Page 38 of Oblivion

I know her memories of those few hours we spent together are vague, but I remember the feel of her body as I pushed my fingers into her, fucking her with them until she came on a cry. I remember the way my heart stopped when she sunk to her knees at my feet and took my cock in her mouth. I remember wanting to tell her she was mine and that I’d never let her go. I remember her telling me to come on her tits, and I remember not being able to resist the urge to mark her neck and face too.

Then I remember taking that picture of her, so debauched, so dirty and utterly mine. The next morning, when I was sober and alone, I knew I should delete the picture, but I just couldn’t. Those hours together might have hurt her, but they were perfect to me. A perfect snapshot of how my life could be if I wasn’t a fucking monster.

I’m still that monster, only now I’m going to claim her anyway, and hope somehow, she can still find a way to love me.

I fight the urge to pull up the picture I’ve looked at thousands of times and instead focus on Drew. His brows get more and more furrowed as he looks at the pictures I sent him. But I know the moment he sees it. The moment he sees her, branded with my cum. His hand comes up to cover his mouth, and his eyes harden.

This is it. This is the moment it’s all over, the moment I’ve ruined any chance of them ever being together. Without him saying a word, he just picked his future career over a girl he says he loves, and in this moment, I know that even if she hates me for it, I just did her a favor.

My wild one needs someone who will do anything to keep her. Who will follow her to the ends of the world and drown her in love, andDrewisn’t that person. At the first hurdle he’s proved that he doesn’t give a fuck.

When his cell starts to ring, I watch as he purses his lips, collects his belongings, and strides out of the building,answering the call as he pushes through the exit door. The guard follows him, but I log out of the camera footage because Drew isn’t important anymore.

The guard following Drew keeps me informed of his whereabouts for the rest of the day. Drew’s dad and two members of his PR team fly to Massachusetts, and they have a political pow-wow at a hotel. Even though I can’t hear what they’re discussing, I’m pretty sure I know exactly how that conversation is going to go.

Sammy isn’t an appropriate wife for a future senator. The engagement—which thankfully hasn’t been officially announced yet—will be called off, and any and all association with Sammy and the Hartley family will end.

Oddly, the constant nagging guilt I usually feel whenever I’d doing something fucked up is absent, probably because, even though doing this to Sammy is wrong, it’s still the best thing for her, and eventually she’ll see that.

It’s early evening when Drew leaves the hotel and calls Sammy. I listen to the call through my link with Sammy’s cell and hear Drew ask her to meet him in a public park not far from the house she’ll be moving out of tonight.

I could allow Sammy’s guards to monitor the situation and watch through the cameras, but instead, I find myself pulling on a jacket and trailing after her as she drives her car to the park and then sits down on a bench, waiting for Drew to arrive.

He’s punctual as I expected, and I wait, hidden a few yards away, and listen.

19

SAMMY

My stomach is a knot of anxiety as I sit down on the bench in the small park Drew asked me to meet him at. I’ve spent the entire day practicing what I’m going to say to him, but now that I’m here and waiting for him, everything I planned to say sounds crazy.

How do I start to explain that the friends I made in California are both rich, influential, and crazy, and that one of them wants me to break off my engagement or he’s threatening to ruin Drew’s future? It sounds ridiculous even to me, and I’ve lived through the insanity three times now.

Twisting my hands together in my lap, I watch as Drew rounds the corner and strides over to me, pausing in front of me, his expression stony and almost unrecognizable.

“Hey,” I say, standing up and taking a step toward him.

Immediately stepping back, his dark eyes lift to mine, and I see it. Somehow, despite Evan telling me I had until Friday, Drew already knows.

“Samantha,” Drew starts.

“I need to explain,” I rush out.

Lifting his hand, he silences me, then sucks in a deep breath. “Today, I received some information about your timein California that has made me look more clearly at our relationship.”

“What information?” I question.

“Photos of you at parties, drunk, wearing…inappropriate clothing. Behaving in an unladylike way and also in a sexually compromising position.”

“What?” I ask, my brow furrowing in confusion.

“I’d rather not go into the details, but it has made me reconsider our engagement.”

“Drew,” I start.

“As a future public figure, my behavior and that of anyone I associate myself with has to be beyond question. I understand that college is a time when people experiment and explore themselves, but unfortunately, I cannot be both someone who upholds the highest moral standards and be involved with someone who has exposed themselves to alcohol, debauchery, and casual sexual encounters.”

“Are you serious?” I question.

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