Page 57 of Twisted in Obsession

“My little sister. But he has her. He holds her over my head. My monster.” Her words ring through my mind long after her head lolls to the side, and the nightmare fades away into nothing.

Tears cloud my eyes when I pull back, and her sleeping face greets me. Tears stain her reddened cheeks as she takes a deep breath, snuggling into my palms on her cheeks.

She’s home. She’s safe.

And I’m never letting her forget it.

Without hesitation, I pull her into me for reassurance. Her head rests into my shaking chest, and my fingers run through her curls, careful not to snag. Together, we fall onto her mattress, lying side by side. My arm tightens around her, dragging her back to my chest and settling her ear against my thumping heart. Quiet sighs of contentment fall from her lips. Her arm wraps around my middle, clinging to me as she sleeps away the fear she once felt.

This is what Arrow does when he sneaks in. And now, I understand why. But has he seen the way she thrashes and calls for Sunshine?

I’m her goddamn anchor in the storm, bringing her back from the brink of a hurricane. She’s my fighting tempest, blowing through the land and taking down whatever is in her path.

I’ll forever hold her and anchor her.

As I stare up at the cracked ceiling, a sense of rightness falls over me. No regrets. No wanting to turn back the clock and put my voice back in a dark box I hid it in for years.

I soothed her—my girl.

I comforted her when she needed someone in her corner. I wonder if Sable ever hears her cries in the middle of the night and is too high to notice the fear laced in her screams. Probably. The walls are too thin. But she doesn’t care. Not about Journey and definitely not about herself. Only her addiction.

But now I want to know why her nightmare happened in the first place. Who is this Monster she’s referring to? And why is she so damn afraid of the dark?

Something happened to Journey West, my Little Tempest, and I’m going to find out what.

I blow out a breath, lazily following my peers, lost in my thoughts as we make our way into math class. One last Friday. One last day until freedom. Then, Sunday, is our graduation. The moment I walk across the stage and grab my diploma, I'm looking harder than ever for Sunshine. There's been a few clues in her letters here and there. I know she's trying to help me find her, but I'm still stumped.

I rub a hand over my forehead, fighting the headache forming in my skull. I swear, I never want to see another party again. Booze? Nope! Don’t need it. Wine? God no, I might vomit before I do that again.

You know what I want? I want my books, bed, and solitude. Instead, for the last couple of weeks, I’ve been indulging in parties with Jenni in hopes of gathering information for my stupid monster. How's it going? Well, I've drank my weight in more alcohol than I could even imagine, and I've managed to get bits and pieces of what her life is like. She’s really opened up since we danced at Rave, and she completely tossed her cookies. Oh, and I practically fucked the Devils on the dance floor.

I can still taste the whiskey and smoke on Arrow’s fingers as he gagged me into an orgasm. But I’d never admit that to him. They cross my mind here and there when I lie down to go to sleep. And in the morning, the evidence of my stalker rests on my pillows. It’s mostly photos of me sleeping or their hands on my things. Specifically, my underwear. The fucker has a knack for stealing my panties, and soon, I won’t have any left. Whoever he is, he better start leaving me some new underwear. Somehow, though, deep in my gut, I feel like I know him. Does it bother me that someone is coming into my space and watching me sleep? Yes and no. Which makes me crazy, right? I’m fucking insane for semi-enjoying his presence. So, I try not to think about it too much.

Jenni and I have also been studying like crazy, almost every night—when we’re not partying, of course—leading up to finals. Sometimes it’s like talking to a brick wall, but I think I’ve chiseled away at a lot of her defenses and opened her up. Hopefully. She’s a pretty easy person to be around. And honestly, I like her. She doesn’t seem to have any other close friends, besides me now. She’s one of those—everybody knows her, but no one really knows her—kind of girls.

Now, the end of high school is near. Today is our last day of final exams, and then we’re free. Well, they are. I’m still a little puppet for a deranged psycho. But that’s the least of my worries. I have to take a test on a full-blown hangover. Jenni and I indulged in way too much wine last night as we stuffed ourselves full of cheese and watched movies while last minute studying. If you could actually call it that. It was nice to share a laugh with someone else and lose myself in the stupid comedy she put on.

Whatever I’ve done so far has worked. I’ve gained her trust. Somewhat. I’ve been snooping in her mansion, looking for any clues. Her father has an office he keeps locked up. He never seems to be home. Neither does her mother. Leaving Jenni to her own devices. It works for me, I guess. There’s no cameras lurking in the corners of the rooms or watching from secret places, so it's given me plenty of time to get the lay of the land, memorizing the house and everything in it for future reference.

“No more white wine,” I grunt, plopping down into my seat next to Jenni.

She grins, twirling her pencil, not showing an ounce of alcohol-regret. She looks as beautiful as ever. Shiny red hair, tight jeans, beautiful top. Hell, even her face is painted perfectly. And me? I groan, looking down at my ratty jeans and T-shirt. I managed to throw my messy hair into a ponytail this morning.

“And why are you so chipper and pretty?” I lie my head on my arms, groaning into my desk.

“Oh, you’re so dramatic,” she giggles, waving a hand. “I have news, and I need you. My father is going to be in town this weekend,” Jenni pouts.

“No rager?” I quip with a grin.

“Not tonight. So, I need you to help me.” She claps her hands with excitement. “So, you've met Elias.”

Yeah, he’s her boyfriend. Once, when we were hanging out at her house, he popped by for a quick visit. I stayed in her living room studying my textbook. While she studied his dick. Loudly. In her bedroom.

Good times.

I know who Elias is because I’ve had to study him, too. Just not his dick, thankfully. I know exactly what he does on the outskirts of Briar Cove. Gangster. Drug runner. Gun seller.

He’s about as dangerous as the Devils are. About, being the keyword. They still rule this town. Somewhere in my gut, though, I get this twisted feeling that Elias is looking to take this town over. One step at a time.

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