Page 221 of Obsession

I had fallen in love with a murderer.

I wanted to run as far away from him as possible, but at the same time I wanted him with all my being.

Our first official relationship day. I thought about it as a memory with macabre amusement, in case we were still together in a few years.

The uncertainty of that feeling hurt more than the wounds on my body. The chances of Harris and I still being together years from now were too slim.

I opened the door before my own thoughts could make me surrender to him.

“Baby…” he grabbed my hand before I could get out.

“I need to be alone, Harris.”

“I know, and I promise I will explain everything to you, absolutely everything you want to know.”

His phone rang again, but he ignored it. I wasn’t so sure I wanted to know the details anymore. He had told me the most horrible truth of all with his own mouth.

“I just want me, my father and my friends to be safe again now.”

“I promise they will be.”

Needles pricked my eyes again, and I bit my tongue as I pulled my hand out of his. He let me out of the car, and I closed the door behind me.

Every step I took towards my house felt like a stake going through my skull. I barely managed to stumble into the kitchen and drink a glass of water, then took many deep breaths.

The effect of the painkillers wore off and the need to put my head in a bag of cocaine grew.

I saw him drive away through the kitchen window, but the other car was still there. Also a sports car, and I couldn’t see who was driving it, but I didn’t care.

I took a cigarette from the pack I’d taken from him and lit it with shaky hands. I sat down on the chair and prayed that the nicotine would help, that it would calm my fear and anger, but nothing happened. With every second that passed, I became more and more aware of what had happened, of the situation I was in.

After four cigarettes, I moved to the bathroom and left the water running in the bathtub.

I called my father to make sure he was okay and that no further misfortune would happen. He didn’t answer, but he sent me a voice message saying that he would be home in an hour.

I threw the dirty clothes in the laundry basket and got into the hot water. Every inch of skin was burning, my head waspounding, so I numbed it all with the remaining cigarettes from the pack.

I was exhausted, physically and mentally, but sleep seemed to take its time as my mind was overflowing and fear vibrated under my skin.

At midnight, he sent me the photos.

Those photos.

It was a good way to drive me completely insane, to make me realize how obsessed I had become with him. I spent hours sticking them into my diary, losing track of how many pages I’d done with him in them. My favorite pictures were my favorites – ones in which he was touching my body in the most sensual ways, and even though our faces or private parts weren’t visible, it made the pictures even more erotic.

He had become my whole life, all that mattered.

And everything that could kill me now.

CHAPTER 22

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A FATHER’S LIES

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The next day, Harris didn’t come to school, nor did his friends.

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