Page 156 of Brutal Obsession

“I never took those,” I whisper. I stare at her, trying to figure out if he’s telling the truth. I had a bad reaction to the opioids. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t walk. The room was constantly spinning.

But now I’m remembering how Mom told me we could just wean me off them. That I didn’t have to concern my doctor with it.

Did she keep filling a prescription for me?

Did shetakethem?

The shame in her eyes is confirmation. I stumble away from her, pushing off her attempts to keep me next to her. Her hands grasp at me.

“Stop her,” the senator says on a sigh.

Someone steps in front of the door. The man who opened it for us. A bodyguard of some sort? Either way, he doesn’t move for me.

Dread flushes through me, and I whirl back around. “What are you doing?”

Senator Devereux comes closer. He puts his hand on my back, steering me to the glass. His gaze lifts to the friends, pointedly ignoring us now, then back to me. “You and your mother are going to sit. Watch the last few minutes of the game. Celebrate when the Hawks claim their victory. And then we’ll chat.”

He shoves me down into one of the chairs. Mom comes over and practically falls into the chair beside me. She immediately slings her arm over the back of mine. She sends a glare his way, but he’s already heading back toward his friends. No doubt to placate them.

I focus on the ice. On thegame.

They’re tied. It was three-two in favor of the other team when Willow and I left. Was it Greyson who scored again? Completing his hat trick? I lean forward, trying to see my friends at the glass. I see Amanda and Jess, but no Willow.

And then I try to find Greyson, but I can’t seem to focus. The players skate harder. The Hawk that has the puck—Erik?—gets slammed into the wall, and the Knight takes off with it. My heart is in my throat, both at where I am and the game.

I glance behind me. The group of men have drifted back toward the windows, drinks in hand. The bodyguard at the door gives me a cold look when my attention turns his way. I whip back around.

Someone skates by, head turned out toward the crowd.

Devereux.

My throat closes. He seems to be searching for me.

A Knight catches him off guard and crashes into him. They both hit the glass hard, and Greyson shoves at the other player. Instead of a fight, they part and go in separate directions.

The buzzer sounds.

Overtime.

I swallow. The skaters leave the ice, and the announcer gives a rundown of what’s about to happen. A three-on-three sudden death. The first team to score in the next five minutes wins.

Mom leans toward me. “You have to believe that I did this in our best interests.”

Ourbest interests? I scoff. “I don’t have to believe anything.”

She bites her lower lip, and she can’t meet my eyes. My phone buzzes in my pocket.

Grey

Where are you?

I type a reply, but a large hand snatches my phone before I can hit send. I twist around, shocked. The bodyguard tucks my phone in his pocket, then looks pointedly down at my mother. With a quiet sigh, she pulls hers from her purse and hands it over.

This is so fucked up.

“You have to fix this,” I say under my breath. “Mom. Please.”

“Quiet,” the guy snaps.

---