Page 10 of Obsession

“What we do or don’t do will always be up to you, Maggie.” Hans lifted his face to the skies before looking at Margarete again. “I wish I could give you more. I don’t want to bring you into the shadows to confess my feelings. I don’t want to go home knowing our time is slowly ticking away. Three years. That’s all that remains for us. I loathe knowing that I will have to watch you marry another.” He grabbed her hands, raising them to his mouth and kissing her knuckles. “Some days, I don’t think I’ll make it. It’s like dying a slow death.”

“Hans,” Maggie whispered, pulling her hands from his and cupping his face. “As long as I breathe, I will love you.”

I glanced away, not wanting to be privy to their tender moment. Not because I felt like an interloper but because I wished she’d utter those words to me. Logically, I knew my desires were convoluted and irrational, but I couldn’t help it. Watching Maggie grow into a beautiful young woman withcompassion and kindness had softened the darkest parts of me. Parts that would never belong to anyone but her.

Johannes puffs up his chest and stands in front of Margarete as if trying to shield her from my view.

I’d usually find his chivalry endearing, but it only ignites my ire. “You behaving like a Doberman is cute, especially when we both know you’re nothing more than a scared pup.”

Johannes grits his teeth. “How long have you been watching her?”

Laughter bursts from me as I step toward him, stopping when my chest is flush with his. He flinches but holds his position. I don’t know if he’s standing his ground because of his attraction to me or his need to protect Maggie. Perhaps it’s a bit of both. “Are you jealous because of her or me?”

I know my words are callous. Cruel even. I’m hinting at a secret I have no right to reveal and holding it over Hans’ head. I see the shock in his eyes when they shoot to mine and immediately regret the words summoned by my insecurity and anger.

“What are you talking about?” Margarete asks.

“Nothing,” I say quickly.

Hans closes his eyes and exhales sharply. “It’s not nothing.” He turns to Margarete. “I’ve followed God’s rules and allowed them to control me my whole life.”

Maggie steps in front of Johannes, clasping his hands. “God doesn’t control us. We submit to his rule. He is the one and only creator.”

Her words irritate me—more verbal diarrhea to curb free thinking. Rationally, I know she isn’t to blame for her beliefs. No one is. Thinking outside the box is hard when you’ve lived in an echo chamber repeatedly churning out the same thought processes. Kid gloves are a more productive approach in situations like this, but my emotions get the better of my reason, and my words rush out like a riptide.

“One and only creator, you say. Do you have any idea how many gods exist throughout history? Do you have any notion that the stories you believe to be gospel are copy-paste regurgitation of past tales? Who is to say which version of God is real? The truth is that humans have reconstructed the image of a higher power since the dawn of civilization. There is no such thing as the one and only creator.”

Margarete pierces me with her green eyes. “There is only one true God.”

“Yes, yes, the God of Abraham, a God who birthed three religions. Three groups that couldn’t even agree on the ideals of the Almighty. So these three distinct religions splintered, creating new twigs on the tree. One of those twigs is the little cult you cling to so vehemently.” I wave my hand in the air, already bored with the pending conversation. “I know what they fed you, and unfortunately, your spiritual meal makes me deadly ill.”

Maggie steps back as if I’ve struck her, and I instantly feel like trash.

I move away, walking to the truck. “We gotta go before the search party grows bigger.”

“We aren’t going anywhere with you,” Maggie spits.

I roll my eyes, exasperated. “Neither of you has a phone. No refuge. And I’m confident you lack the funds to last longer than a week. Let’s be clear. If I wanted to hurt either of you, I’ve had ample opportunities over the last fourteen years.” I flick my eyes to Hans. “You might not trust me, Maggie, but I hope you trust Hans. He’ll vouch for me.”

I don’t wait for Hans and Maggie to reply. Opening the cab, I load the truck. I’ve given Margarete the illusion of choice, but I’ll take Hans down, gag her, and put her in the truck if I have to. The idea of using force is repugnant, but there’s no way I’m sending her back there.

Relief washes over me when I hear footsteps behind me.

“Hans,” Maggie pleads. “What about all the warnings about being outside? How do we know he won’t do worse?”

Hans clears his throat. “Because I know him.”

CHAPTER 7

Margarete

We drive in silence, not one word uttered as we sit crushed against each other in the front of Xander’s truck. I force my mind away from the brush of his hand against my thigh and the pull I feel toward him—an attraction that utterly terrifies me. These emotions are fleeting, a reaction to his physical appeal, nothing more. After all, desire is a sin we must bear. Attraction is simply a device used by Satan to veer us from the holy path to God.

Liar. If attraction is a sin, why aren’t you running from the desires evoked by Johannes?

Sensing my worry, Hans gives my hand a reassuring squeeze, his fingers wrapped around mine since we climbed into the truck. I remind myself that he trusts Xander. I attempt a smile to ease his troubles before turning my gaze out the window at the trees zipping past.

I’m unsure how long we’ve been driving, but night gives way to day and settles into night again. The truck finally comes to a halt, and Xander turns off the ignition. He turns to me, his eyes losing their ethereal beauty and adopting a predatory gleam in the dusk. “We’re here.”

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