Page 73 of Blades of Obsession

I always wanted to be buried next to her, but I never got around to telling my dad. Mostly because he’d be in a yelling fit by the time I got home from school every day. So, staring down the face of impending death, that was my last worry—not getting my wish. Well, that, and the fear of never seeing Blade or Frankie again. Maybe Rhett too, he’s not so bad either.

Thinking of people I’d miss if I died makes me think of Skye.

That bitch!

And I’ve never called a woman a bitch or any other derogatory term a day in my life. But how could she do that to me? She didn’t want to catch up at all—it was just some cruel way of getting me here.

Speaking of here, where am I?

I slowly lift my head, despite every muscle screaming in protest, and realize my hands are tied behind my back with rope. No wonder they felt so tight and uncomfortable.

I’m in the back of some old van, speeding somewhere, the air thick with the smell of rust and… piss? And cigarettes. Yuck. The only light comes from a small gap in the door separating me from the front of the van. I decide to crawl towards it and throw my body against the door. “Hey! Let me out of here!” My voice is hoarse, shaky with desperation.

The door slides open, and the light that seeps through the crack momentarily blinds me. I blink a few times, and then I see him.

Jacob.

“Aw, there she is,” he says with a smirk. “Man, you were out for some time. Little miss sleepy head, huh?”

Rage flares within me, hot and blinding. Jacob is behind this?! And he teamed up with my so-called best friend? My blood boils. “You psycho! What the hell are you doing? Is this some kind of joke?!”

He laughs, a sinister sound that chills me to the bone. My heart sinks as the reality of the situation crashes in. I’m trapped with a man whose intentions are a terrifying mystery. As much as I thought I knew him, I don’t.

“A joke? No, not quite. You’re just lucky I have a use for you, or you’d be dead already. Just so he can feel what I felt for Eli. But instead, I’m going to make you my own personal slave. Seeing as how you’re already so submissive.”

“You’re sick!” I struggle against the rope. “Jackass!”

He kneels to my level. “Look here, bitch. I don’t like the feisty type. So why don’t you be good for me like you were good for him.”

I spit in his face—the only thing I can think to do.

His twisted smirk doesn’t falter, even for a second. He wipes the spit from his cheek with his pointer and middle finger, then forces them into my mouth. Despite my frantic struggles, he manages to shove them down my throat, making me gag on my own spit.

“I would use another sedative to calm you down but we wouldn’t want to overdose the pretty girl.” He caresses my cheek with a sickening gentleness. I thrash and twist, desperate to escape his touch, but I can’t break free. Hearing someone else call me ‘pretty girl’ makes me sick to my stomach.

He places a burlap sack over my head, then shoves me forcefully towards the back of the van, where I fall onto the cold, hard metal. Moments later, I hear the door slam shut, followed by the unmistakable sound of a lock click, sealing my fate.

•••

I force my eyes open, blinking against the dim light filtering through a tiny slit in a boarded-up window. It takes a few moments for everything to come into focus. The rough, wooden walls. The smell of mildew. The dripping of a faucet somewhere nearby.

I must’ve fallen asleep for the rest of the van ride because I don’t remember being placed in this bed. My first instinct is to move and stretch my aching muscles, but when I look down, I see I’m secured to the bed with thick metal chains.

How did I land myself here? I’m supposed to be on campus enjoying lunch with Blade and Frankie, laughing at whatever nonsense Frankie decides to spew until Asher shutsher up. I should be worrying about the lecture I have next, not how to escape from a kidnapper.

And oh my God, the project due after Christmas break. I was supposed to turn it in tomorrow, and now I’m probably going to fail. I know, stupid me—worrying about a grade when my life is practically on the line here.

In the middle of my thoughts, the door swings open, and Jacob steps in, looking at me with a satisfied grin. I want to wipe it off his ugly face.

“Awake already?” he taunts, closing the door behind him. “I heard the chains rattling.”

“Let me go, Jacob.”

He takes a few steps closer, and I instinctively back up on the bed. “Or what? You’ll scream? We’re in the middle of nowhere. No one will hear you.”

I glare at him, hatred now burning in my veins for the person I used to love the most. “What do you want, huh? Why are you doing this?”

“I told you already. You’re going to be my personal whore. Then he’ll never get the image of me fucking you out of his head.”

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