Page 13 of Wicked Scorn
She scoffs, but doesn’t say anything as she gathers up the rest of her stuff.
“Do you really want to make me involve your brother?” I threaten, leaning closer to her. The mention of Royce brings a flicker of pain to her expression, quickly masked by another layer of stubbornness.
“Royce isn’t part of this,” she says through clenched teeth, though I can see the vulnerability in her eyes.
“Maybe he should be,” I counter, my voice low and dangerous. “Seems like someone needs to look out for you.”
“Get over yourself, Jeremiah,” she spits back, grabbing her bag. “You don’t get to play the hero and it’s not exactly like you can call my brother up right this second, is it?”
“Haven’t I always been that for you?” I ask, stepping into her path, blocking her exit. She can deny with her words all she wants, but we both know it’s true.
“Move,” she demands, her eyes narrowing at me, filled with a mixture of emotions I can’t quite decipher, fear, anger, maybe even a sliver of longing.
“Not until you tell me why you were there,” I insist, my voice unwavering.
“Don’t hold your breath,” she repeats, her chin lifting defiantly.
“Then we’ll stay here all damn day,” I challenge, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Fine,” she hisses, her eyes blazing. “But don’t think for a second that you can intimidate me, Jeremiah Robert Blackwood.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Rem,” she whispers, an edge of desperation in her voice. “Just let me go.”
“Not until I get some answers,” I respond, my voice softening slightly, though the determination remains.
“Fine,” she says, voice trembling but eyes fierce. “You want answers? My brother’s been absent from my life since you ruined it. You think you can just threaten me with him?”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut.
“Ruined it?” I ask, my anger flaring up again. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t act clueless, Jeremiah,” she spits out, her eyes flashing with pain and fury. “After that night, after Royce—” She stops herself, shaking her head as if to clear the memory. “He disappeared. Because of you.”
“That’s not fair, Oakley,” I say, my voice low but intense. “You know there was more to it than that.”
“Fair?” she laughs bitterly, picking up her phone. Her fingers fly across the screen, each tap like a punch to the gut. “I’m done with this conversation.”
“Who are you texting?” I demand, stepping closer. I have no problem beating the piss out of whoever it is, especially if it’s part of that little frat pack from the party last night.
“I’m getting a ride back to my dorm,” she snaps, glaring at me, her dress clinging to her body in a way that makes my throat dry. But there’s no beauty in this moment, only the ugly truth of our past, the craving and the hurt that festers beneath the surface.
“I’ll drive you back,” I tell her, because how the fuck does it look if I let a stranger take her back to her dorm? I shake my head. I still can’t believe she’s here on my campus.
Oakley’s fingers pause over her phone, a slenderbrow arching in disbelief. “You think I’d get in a car with you?” Her laugh is sharp and haunting.
I lean against the door frame, arms crossed, trying to mask how damn much I want her to say yes. “We used to cruise around all the time, remember? My bike between your thighs, your hands gripping me like you’d never let go.”
Her eyes flash. But she’s not having it, not today. “That was then, Jeremiah. This is now. And right now, I’d rather hitch a ride with a serial killer than share a seat with you.”
“Christ, Oakley.” I rake a hand through my hair, frustration gnawing at the edges of my composure. “Fine, play it that way. But don’t act like there wasn’t something real between us.”
“Something real?” she scoffs, stepping closer, her floral scent hitting me like an uppercut. “What’s real is the mess you made. What’s real is me wanting to forget every second I spent fooled by your pretty boy demeanor.”
“Is that what this is about?” I shoot back, my voice laced with sarcasm. “Forgetting? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you can’t stop remembering.”
“Fuck you, Jeremiah.” The words slice through the air, her voice low and lethal.
