Page 2 of Obsession

It didn’t leave me feeling as satisfied as I’d hoped. Deciding there wouldn’t be any others, I went back to the apartment building and watched the windows, hoping to spot the woman from earlier. I found her on the third floor, staring out into the night. She’d changed her clothes, and her nightgown molded to her curves. Even from here, I could see the peaks of her nipples through the material.

My cock hardened and I wanted to feel her under me. Chained to my bed, begging for mercy. The thought of her crying, hearing her pleas for me to set her free, was enough to make me smile.

I didn’t know who she was, but I wanted to find out.

She was the first in over a decade to make me want something other than death.

Chapter One

Hollis

Raven’s Vale reeked of fear and blood. Happiness ceased to exist here, and escape was a dream for most. Survival consumed me daily, draining my energy.

“Morning, Hollis,” Dr. Nora Fields greeted, her voice strained as I passed her clinic.

“Morning, Doc,” I muttered, scanning the distance for the psychopaths that haunted our lives.

“Fresh bread!” Lyla shouted from the bakery doorway, her enthusiasm tainted by impending danger. “Get it while it’s hot!”

“Thanks, Lyla,” I said, buying a loaf and feeling my stomach growl in response. Hunger was just another problem in this town.

“Take care, Hollis,” Lyla said. I noticed the way her eyes darted from right to left, as if scanning the area for danger. I knew why. Everyone in town did. The murderers’ presence lingered like a dark cloud. Their monthly killing spree loomed over us.

“Will do,” I replied with a forced smile. As I continued my errands, the air grew heavy with tension.

There they were: three menacing silhouettes casting shadows across the ground -- our collective nightmares materialized before me.

“Riot,” I whispered under my breath, captivated by his imposing figure. He was the worst of them, the one who made even the other two psychos look like amateur hour. My pulse quickened as I watched him walk, his movements fluid and predatory -- like a fucking big cat on the prowl. Was it just me or did it seem like he was coming closer to me?

“Keep moving, Hollis,” I whispered to myself, shaking off the strange mix of terror and fascination that gripped me. No good could come from staring at The Butcher himself. I had heard stories of what he’d done to those unlucky enough to catch his attention. And yet… there was something about him that made it impossible to look away.

“Fuck,” I muttered, forcing myself to focus on my errands, trying to push the image of Riot from my mind. I couldn’t let my curiosity get the better of me -- not in this town, and certainly not with him. But damn if it wasn’t hard to forget that face -- the face of the devil himself. Why did he have to be so sinfully gorgeous?

My heart hammered in my chest as I turned a corner, trying to distance myself from the chilling sight of the psychopaths. The wind howled like a banshee through the darkened streets of Raven’s Vale, carrying whispers of terror and pain. I tried to shake off the unease that tightened around me like a vise.

Get your shit together, Crane. I knew if I didn’t, I’d be next on their list. The town was holding its breath, waiting for the next blood-curdling scream or gruesome discovery to shatter the fragile illusion of safety. We were all just playing our parts in this fucked-up game, and it seemed I had drawn the short straw today.

“Hey, Hollis!” a voice called out, causing me to jump. I turned to see my friend Lyla hurrying toward me, her eyes wide with concern. “You okay? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

“Something like that,” I admitted, glancing over my shoulder one last time. The psychos seemed to have disappeared, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched. Fuck! I realized my suspicions were right. My gaze locked on to the piercing eyes of Riot Tredway. He was watching me -- not just watching but studying me. His eyes held an intensity that sent shivers down my spine and made my pulse race. “Riot.”

“Riot?” Lyla asked, following my gaze. She gasped, pulling me behind a nearby building. “What the fuck is he doing here?”

“Watching us, apparently,” I replied, my heart pounding like a jackhammer. “We need to get out of here.”

I could feel Riot’s gaze burning into me. It made me feel stripped bare and completely vulnerable.

“Come on,” I whispered to Lyla, trying to drag her away from our hiding spot. “We need to move.”

But try as I might, my legs refused to listen. They were rooted in place, paralyzed with fear. And it wasn’t just fear -- there was something else too. I couldn’t deny the perverse fascination I felt, the sick curiosity that drew me to him like a moth to a flame.

“What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing,” Lyla reassured me, squeezing my arm. “It’s just fear. Let’s go.”

“Right,” I agreed, finally managing to tear my eyes away from his chilling stare. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

The looming presence of The Butcher cast a dark shadow over the streets, his name a whispered curse on the lips of those who dared not speak it aloud. Riot’s gaze seemed to pierce through the veil of reality itself, drawing me closer with a magnetic pull that both terrified and intrigued. His eyes held secrets, hinting at a depth of darkness that sent a shiver down my spine.

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