Page 41 of Obsession

“Work” meant tearing down walls and building new ones -- fortifying a room where innocence could dwell, untouched by the chaos that reigned outside. A sanctuary amidst the storm of violence that was Riot’s empire.

I watched his face, searching for a hint of the man beneath the monster. There was a hardness there that spoke of countless sins, but also… something else. A glimmer of understanding, maybe. It was enough to make me believe that, despite the blood on his hands, he could still carve out a space for something pure.

“Promise me,” I whispered, the words slipping out like a prayer.

“Anything,” he replied, his voice rough as gravel.

“Promise me they’ll never know the horrors you inflict on those around you. That they’ll think their daddy is just a tough guy with a big heart.”

“Swear it on my life,” he vowed, and I knew he meant every syllable. “At least, until they’re old enough for someone else to tell them any different. I can only control this town to a certain point.”

Our eyes locked, and in that moment, we were bound by more than the obsession and fear that had first bound us together. We were bound by a shared determination to protect the innocent life growing inside me -- a beacon of light in the all-encompassing dark. I had a feeling this child was going to change things. Not only for me, but for Riot as well. Possibly even for Crash and Kane.

None of them would ever be normal. I wouldn’t ask it of them. But perhaps I could soften their edges a little.

“Then let’s begin,” I said, steeling myself for the path ahead. Standing there with Riot, the notorious psychopath with a merciless reputation, I somehow found the courage to face whatever came next. Together, we turned toward the future sanctuary, ready to forge a haven from the havoc, a safe room where love and madness could, against all odds, coexist.

It wouldn’t be finished today or even tomorrow. It would take time, but together, I thought we might be capable of just about anything. This might seem like a small concession to most, but to me, I knew it was the biggest thing Riot had ever agreed to.

Chapter Fifteen

Hollis

I stumbled out into the choking darkness, the night air cold and biting against my skin. Raven’s Vale was a ghost town, its streets barren and unforgiving. Anyone smart was tucked safely inside their homes. The echo of our footsteps bounced off the walls with a rhythm that matched my hammering heart. Riot moved like a shadow beside me, his towering form a constant reminder of the beast I’d shackled myself to.

“Keep up, Hollis,” he said. “We don’t have all night.”

My breath came in short bursts, misting in the frigid air as I struggled to match his pace. Every instinct screamed at me to run, to hide, to protect the life growing inside me. But fear had become my bedfellow, and it compelled me forward, my hand splayed across my belly as if I could shield my unborn child from the sins of its parents.

The streets were like a coiled labyrinth perfect for the damned. We prowled through the darkness, hunters in a concrete jungle. The taste of bile stung the back of my throat, and I swallowed it down, along with the dread that threatened to overpower me.

“Scared?” Riot taunted, his lips curling into a smirk that never reached his dead eyes.

“Fuck you,” I spat back, more to convince myself than to challenge him. My voice quivered, betraying the turmoil that churned within me.

“Careful now.” He snickered. “Wouldn’t want to upset the little monster you’re incubating.”

I winced, unable to deny the truth. What kind of life was I bringing this child into? A world where death was a lover, and darkness a cradle? I shivered, not from the cold, but from the realization that I was walking hand-in-hand with madness, and there was no turning back. Not to mention, there was always the chance my child would be born as a mirror image of his father.

We slinked deeper into the bowels of Raven’s Vale. Riot moved with a predator’s grace, muscles coiled and ready to strike. He paused for a moment, nostrils flaring as if he could smell the fear that clung to the night air like a second skin. I sometimes wondered if he really was human, or if the stuff of nightmares might be real.

“Ripe for the picking,” he murmured, more to himself than me, his voice a low growl. His eyes flickered with a wicked gleam -- the kind that spelled out doom for whoever crossed our path.

“Where?” I asked, though I wasn’t sure I wanted an answer.

“Shh,” he commanded, a finger pressed to his lips. “Just watch.”

A shudder ran down my spine, the thrill of the hunt igniting something primal within me, something I barely recognized but couldn’t deny. Riot’s presence was a drug, intoxicating and dangerous, and I was hooked.

There, in the shadow of an abandoned storefront, a figure materialized, lone and oblivious. A plaything delivered to us by the cruel hands of fate. Riot’s arm shot out, halting me. With a tilt of his head, he beckoned, and my feet obeyed, creeping forward on autopilot.

The silhouette grew clearer -- a man, maybe, or a woman, it hardly mattered -- just another soul unlucky enough to cross our path. Riot’s movements were silent, a whisper against the cobblestones, and I found myself mimicking him, every sense sharpened by the promise of what was to come.

“Stay close.” He didn’t look back to see if I complied. The command was unnecessary. Where else would I go? We were bound by blood, by darkness, by the twisted love that bloomed amidst the carnage we wrought together.

As we closed the gap, I could see Riot’s fingers twitch, aching for the release only violence could bring. I watched, transfixed, as the demon within him stretched its wings, preparing to descend upon its next victim with unholy fervor.

We edged closer. The prey was just a shadow, a wisp of life in the darkness that called to Riot like a moth to flame. Each step tightened the coil in my chest, every breath laced with the metallic taste of anticipation.

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