Page 9 of Obsessions of the Heart

It was hard to get anywhere when you had to move against the current of fearful people. Shoving them back for a second, I kicked off my heels, using one of them as a way to get people to part. They quickly caught on to the psycho with a silver heel and began to part for me, which made it slightly easier to get back into the room.

Bodies were littered around the dance floor, making it hard to find anyone. My heart began to pound as my eyes darted everywhere, scanning the crowd for my friend. I just needed to know that she wasn't on this dirty floor. I needed to confirm that she had escaped somehow.

Men at the front were still calling for Finn, waving their guns around at a few of his guys, trying to find out where he was.

I almost took a breath of relief when my eyes snagged on an abandoned red heel in front of a booth. Bright blonde strands stuck out from under the table. My heart dropped, and a buzzing filled my ears as I slowly got on my hands and knees, making my way closer.

Each shuffle forward felt like I was crawling on glass, my chest pounding loudly. No. Please. Please don’t let it be her. Please be someone else. Anyone else. I pleaded to a deity I knew didn't exist, but it was all I could do.

I vaguely heard the gunmen shoot again, flinching at the sound, but my eyes were glued to the blonde hair splayed out in front of me.

Curled up beneath the booth, the person was holding their stomach. Bright red liquid escaped from their hand and onto the floor. The white fabric of their outfit turning a bright red, just like the abandoned shoe inches away from us. A sob began working its way through my throat as my vision blurred. My hands wouldn't stop shaking, but I knew I needed to see who this was.

My shaky hand gently moved the golden locks aside, and Vivian’s sky blue eyes, half lidded, found mine. She took a shaky breath, using all her strength as her voice rattled something, low and garbled. Blood seeped out of her mouth as she whispered, “Lay. Run.”

Her eyes rolled back into her head before her whole body slumped. “Viv.” My whisper was more of a sob as I forced my shaky hand to push on her leg. She just needed to stay up, keep awake. “Vivian.” My voice grew a little louder as my breathing came out faster. Waves of pain took over my body before I grabbed her and violently shook her.

Her head lolled side to side with no reaction, not even a wince at the pain. Her face was an immovable statue, cold and still.

Feeling like my world was crumbling, I cried out loud, and one of the gunmen yelled, “Who the fuck was that?”

I was in my own world, unable to be scared or move away from my dead friend. Dead. That was what Vivian was right now. She was dead, and I would never be able to talk to her again.

Why was she dead? Why did it have to be her? What did she ever do to these fuckers? Nothing. Vivian had done nothing. She was just some girl with a shitty life who was trying to find some light at the end of the tunnel. She’d worked hard to try to find it.

Was this my fault? Was I really cursed? Did I bring bad shit with me wherever I went? Combing my hands through her hair, I was getting the sinking feeling that what they all believed was true. I was the bringer of death and destruction, even if I didn't mean to be.

Police sirens sounded in the distance. The gunmen cursed, said “Fuck it,” then ran off.

A set of hands grabbed me and yanked me out from underneath the booth. I pushed away on instinct, clawing and punching at the hands until a stern, deep, angry voice broke through the haze. “Hey. Hey! We need to get out of here before the cops come. Now.”

My reply came out in a foreign, lost voice. “My friend. I can’t leave my friend. She’s all I have.”

The hands grabbed my face, and I tried to shove them away, but they were stronger than me. The voice growled in my ear, “Would your friend want you dead?”

No. She wouldn't. Lay, run. Those were her last words. Even while dying, she knew how the system would go. The cops would have me give my story, but if they didn’t catch anyone, they would somehow loop me in, trying to use me as bait to lure someone forward. They would use me like everyone else in this world.

That horrible voice in the back of my head bled forward, sinking into my psyche. She died because of you. Because you’re the cursed child. A dark cloud. You just claimed your latest victim.

Choking down a sob, my knees wobbled, about to crumble again. I heard “Fuck this,” then the person threw me over their shoulder and ran out the side door.

Bouncing around on someone's back shook me out of my cloud of despair, and I noticed that the person was wearing black army boots, black pants, and a black shirt. With how this person was holding me, I was guessing it was a man, but I didn't really know. So caught up in my grief, I noticed nothing but the clothing and that angry, deep, gruff voice.

I felt a sting in my leg and called out to my savior or captor—I didn’t know which yet. My eyes began to droop, and the world faded away. For once, I didn’t fight it. I gave in to sweet, blank darkness. Finally, I can escape.

Chapter 4

Staring at my monitor, hands clenched, watching the police swarm the nightclub like ants crawling in and out of the building, scratching their heads like idiots. Of course they were too late to make any real work happen, but eventually someone would think of checking cameras from the businesses around the building and try to get a visual of what had happened. But they won't see the man in all black with a woman over his shoulder. They will never get footage of her entering that club either. I took care of that already.

Layrin.

Just thinking her name made my whole being quake. My longing for her spanned space and time. This all-consuming need to bring her here now, to take her and lock her in the room upstairs until she came to her senses, was beating in the back of my head. She would eventually understand. She was meant for us, and she knew it. She just let a pesky little thing like time get in our way.

No. I slammed my hand onto my desk. My monitors shook violently, but they didn't fall since I’d screwed them into the table. No. I needed to play this right. We had a plan, a good plan, one that had been in the works for years. Everything would fall into place. I just needed to wait.

I’d already waited eleven years, what was a few more months? Nothing. It was nothing compared to the life-long commitment we were gearing up for.

No, she needed time. Our little Rin wasn't born yesterday. She needed to logically understand and get used to the idea of being with me and my brothers for the rest of her life. Sure, our shared past would speed up that process, but the time we had spent apart would get in our way.

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