Page 48 of Locke

I had a moment of weakness in that moment where I wanted to claw his chest, but not in an act of violence, but in a way to hold onto him for dear life. To keep him pressed to me like a lifeline.

He was all I was beginning to know.

In the dark, I’d never seen someone more clearly than I did with Locke.

Fifteen

Locke

Part of Locke’s investments entailed properties spanning across Blackwater and beyond. The luxury apartment building he was currently inhabiting was four storeys high with four apartments per level. On the top level, Locke had the walls broken down so that the entire floor was his. The building was newly built, the apartments already bought out long before construction had begun with the new residents only weeks away from moving in.

Having Kali here meant no eyes were watching, no ears were listening.

But that would soon change.

And as Locke lay there with her asleep pressed against him, he realized his predicament.

He still wanted Kali, though she had made a deal to be let go straight after their tryst was over.

He had felt the fight give out in her.

She was satiated.

She was ready for this to be over.

Obsession twisted around inside him, whispering all sorts of fucked up shit.

Shit like: “She doesn’t mean it wanting to go, and you can change her mind.”

And: “Take her someplace hidden, nobody will ever know what happened to her.”

But what was someplace different?

And could Locke justify to himself—and her—such a premeditated crime?

It would be a raw betrayal to her.

But, fuck it, he would have her.

He'd never felt this way before.

And it was delusion.

But there was more to it, too.

And the storyline was all askew anyway. Now that he took her, it pretty much told him, “Okay, she’s yours now, make her fall in love with you.”

Even though he hadn’t the faintest fucking clue what falling in love entailed, or that he even wanted it. He just knew that this tha-thump bullshit in his heart was getting worse, and his mind was behaving sickly, and he had pretty much manifested a fucker named Obsession so he could hold him responsible for all this sordid absurdity.

But he wanted her.

That was another certainty.

He hadn’t had enough of her, and fuck it, he was going to take her. That was it. He was determined to do this, and he could throw her in a fucking place nobody could find and—and then fucking what?

This needed better planning.

He slid off the bed and paced some more, his mind a maze that led him from one dead-end to the next. There was no clear path to the other side, but Obsession kept prodding him, kept telling him not to stop, to figure out a way. Like the fucks from his past. They had built a fucking hole in the ground to rape little boys like him—

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