Page 97 of Blades of Obsession

“No. I want you to let me go.”

His face hardens in an instant. He moves to grab my arm, and I try to dodge him again, but he’s too fast. “You’re not fucking going anywhere.”

“Let me go! I’m done. I’m leaving.”

“The only way you’re leaving me is through death, and even then, I’ll make a deal with the fucking devil so you serve me in hell.” His voice is rough, unrecognizable. Like his inner demon is taking over.

Shivers run down my spine at his words. I try to yank my hand free, but his grip only tightens. He crashes me into the wall, his hand shifting to my neck.

He leans in close, whispering low in my ear through gritted teeth. “You’re not fucking leaving me. No matter how much you try, I’ll always drag you back. Kicking. Screaming. I don’t want to have to hurt you, but you’re going to make me. Don’t make me have to hurt you.”

His grip tightens around my throat, making it hard to breathe. I want to kick and scream, to fight back, but I know it’s useless while he’s like this. The thought of the knife he gave me crosses my mind, but I could never do that to him. Even if we are in this predicament. “Okay, okay.” I gasp. “I understand, I won’t leave.” He doesn’t let go right away, his eyes drilling into mine. “I need to go to my studio to work on my designs, please,” I whisper, my voice hoarse. “So I can feel better.”

Finally, he releases me, and I stumble out of the room, my heart pounding like a hammer against steel, each beat harder than the last.

As soon as I hit the hallway, I bolt. I don’t think I’ve ever run so fast in my life. Twisting through the corridors, my feet barely touch the ground until I make it to the front door. Grabbing my keys from the tray by the entryway, I haul it outside to my car. Well, his car. Because I’m sure I won’t be able to keep it once he realizes I’m gone. Even though it is in my name now.

I jump in the driver’s seat, my hands shaking as I fumble with the keys, trying to get them into the ignition.

While I’m driving back to my dorm, I hesitate. I can’t go there. He’d be banging down the door within the next twenty minutes. Going to my dad’s is out of the question, too. Even though I absolutely do not want to listen to Blade right now, I never found out what was so unsafe about going there. And I’m not in the mood for any surprises right now.

My thoughts are a whirlwind of hurt and confusion, and as I drive, I try to make sense of it all. The tears I had been holding back finally spill over, and I sob, pounding my fist against the steering wheel. My heart shattering into a million little different pieces.

I pull out my phone and dial Frankie. The second she answers, I blurt out, “Frankie, can I go to your dorm room, please?”

Chapter 37

BLADE

She’s as insane as I am if she thinks she’s fucking leaving me.

Well, she did leave physically for the time being—Asher told me she ran out of the front door like she was running from a serial killer. And I guess, in a way, she was. But, she’s not leavingliterally.

Does she really think she has a choice to leave? My blades of obsession cut deep, deeper than the core of the fucking earth, yet she thinks she can just walk away? She must doubt my obsession for her. I thought I made it clear these past few months that she’s mine forever—stuck with me, attached to my side by an invisible string—but she’ll see soon enough.

Not to worry. She’ll be back, willingly or unwillingly.

That’s what I keep telling myself, so why the hell am I pacing back and forth in my room, clenching my fists as panic rocks me to my core?

The depth of the situation hits me, right in the gut, stabbing into me and taking a piece of my soul with it.

Sheleft.

She.

Fucking.

Left.

I pace faster.

I fucked up. I got too comfortable. I was going to tell her eventually, but I didn’t want her to see me differently.

Amelia is the type of girl who wants to be swept off her feet by a morally just Prince Charming. But I’m not that guy. I’m more like the guy who’d cut off her foot while she’s sleeping, so the shoe wouldn’t fit for the real Prince Charming and I could keep her all to myself.

The mirror in front of me reflects a man I hate. A man who made her leave. My fingers graze the cold glass, it feels familiar, yet foreign, like I’m staring back at a stranger.

I sigh and sit on the edge of my bed, my chest tightening. The room feels too small now, too suffocating. It feels like a coffin waiting to be lowered underground, waiting for impending doom.

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