Page 65 of Oblivion

“Evan,” she chokes, her voice thick with emotion.

“Samantha.”

Jolting at the sound of her full name on my lips, she buries her face in my shirt. I feel her shoulders start to shake, but I don’t comfort her. She did this, and now she has to live with the consequences.

“Is she okay?” Starling asks, moving to stand beside me with Bastian at her back.

“She’s fine,” I answer, flashing Starling a pointed look.

“Are you sick?” she asks Sammy, placing her hand on her shoulder and squeezing.

“I don’t feel well,” Sammy says, lifting her tear-stained face from my shirt.

“Do you want to go home?” Starling asks.

Sammy nods, and Starling turns to Bastian, who glances at me. He doesn’t ask, but he notices that I’m not comforting my crying girlfriend. Instead of calling me out, he steps to where Clay and January are dancing, letting them know that Sammy is ready to go.

When Clay and January rejoin our group, I gently pry Sammy from my chest and turn her toward Starling. “You go home with Starling, and I’ll wait for Hunter and Bunny to get back,” I suggest.

“No,” Sammy gasps, fresh tears filling her eyes.

“Make sure you drink some water before you get into bed. I’ll be back soon,” I tell her, taking a step back and flashing a pointed look at Bastian.

“Evan, no, come home with me. Please,” Sammy begs, curling her fingers into my shirt.

“I’ll be back soon,” I promise, unfurling her hand and taking another step back. I’m not enjoying putting distance between us or the horrified regret that’s so clear in Sammy’s eyes. But even though she’ll hate it, she needs to understand that I won’t allow her to use other men to taunt me.

If she chooses to flirt, dance, or touch other men, then that’s her choice, but her conscience will be heavy with the weight of her actions.

Hopefully one ruined life will be enough for her to learn not to fuck with me, but I’ll do this as many times as I need to, until this lesson sinks in.

Sammy’s crying in earnest when Bastian steps between us, blocking me from her view. Throwing an arm around each girl,he guides them around the edge of the dance floor and toward where the carts are parked. The moment they’re out of sight, I meander over to the guy who was stupid enough to touch what belongs to me, tap him on the shoulder, and offer him my hand.

“Hey, I’m Evan Morris, and this is going to sound weird as fuck, but did you go to Green Acres Academy? Because I swear, I recognize you, and I have no idea where from.”

His eyes flash with excited recognition, and he eagerly takes my hand, shaking it firmly. “Hey, I’m Trevor Landon. It’s nice to meet you. No, I went to St. Augustus. I’m from South Dakota originally.”

Furrowing my brow, I scan his face, pretending like I’m trying to place him when I’m actually trying to remember if I recognize his name. “Landon…” I hum. “Landon, like the coffee?” I ask, suddenly placing the name.

Shrugging self-deprecatingly, he nods. “That’s me, or my family, at least. Obviously, I know who you are. The Morris name is pretty easily recognizable. But I don’t think we’ve ever met before.”

Chuckling, I smile friendlily. “Well, you must just have one of those faces. Have a good night, Trevor.”

“You too, Evan. Nice to meet you.”

Turning, I walk away, pulling my cell from my pocket as I type out a text to Clay.

Me

I need to know everything about Trevor Landon and his family ASAP.

Clay

Who is Trevor Landon?

Me

No one important. Or at least soon, he won’t be.

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