Page 41 of Oblivion

Snickering silently to myself, I watch as he slips his cell from his coat pocket and quickly types my name into the search bar. I see the exact moment when he realizes who I am, and then watch as he clicks into the pictures of Starling and Sebastian’s wedding and sees the seven of us together.

That picture doesn’t normally come up when you search for me, but I had Clay arrange for it to be there just so Drew could see how connected to us Sammy is. The picture is one of my favorites of us all. It’s a shame that Bunny isn’t in it, but she and Hunter didn’t actually meet until the day of the wedding.

Sebastian and the rest of us are all in matching suits. Starling is in her wedding gown, and Sammy and January are in matching champagne-colored gowns. In the picture, she’s between Hunter and me, her eyes bright, her smile happy and wide. She looks nothing like the girl who just walked away. In the picture, she’s vivacious, beautiful, and free.

“I don’t understand,” Drew says, more to himself than me. “She never mentioned any of you, except for Starling.”

“That doesn’t matter now. I need you to assure me that you understand what I’ll do to you if you ever try to see her or speak to her again.”

“I don’t…” he stumbles over his words.

“Do you need me to show you how easily I can destroy your life? It’ll only take one phone call to have you kicked out of Harvard.” I click my fingers for dramatic effect.

“My parents are friends with half the members of the admissions board,” he scoffs.

“That’s great, but my dad and I used to spend winter break skiing in Aspen with the dean and his family.” I smirk. “Roger owes me a favor or two. I doubt he’d care if I called in a marker to get you expelled.”

I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. “Our families are friends. I can’t cut her out of my life.”

“I’m flying from here to speak to her family. I’m sure you can figure something out to ensure that you’re never in the same room as her again. After all, you understand the consequences if you can’t.”

Not bothering to wait around to hear his response, I pull the ring he gave my girl from my pocket and flick it at him, then I turn and walk away, not glancing back. He’s irrelevant now.

Jumping in my rental car that’s parked beside the Tesla he gifted her, I drive straight to the airport, climbing the stairs and into my plane, just as Sebastian’s jet taxis down the runway, taking my wild one home.

Nodding to the stewardess, I take a seat in the middle of the cabin and tap the screen of my cell, checking the tracking app and ensuring that Sammy is on the plane where she’s supposed to be.

I already know she is, and one of her security team is even on the plane with her, but I still check, just for my own peace of mind. Once I’ve assured myself that she’s actually on her way home, I relax, exhaling a breath as I hear the doors being shut and feel the plane start to move.

I use the flight to her parents’ place to try to decide what to say to them. Out and out lying to them feels like a mistake, but so does telling them the complete truth, so I decide that falling somewhere in the middle, offering them some truths while also telling them what they need to hear, is the best option.

Once we land, I descend the stairs and climb into the back of the car I arranged to be waiting for me. On the plane, I changed out of the jeans and T-shirt I’d been wearing and into something a little more meet-the-parents appropriate. Now I’m dressed in a button-down, pressed slacks, and a wool coat. I might be a psycho, but I know how to dress to impress, and I need Sammy’s parents to not only like me but also to understand that what I say is final and beyond question.

Once we’re outside her parents’ house, I wait for the driver to open the door, then step out, stride up the driveway, and knock on the front door. It’s almost eight p.m., which is a little late for an unexpected visit, but I want to get this sorted as soon as possible so I can get home to my wild one.

It takes a couple of minutes, but the door eventually opens revealing, Sammy’s dad.

“Can I help you?” he asks, his tone cautiously polite.

“Hello, sir. I apologize for the late visit, but my name is Evan Morris. I’m a friend of your daughter.”

His brows draw together. “Samantha isn’t here. She’s starting school at Harvard.”

“That’s actually what I came to talk to you about. May I come in?”

Clearing his throat, he glances at me, then turns to look behind him. “Of, err, of course. What did you say your name was again?”

“It’s Evan Morris. I believe that you may know my father, Harry Morris.”

“Of Morris Enterprises?” he asks, slight disbelief in his tone.

“Yes, sir.”

His eyes widen as he pushes the door open and steps aside. “Come in. You say you’re friends with Samantha?” he asks.

“Yes, sir, we met at Kingsacre.”

“Let’s sit in my office. I’ll ask my wife to bring us some coffee,” he says, more cordial now that he knows who I am.

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