Page 171 of Volatile Obsessions

He wanted to play me, to fuck me over, right?

Well now, I was really going to fuck him.

Inexorably.

Everything he’d acquired and built upon since arriving in Miami was about to go up in sweltering, ruthless flames.

I smiled victoriously.

Heinously.

The mere thought of his demise brought me that inept sense of peace I’d been seeking, one that allowed me to take a deep breath and collect myself before I unleashed the gates of hell.

And should anyone get in my way while I did so, they’d be thrown in the wreckage, too, left to burn alive while the world around them turned to ash.

I took one last look at the solidarity of the darkened building. In about five minutes, it wouldn’t be so dark anymore. Another smile drifted across my face. To be a fly on the wall when he received a call his micro-empire had gone up in smoke…

Stepping out onto the gravel, I shut the driver’s door softly and walked around to the rear end of my truck, popping the trunk open. Inside were the two plastic canisters I’d filled to the brim with gasoline on my way over here. One would be carefully poured around the lower level while the other would drown the entirety of his office upstairs. I wanted everything he owned as decimated as he’d left me—his database, his files, his contacts, his fucking art work.

Everything.

He’d have nothing left by the time I drove off the lot.

I wasted no time after picking the lock and forcing my way inside, pouring stream after stream of gas all over the different stations that made up the ground level. When that canister spilled its last drop, I tossed it in the middle of the room and started upstairs with the other container in hand, taking care to shed a trail behind myself. All the while, every moment Roman and I had shared played in an unsought repetitive loop that made me impossibly angrier.

With an infuriated growl, I kicked his door wide open and took in the sight of his obscure office. It smelled of him and that vexed me, too, because why the hell could I so vividly remember how he smelled? Then it was like his scent flooded me with those unwanted memories, the ones where at our most savage points I’d felt that hellfire rip through my being as those icy orbs possessed me from the inside out.

I laughed softly at my inner-thoughts, shaking my head in only slight amusement. Who the fuck was I kidding? It wasn’t just those eyes that possessed me. It was every-fucking-thing about him.

Those eyes.

That grim smirk.

His unfazed laugh.

His feral growl.

His ability to corner me faster than I could blink.

How from one moment to the next he could subdue me to his liking.

How his hands on my skin stung gloriously like a million taser probes.

The way my body sang the loudest of Hallelujah’s while he impaled me without mercy.

How he made me fucking fall in love with him…

“Ahhh!” I growled again, dropping the canister of gasoline to the ground.

Each tick on the list had fueled my rage to capacity.

I bound toward his desk and swiped everything off its surface in one big huff. Pens rolled on the floor. Papers flew in the air. His so-called antique lamp split in two while the bulb bursted like a bomb. It wasn’t enough to calm me and with my chest heaving, I ripped his keyboard from the monitor and flung it across the room right into a wall. The monitor was next, crashing to the floor with a monstrously loud bang. All his art work on the walls came down, too, the glass of each frame shattering into hundreds of tiny pieces. By the time I’d sent his chair flying through one of the windows, his office was a complete war zone.

And I was about to turn it into ground zero.

I doused everything in gasoline. Every last thing from the curtains to electrical to the contents of the mess I’d made. When the last drop hit the ground, I catalogued this gruesome image to memory and took off down the stairs like a bat out of hell, laughing almost manically. Clearly all the fumes were getting to me, that or the extent of my depravity far exceeded what I thought possible.

In any case, the container held captive in my hand met its pair in the middle of the factory, and without so much as a glance back, I followed the trail I’d spilled upon first walking in to the front doors. Then I pulled a matchbook from the back pocket of my jeans and tore one free from it’s family, meeting the match head to the striker. Seconds later, the smallest flame came life, hypnotizing me with all its layers; golds, reds, oranges, and a small sliver of a blue, each one melding together seamlessly to create a singular powerful source. I glanced down at my converse-clad feet, zeroing in on the shiny path I’d so kindly laid out before them.

Do it. Drop it, the antagonizing demon on my shoulder whispered, In three… Two… One…

So I did.

I took a simple step back, dropped the match, and walked away as that little flame ignited the track that would set Rome’s world ablaze.

What was dark just ten minutes ago was suddenly brighter than the sun, the entire first floor of the building engulfed in wicked flames and smoke as I made it back to the G Class, and threw myself into the drivers seat.

It’d only be a matter of time before the fire spread and fire department was dispatched, and by then I’d be gone, waiting for peace to take me over.

Peace that unfortunately wouldn’t come any time soon…

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