Page 73 of Whispers of Obsession

“I d-don’t—” she slurs.

“Sshh,” the creep tells her, slapping a hand over her mouth and dragging her toward the alleyway opposite the house.

Seriously? He’s just planning to what—fuck this girl in an alleyway and then leave her? She’s far too wasted to consent.

I step out of the shadows, right into his path, and he curses me.

“What the fuck, dude? Get out of my way!”

“Help me,” the girl whispers, and he whirls on her.

“Shut the fuck up! Whore!” he snarls, back handing her across the face so hard that she stumbles. I catch her as gently as I can to stop her from falling and set her right on her feet. She clings to me, thinking I’m the lesser of two evils here. Maybe for once I am.

“Do you have your phone on you?” I ask.

She shakes her head, sobbing, and I wipe the smear of blood in the corner of her mouth away. “I-i-it died.”

“Do you have friends inside that party?” She nods. “Okay. Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to cross the road, go back to the house, and find a friend. Or anyone that you know. You’re going to borrow their phone and call an Uber to get home and you’re going to wait inside until it arrives. Understand?”

She frantically nods her head. “Y-yes.”

She takes off running across the deserted street, suddenly a lot more sober than she was a moment ago.

I’m turning back to the piece of shit when I’m shoved hard from behind. I stumble but catch myself easily. I’m already throwing punches before I’ve even fully turned back.

That fucker will never even think of Cora, or any other innocent girl, ever again when I’m done with him.

31

CORA

The crisp autumn air clings to my skin as I step out of my dorm room, excitement buzzing in my chest. Today marks the beginning of my second week working at the restaurant, and despite the long hours and sore feet, I can’t shake the feeling of accomplishment that comes with each shift - especially when I know I’ll be getting my first paycheck today.

Slater and I haven’t spoken much beyond the usual polite chit-chat, but I feel his eyes on me often whenever I’m working. So far, he’s been on almost every shift I’ve worked. And if it were anyone else, it’d be creepy. But Slater makes me feel…safe.

I know he’s still not happy about me working at the bar,but he knows I’m not going to quit, so it’s become something neither of us talks about. He glowers at me every time I walk through the doors, but watches over me like a hawk and always has my back, so I can’t complain.

I long to ask him about his birthday and his subsequent disappearance, but we’re not there yet. Before all that, I thought things were getting back to how they used to be between us,but that closeness has gone again, and I know if I start asking personal questions he’ll just clam up again. Or worse, look for a way to get me fired from the bar, and I can’t afford to have that happen.

I miss his friendship, but having him in my life like this is better than not seeing him at all.

As I make my way through the bustling streets of campus, my mind replays the events of the past week over and over. Working alongside Slater has been both challenging and surprisingly rewarding. Despite our complicated history, we’ve managed to find a rhythm working together, our shared experiences forging a bond stronger than ever before.

Lost in my thoughts, I almost don't notice Slater waiting for me at the entrance to the restaurant. He stands casually, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips as he catches sight of me approaching.

“Morning, Cora,” he greets, his voice warm and inviting.

“Morning, Slater,” I reply, returning his smile with a hint of amusement. “Ready for another day of chaos?”

Slater chuckles, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief. “Always.”

Together, we push open the door and step into the bustling atmosphere of the restaurant. Somehow we’ve both ended up on the breakfast shift, and I’m glad to finally have a Saturday night to myself. Not that I have plans.

The familiar sounds of clinking glasses and murmured conversations fill the air, mingling with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon.

As we make our way to the staff area, I steal glances at Slater out of the corner of my eye. There’s something different about him today, a certain lightness to his step and a sparkle in his eyes that I haven't seen before.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” I ask, unable to contain my curiosity any longer.

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