Page 81 of Endless Obsession

Which, of course—Nate’s brother and his wife are. I have no intention of hurting them. But Nate doesn’t need to know that. And by the end of this night, he’s most definitely going to be hurt.

I slink into the living room, pressing myself against the wall, silent as the grave. All of Nate’s attention is focused on his game, and he doesn’t hear me as I sneak up behind the chair, moving in one fluid motion to put a gloved hand over his mouth and my hunting knife to his throat.

“Don’t scream,” I murmur in his ear. “You’re going to come with me. If you do, everyone else in this house will be safe. If you start causing a fuss, then who knows what might happen to them?”

This is the riskiest part. I’m not sure Nate is self-sacrificing enough to keep silent for the sake of his brother and sister-in-law. And I was right to think that—I feel his mouth open under my glove, on the verge of screaming. I rear back, hitting him in the head hard enough to daze him, and he slumps.

Now I’m going to have to wait for him to come back to consciousness. He’s a dead weight, and although I’m strong, I’m not as beefy as, say, Lev. But I manage to get Nate up and out of the armchair, hefting him over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes as I leave the game running for noise, slipping back out of the house and across the street to the trees where I was hiding.

I take him further into the tree line, far enough that passing cars won’t get a glimpse of us in their headlights. Pushing him up against one of the trees, I zip-tie his hands behind it, stuffing a rag in his mouth to keep him silent as I fumble in my pocket for the vial of ammonia that will bring him back to consciousness.

Nate comes back with a jolt, his eyes wide and muffled, panicked noises coming from behind the gag. The only light out in the chilly night, in this strip of woods, is the moon filtering down between them, illuminating me in a way that I’m sure looks relatively monstrous. All in black, the only thing that can be illuminated is the white mask on my face, and I can see the terror in Nate’s eyes as he takes me in.

The bitter smell of piss fills the air, and I realize he’s already wet himself. I can’t help but laugh at that—it’s pathetic. I haven’t even touched him yet. But I didn’t expect better from him.

“I’m going to take the gag out. If you scream, your dick will be the first thing I cut off. Understand?” I wait for him to give a trembling nod, and then yank the fabric out of his mouth, dropping it to the grass.

“Who—who are you? If you want money—” He sputters the words, his teeth clacking together with fear, and I laugh.

“This isn’t about money. It’s about Charlotte. You see, I’ve seen your text messages to her. Not because she showed them to me, but because I figured it out on my own. And I don’t like the way you talk to her.”

He’s wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, shivering in the cold night, and I cut the clothes away methodically as I speak, not bothering to be careful. I hear him whimper and gasp as my knife nicks his skin, and I chuckle, tossing the clothing down to the grass.

“That’s nothing, Nate. Just a little scratch. It will get much worse, I promise.” I cut away his boxers, leaving him naked, his dick shriveling in the cold. “Now, we’re going to have a conversation.” I step forward, pressing my knife tip into the lowest part of his abdomen, right above his dick. “And whether or not you get to keep this depends on how it goes.”

Nate is shivering all over now, trembling with terror. I drag the knife lower, holding it against the base of his dick, and reach up with my other hand, grabbing his jaw. “Don’t look away from me. Now tell me, what makes you think you can keep texting Charlotte, when she clearly doesn’t want to talk to you?”

“She—” His teeth chatter. “She’ll come around. She’s upset, but she doesn’t get it. I didn’t ask her to do those things because I love her. I respect her too much! And now she’s out there letting other men touch her, like a filthy slut.” His voice grows stronger, some of his fear receding as he spits out the words that have clearly been festering for some time now. “She didn’t appreciate how I treated her. How I made sure to make her feel special. Better than all the other sluts. But now she’s fucking some guy?—”

I swing, hard, my fist connecting with his face. “I dare you to call her that again.” Another swing, hard enough that I hear the cracking sound of his jaw. “You won’t be able to speak another word out of this fucking mouth when I’m done with you.”

I’d planned to be slow, methodical, but the building stress of the past weeks and months, combined with the way he’s talking about Charlotte, tip me over the edge. I have to be careful, methodical, when I torture someone, but there’s no information I need from Nate, nothing he can give me other than the cathartic feeling of inflicting pain on someone who has hurt Charlotte. I can’t hurt my family for threatening her, but I can hurt him, and I hit him again and again, in his face and ribs and stomach, until I finally drag the knife down, scoring a bloody line down the top of his dick. He’s so bloodied by that point that the only sound he lets out is a mewling whimper, twitching against the tree, and I press the knife in before jerking it away.

“It’ll be a while before you can stick it in anyone else,” I hiss. “Think about that, before you ever talk to her again. In fact, just in case the message isn’t clear?—”

I step closer, pressing the knife into his chest. And as he moans in pain, I etch out the message I don’t want him to forget, one letter at a time, into his skin.

Keep your mouth shut.

“There.” I step back. “Now, when your brother sees you, you’ll have to explain. Good luck with that. And since he’ll see my message, too, he’ll be able to remind you. A little oversight never hurt anyone, right? God knows I have more than I want to deal with.” I pat him on his bleeding cheek, and Nate groans as I shove the gag into his mouth again, cutting through the zip-ties holding his wrists. I sling his bloody body over my shoulder, whistling under my breath as I carry him back to the house, depositing him naked on the back step.

“They’ll find you here in the morning,” I assure him. “It’ll be an uncomfortable night, but you’ll get through it. And Nate?” I squat down, tipping his chin up so I can look directly into his face through the mask. “Don’t ever breathe her name. Don’t go trying to get me back for this. Don’t try to figure out who I am. Just remember that you’re going to stay out of her life for good.” I pat his face again, straightening, and wipe my knife off on his thigh before sliding it back into the sheath on mine.

I wore black for a reason. His blood won’t show until I get home and dispose of the clothing, making sure there’s no trace of him on me anywhere. I’m good enough that there’s no chance this will come back on me. Not unless Nate somehow figures it out, and I don’t think he’s smart enough for that.

I also don’t think he has the balls to do anything about it, if he did.

My spirits considerably lifted, I start walking back to the alleyway where I parked my car. I reach for my keys, looking up—and then freeze in place.

There are three dark figures standing in front of my driver’s side door. Three figures, that, as they step a little closer, I see are all three of my brothers.

“What the fuck is this?” I snap, crossing my arms. “Lev, I’m not surprised to see you here being a pain in my ass, but Niki and Ani, I am surprised to see. You don’t usually manage to drag them out.”

“They’re my backup.” Lev smiles coldly at me. “I know what you’re up to, little brother. We’re going to take you back to otets, and you’re going to confess. You’re going to take whatever punishment he decides. If he wants your death, then so be it, slow or fast, whichever pleases him. And if you go along without argument, if you submit, then maybe we’ll leave your bitch alone.” He smiles, teeth white in the darkness. “Or maybe once you’re dead, I’ll take her for myself. But you’ll never know, will you?”

He moves forward, so quickly that I almost don’t have time to dodge him. In the alleyway, there’s very little room, and it’s three-on-one. Bad odds—but I’ve never cared about that.

When he swings again, this time, I swing, too. I clock him in the jaw, making his teeth clack together and sending him reeling back, and manage to get my knife free of the sheath as Niki and Ani close in.

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