Page 93 of Wicked Scorn
Penn shoots him a glare. “Oh, I’m sorry. Maybe if you weren’t busy playing sidekick captain save a bro hero, you’d know how slippery she was. It was like trying to grab a butt plug covered in Crisco.”
“How much does she know?” Oakley asks, her voice steady despite the fear flickering in her eyes.
“Enough to sink us all,” Penn replies, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve gotta find her before she talks.”
“Damn it, this is the last fucking thing we need,” Graham growls from behind Penn.
“Right, well if you would rather handle it on your own then be my fucking guess lil bro,” Penn snaps, sarcasm dripping from every word.
“Stop it, both of you!” Oakley’s voice slices through the tension, and we fall silent. “Fighting between each other isn’t going to help.”
“Penn, find her and end it.”
“Jeremiah,” she pleads, her touch gentle against my arm, “let’s not become monsters over this.”
“Too late for that,” I mutter, but my gaze softens on her. “We’ll handle it. We always do.”
“I get to play Magnum PI,” Penn says. “We need to move fast, cover our tracks here.”
“Agreed,” Graham adds, all business now. “Gotta start thinking like Blackwoods.”
“Fine.” I take a deep breath.
“Jeremiah,” Oakley’s voice is a whisper, barely audible over the pounding of my heart. Her grip on my arm tightens, and I can see the panic starting to set in her crystal blue eyes. She’s trembling, her breaths coming in short gasps. Damn it, she’s having a panic attack.
“Hey, hey,” I murmur, trying to keep my voice steady, soothing. “I’ve got you, bunny. You’re safe.”
“Jeremiah, I can’t—” She chokes on her words, her body going limp against me.
“Fuck this,” I mutter under my breath. Without another thought, I scoop her up into my arms, cradling her against my chest. Her head lolls onto my shoulder, and I can feel the rapid rise and fall of her breaths against my neck.
“Stay with me, Oakley,” I command, more for my own sanity than hers. Her panic is contagious, and I have to fight to keep my own anxietyat bay.
“Jeremiah, we really don’t have time for this,” Graham’s voice cuts through the fog of my mind. He’s standing by the door, his expression a mask of urgency and frustration. His dark eyes lock onto mine, and we exchange a tense glance.
“Take her home,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. “We’ll figure out our next move.”
“Fuck,” I hiss, torn between wanting to stay and needing to protect Oakley. But one look at her pale, trembling form in my arms, and I know there’s no choice.
Her grip on my shirt tightens. Panic rises in her eyes, and I can almost feel her slipping away back into herself.
“It’s just me, bunny,” I say, my voice firm but gentle. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”
“Jeremiah,” she gasps, her body shuddering. “I can’t…breathe…”
“Hey, look at me,” I demand, tipping her chin up so our eyes meet. “You’re okay. Just breathe with me, alright?”
“Fuck,” Graham mutters, looking around at the dead body and the disaster that is the library.
“Yeah,” Penn replies. “We’ve got ourselves a real fucking pickle here boys.”
“Understatement of the century,” Graham snaps, pacing back and forth. “Evidence is too strong. No way we can make this look like an accident. We’re screwed, and I don’t even know if Dad can sweep this under the rug.”
“Oh, calm down,” Penn says, his tone oddly soothing. “It’s not like you two will pay the price he requires, anyway.” His eyes darken, shadows creeping in, almost to the point it seems like his entire iris is black.
Oakley’s fingers grip my shirt weakly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Burn it down,” she breathes, each word trembling but resolute. “Burn everything to the ground.”
Her statement silences us all, the gravity of her words settling like ashes after a fire. Even Penn looks momentarily stunned.
