Page 112 of Obsession

That was a person in there. Aris has a person in there that he’s keeping suspended above a pit of alligators. Why?

“What was that?” I demand, moving toward him to shove him one-handed. He doesn’t move an inch, staring down at me. “What is this place?”

“I told you: a zoo.”

“A zoo for what, for people? And you put them in their personal hell?”

He stays silent, and his former words catch up to me.

Horror strikes, enough to silence me until anger overcomes it. “You said you should have put me in a room. You… considered making one of those for me?”

Aris scowls. “Yes, I considered it, and don’t look so astonished! You’ve been a bad girl.”

I stare in outrage. I’ve been bad? He’s torturing people! And he wanted to torture me!

“What is wrong with you?” I demand once I find the words, and his eyes narrow.

Good. Emotion. I need to be reminded that the person I love has been replaced by the monster he’s always been.

I demand, “Why did you bring me here?”

His lips curl, and he slams the door shut. “‘Why?’” he hisses. “Why? Why do you think, you stupid girl? It’s to show you how good you have it!”

I jump back, barely quick enough to avoid him as he barrels past to pace in a straight line. His movements are uncontrolled, unrestrained, his hands shaking with fury as he moves. I look away, staring wide-eyed at the wall, at a loss of what to do.

I’ve never seen him like this.

Slowly, I turn to watch him pace again. He can’t look at me; his focus is on the ground, with a snarl that betrays how unhinged he is. I don’t dare speak; I don’t dare risk him turning that rage my way.

But, of course, he hears this fear.

Without warning, Aris springs and grabs me. He shoves me against the wall, the bulk of his body trapping me as he towers over me. My back burns, but I don’t dare move; I couldn’t escape if I tried, and Aris solidifies the impossibility by shooting a hand out to grip my throat.

His fingers press in, light enough that I can still breathe, but they are fully wrapped around my windpipe.

He studies me. I look back with tears in my eyes. Speechless, the both of us.

Aris flexes his fingers. Strong, capable, and cold. He could kill me neatly, and he is upset enough that he might just do it.

My heart races faster and faster, pulse desperate under his hand, and, just when I think he has finally decided to end this game of ours once and for all, Aris simply pushes away with a grunt and begins to pace again.

I gape at his retreating figure, shocked and unsure how to react. My body is struggling to recover from the threat of death that just hung over me.

“Do you not realize how accommodating I have been?” he mutters darkly. He isn’t looking at me, gaze fixed on the ground as he moves like a trapped lion.

“‘Accommodating?’” I repeat, stupefied.

He whirls on me, his face contorted halfway between a laugh and a snarl. "Do you truly not understand my tolerance? I could wipe your mind. I could force you to worship me. But I haven't. Do you not see what I could do, what I should do?”

I just stare, and his volume rises to a shout. His hands raise from his sides, fingers curling like talons. “Tell me why I shouldn’t. Tell me why I shouldn’t make you a mindless slave or put you in a ‘hell!’ Tell me, Mary!”

My breath comes out in shudders. He is as rabid as those alligators. I am terrified, but still, not at a loss. He is feral because of love. He looks at me with equal parts rage and desperation, hating that he is turning to me, yet unwilling to look away.

I understand that better than anyone. I love him and hate him and, most troubling, these feelings are not divorced from one another.

"Because then, you'd have to live with the fact that I didn't choose you,” I say evenly. “That you lost."

He stares. His fingers tremble like they have a will of their own and wish to wrap back around my throat and squeeze until I stop speaking such cruel and honest things.

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