Page 59 of Brutal Obsession

Willow checks her phone again. “Wait.”

“What?”

“Screenshot the page,” she orders. “I think they just pulled it.”

I do, making sure to get the headline and all the images, too. I refresh the page, and the headline has been replaced by something else. An abandoned mall being converted into an indoor dog park later this year. I type in Greyson’s name into the search bar and get an error.

I meet Willow’s gaze. “How many people do you think saw that?”

She winces. “I found it because the headline and first image were in my inbox.”

Shit. Fuck.

No doubt that’s going to raise questions, whether or not they’re able to read the full article. Actually… at least that puts me in the clear. I’m not mentioned until the second half. But Greyson?

“His dad was in town last night,” she says.

I pause. “What?”

“His dad. The senator. They were photographed getting dinner together, hugging, the whole thing. The senator’s social media was making a big deal about visiting Crown Point to see the mayor and the president of CPU.”

“Protecting his investment. Isn’t he coming back for some charity thing next month, too?”

Willow grunts her affirmation. Paris had mentioned it—bragged about how her parents are coming in specifically for it.

I pace beside my bed. “Okay, so this article might’ve been planned for a while, or it could’ve been a spur-of-the-moment thing. All we know is that I didn’t say anything, and I can’t imagine Greyson would’ve either. Obviously.”

“Suspicious timing, for sure.”

I suck my lower lip between my teeth and think about everything that’s happened this semester. It just feels like everything is unraveling. Not just school but my life.

“Do you think it has to do with the break-in?”

Her face brightens, then falls. “What if it does? That’s fucking creepy.”

I grimace, then grab my phone again. I took a picture of my photo wall as evidence, and now I pull it up. The word whore is still harsh to read, but I block it out and zoom in on the prints.

“What are you looking for?” Willow rises on her knees and peers over my shoulder. “That’s awful, by the way. Still.”

“Yeah. I’m checking to see if there was a picture of my mom and I outside the hospital. It’s kind of like the one I posted on Instagram, but we’re both frowning in the one the paper used.” I shrug. “It’s just a hunch.”

“Did you have the frown printed out?”

I sag. “No idea.”

She chuckles and shakes her head. “Okay, Detective Reece. Let’s just… I mean, if it’s taken down, that’s not a bad thing. It’s actually probably good, they’ll just see the headline and the first paragraph in the email and think it’s… I don’t know, propaganda from a rival team or some shit. You know how everyone gets competitive when it gets close to the end of the regular season.”

Right. It’s barely seven o’clock in the morning—there’s a chance no one saw it.

Against my better judgment, I get ready for school with Willow. My muscles ache, and I find more than one bruise when I get dressed. I don’t particularly mind it. In fact, I think I like the reminder. I experiment by pressing on one of the bruises like Greyson probably would.

Never mind the bite marks he left on my neck and breast that have only just begun to fade.

The man is possessive with a capitalP.

Anyway, we go to school, and all is fine for the first half of the day. Two people ask me about it, but I feign confusion and they leave it alone.

At lunch, Paris marches up to me with a scowl marring her face. She looks like hell—her makeup is full throttle, per usual, but it’s smudged. She needs another coat of gloss on her lips, and her hair has been hastily put up in a high ponytail.

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