Page 41 of Obsession

“What’s good?” I’m getting frustrated with this conversation, my heels tapping on the floor, my body looking for any way to release the anxiety that’s building up.

“You care for him,” he states, matter of fact.

“I don’t-”

“It’s not a bad thing, Madi,” Roman cuts me off. “If you care for him, maybe he cares for you too. And if he wants to help end this war for you, even better.”

“Adrian can’t end this war!” I throw my hands down, hitting my hips with a slap.

“No,” he agrees. “But he can get Sam out of prison, and Sam can end this war.”

The opening of my front door ends Roman’s sentence. Adrian comes through the threshold with a limp, holding his left arm to his chest. There’s blood seeping down the side of his face from a gash at his hairline. The way he’s holding himself tells me he’s in pain.

He looks at Roman and then to me. An exhale leaves his body, and his face seems relieved to see me, a fact that surprises me. Even more surprising is the realization that I’m also relieved to see him.

I don’t love him. I hate my husband.

But seeing him dripping with blood has my stomach wound up in knots.

“I’ll get a first aid kit,” I tell him, rushing off. I’m positive I saw one in the downstairs bathroom, and I run over to grab it.

“I’ll be watching,” I hear Roman tell Adrian, patting him on the shoulder before leaving. Adrian watches him leave, and when I return to the living room, he’s bolting the door behind him.

“What did they do to you?” I ask, ushering him to the couch. He winces as he sits down, his back leaning against the plush velvet.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine.” He tries to shoo me off.

“Shut up,” I say, barely refraining from rolling my eyes. He recoils when I bring the wet washcloth to his forehead, pressing it over the wound. “Where all are you hurt?”

“Madi, I’m fine. Honestly.”

“You’re a liar,” I spit at him. “Just tell me so I can help you.”

He stills at that statement, his head turning slightly so he can look at my face. His dark brown eyes search mine.

“I was worried about you,” I whisper, surprising myself with the admission.

“I’m sorry,” he says genuinely. “I was worried about you too,” he adds with a heavy breath. “When I couldn’t get ahold of Rocky, and then you weren’t answering your texts…” he trails off, closing his eyes, as if he’s trying to hold in his feelings. “I was afraid something happened.”

Something swells in my chest. “I didn’t realize he—Rocky, I mean—I didn’t realize he was gone, to be honest. I guess I’ve gotten good at ignoring my enforcers. When you came to the bar, then-”

“I had been looking for you.”

It’s not that big of a deal,I try to tell myself. I’m basically his property, the investment he made for his future. Of course he was looking for me. If I die on his watch, my family would be pissed. That’s it. That’s the only reason he cares.

“When you weren’t responding to my texts, I started to spiral.”

“Sam would never hurt me,” I tell him.

“No,” he nods, agreeing with me. “I guess not. But…there are others who would. People who would use you as an opportunity.”

“What do you mean?”

He moves his elbows to his knees, exhaling with a groan.

“Adrian, you’re hurt. Should I take you somewhere?”

“No.” He waves a hand towards me. “No hospitals.”

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