And he walks out. I don’t wait; I grab my bag from the floor and rush out before someone stops me.

The front door slams behind me. I look at the massive driveway and spot him getting into a shiny blacked-out car with two huge letter Rs on the hood. I move to the passenger side and hesitate to pull on the handle. The engine rumbles, and then he’s stepping out and walking around the front. He pushes me back gently, pulls the handle, and the smell of rich leather hits me like a caress.

I look up, and his face is hard. Angry. “Get in,” he demands.

I slide in, not knowing if this is what I should be doing. My mind and body battle over what is the right thing to do: leave with him or stay and face John. I don’t get to decide because Garret is placing the car in drive, pulling out of the driveway. I stare at the screen on his dash, then at his hands and the way they grip the steering wheel. The skull tattoo mocks me with its smile. I sit rigid, afraid to lean back and tarnish his car. It’sbeautiful, like him. It reminds me of an enchanting, rare black butterfly that’s poisonous if you touch it.

“Just so we’re clear,” he mutters harshly. “I’m not your brother.”

GARRET

There issomething about Rose I can’t figure out. She occupies my thoughts every waking moment, even when all I want to do is ruin her—break her into pieces so I can create the perfect version of her. But I can’t, because she is beautiful the way she is. Lies and all.

What if I ruin the look in her eyes that she reserves only for me? The tremble in her hands when I’m near her. The look that battles between lust and hate.

I sit outside her door, listening, hoping that my name slips from her lips. But it doesn’t. It’s always “stop,” followed by the sadness in her cries—cries that fill my soul.

I’m fucked up. I know I am, and it’s no secret. I’m a killer, and I enjoy pain.

I was ordered to kill her—an order given when a Prey knows too much. She’s a liability, but I can’t.

John still doesn’t know the real reason for my visit. All he knows is that the Order sent me to meet her. They know we’ve talked on campus. There are cameras, and I don’t care if they saw me come all over her hands. They’ve seen worse.

But I couldn’t help myself. I want to degrade her, show her how my hate spills from my cock for wanting her the way I do. Even if I can’t fuck her because she’ll ruin me if I did.

“Where are you taking me?” she asks in a fragile voice pulling me from my thoughts

I wish I could tell that I’m going to kill her and be done with it, but I can’t. Not yet.

I had a spot picked out near the abandoned house the consortium uses for its victims. The others don’t know the Order wants her dead. Not Valen, the twins, Reid, Azriel, Melody, Veronica, Gia, or Jess. They’re not supposed to. All they know is she’s on her own until she graduates, but what they don’t know is that they signed her death warrant.

“Wherever I want,” I say instead.

She looks away, staring at the dark-tinted window. The silence is thick with tension, unlit, waiting for the right spark. I’m not sure what I’m even doing being this close to her.

All I know is that I couldn’t leave her there with him. The way he looks at her disgusts me. It’s like the sharp end of a knife slicing my skin open.

I pull into the famous diner where all the sons of Kenyan have taken their wives. Except she isn’t going to be anyone’s wife. Ever.

“You didn’t have to offer,” she says suddenly. “I couldn’t have stayed.”

“You like the attention John gives you?” She glances at me with sadness and hate in her eyes every time his name is mentioned, and I don’t know why she doesn’t leave. Why she accepts the way he treats her for money. Why she told the biggest lie to the only people who could protect her.

And I hate her for it.

“Let’s go.” I get out, not waiting for her answer. It’s probably just another lie, and I don’t want another reason to kill her.

Walking up the steps, I turn around, waiting for her to get out of the car. I’m not chivalrous. I surprised myself when I opened her door to begin with. I wait a few seconds while shecontemplates getting out of the car. I press the unlock button on the key fob, hoping she gets the hint from the clicking sound. A few guys from Ohio State Walk up in their letterman jackets right when she steps out of the car.

The guys stop whatever they were saying, and one of them mutters, “Damn,” staring at the car. But when she straightens her faded sweater, trying to cover the sliver of skin on her small waist because it’s a size too small, outlining the generous amount of breasts underneath, I notice it’s not my Rolls Spectre they’re looking at, as I’m used to, but her.

The feeling of possessiveness when another man looks at her drives me insane when it shouldn’t. The way their greedy gaze slides over every curve, thinking of all the ways they could fuck her. The way these assholes are doing now. The way Luke did when he asked her to my party. What I had to do to Luke’s face when he said he was going to fuck her. Why I marked her with my cum and warned her not to go.

The one wearing a fucking cowboy hat steps forward and says, “Hi.” I recognize him. He’s this year’s new quarterback for Ohio State from Texas. She smiles awkwardly, and annoyance settles in the pit of my stomach. “Nice car.”

What a loser.

“It’s not mine,” she says truthfully.

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