Page 91 of His Property

I love him. I realized it days ago, when he was driving me home from Emily’s house. He spent the night in my bed, and we stayed up fucking and talking and more fucking until morning.

I haven’t told him yet, though. I’m terrified to. I’m letting Emily get into my head too much, and I’m scared of not being able to turn back. I’m scared of something changing.

“What’s your favorite movie?” Victor asks.

Something Gabi said weeks ago pops into my head, and I raise a brow and smile at him. “What’syourfavorite movie?”

“Top Gun.”

I tilt my head and give him a knowing look. “Bullshit. It’s something embarrassing.”

Victor chuckles, threading his hands behind his head before kicking back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You knowexactlywhat I’m talking about.”

Victor rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “Fine. It isn’tstillmy favorite movie, but when I was a kid, I had a thing forBeauty and the Beast.”

My lips tug. “The animated version?”

He nods.

“When you say kid…”

“Like twelve.”

My jaw drops. “Twelve? Your favorite movie was a Disney princess animation when you weretwelve? I started my period when I was twelve. Kristie Jacobs gave a boy a blowjob behind the bleachers when we were twelve. I was sneaking out when I was—”

“All right, I get it.” He holds up his hand. “I was a little pussy.”

I laugh. “I don’t know if I’d go that far, but…” I lift a shoulder and give him a teasing grin.

“Yeah, well, I think I’ve made up for it.”

“You’ve overcompensated horribly.”

Victor chuckles, and he opens his mouth, but both of our attention is pulled toward the front window when the sound of glass shattering fills the house. My eyes widen at the shards of glass littering the carpet. There’s a brick in the middle of the mess. The curtain I just put up yesterday flutters in the wind coming in through the hole in the window.

“What the fuck?” Victor growls, shooting up from his chair. He stomps toward the window.

“Wait,” I say, absently reaching out for him. “It might not be safe.”

Victor ignores me and flings open the front door. I get up and follow when he goes outside. I don’t see any cars speeding away, but down the street someone is pedaling fast on a bike. Victor looks at the window, then at the biker. His jaw clenches.

“Don’t,” I say, reading his mind when he takes a step toward his car. When I take his wrist to stop him, he meets my eyes.

I shake my head. “Just don’t. You don’t know if that’s the person who did it. Let’s go back inside and call the police.”

Victor’s eyes narrow. “I’m not calling thepolice, and I know who fucking did it.” He stomps inside, and I follow.

I softly click the door shut behind me while Victor picks up the brick and studies it before throwing it back to the floor.

“Do you think this was Cora?” I ask.

“Who else would it be?” he snaps.

I flinch at his tone, and he sobers. He sighs and closes the distance between us. “I’m sorry,” he says, taking my hands. “I’m just irritated.”

I nod but frown. “I get it.”

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