Page 85 of Corrupt Obsession

“You’re right. I don’t hate you.” For just a moment, she saw hope flash in his eyes before she finished, “I feel nothing for you at all.”

He didn’t move a muscle, but the hairs on her arms stood up as something evil and inhuman stared out of Jesse’s eyes. She got her first glimpse of the demon that lurked within him the day Jesse took her by the river. Recently, she’d begun to see him more frequently, as Jesse was ruled by his lustful appetites. The demon that used to possess him at night was now visible in broad daylight. He and Jesse were now one.

“I really tried, Violet,” Jesse said ruefully, lips curved in a mocking smile as his eyes burned with wrath. “I tried for you, but I guess it wasn’t good enough.”

She clutched the door handle, heart pumping, as he cocked his head, examining her clinically.

“Telling a monster you feel nothing for him isn’t very smart,” he pointed out.

She stopped breathing.

“It gives him no incentive not to act like one.”

Even as he reached for her, she shoved the door open and fell out of the truck. This was all horrifically familiar, but this time, she knew what he was capable of. Even as she scrambled to her feet and reached for her backpack to grab her cell phone, he slid across the seat after her.

For a split second, she considered trying to reason with him, but a glimpse of the bloodlust carved into his face convinced her fleeing was her only option. She plunged into the field of bluebonnets, her aim the lone farmhouse in the distance. She waved her hands, hoping someone was looking out of the window and would realize something was terribly wrong. She would have screamed in hopes that anyone within earshot would come to the rescue, but she didn’t have time to haul in a breath when she could hear him gaining ground behind her. He was an athlete. Strong, fast. She would never make it.

Even as the thought crossed through her mind, Jesse tackled her from behind. The impact sent her sprawling in a patch offluffy bluebonnets that cushioned her fall. She scrambled on her hands and feet, trying to get away. When Jesse hauled her back, Dad’s training kicked in. She balled her fist and swung with all her might. Jesse dropped like a stone when she punched him in the ear.

Breath ragged, she continued on. As she stumbled through the wildflowers, she glanced back at the road. Her stomach lurched when she realized how far away she was. The farmhouse was her only hope. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jesse straighten. Panic gave her extra strength. She ran full out, faster than she ever had. It was life or death. She could do this.

She was close enough now to make out more details of the house. The porch had a swing and pots of pink and yellow flowers. Whoever lived there was a good person. They would help her if they were home.God, please help me, she begged.Prove Jesse wrong. Save me. If You do, I swear I’ll… she was struck down again before she could strike a bargain with God.

Jesse took the brunt of the fall and this time, kept his arms around her instead of knocking her off balance. They rolled. He pinned her clawed hand to the ground and leaned over her, gold cross swinging. His eyes were alight. She would never forget the strange formation of clouds dotting the sky, being hemmed in by cheery bluebonnets, and the look on Jesse’s face as he looked down at her.

Time stopped.

“Jesse?” she panted.

He leaned down, kissed her forehead, and murmured, “Lord, forgive me for what I’m about to do.”

Violet layon a bed of crushed wildflowers. She was naked. She knew that should bother her, but she couldn’t find the will to care. Nothing mattered. Not anymore.

A figure appeared in her line of sight. She didn’t bother focusing on Jesse. Instead, she admired a cloud that resembled an elephant head. That was more interesting than anything Jesse had to say. She hadn’t been honest when she said she didn’t feel anything for him, but it had been a self-fulfilling prophecy because now she really didn’t. He’d given her glimpses of the monster within, but he proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that her brother was truly gone. They could never go back to what they’d been. Ever.

Jesse pulled her into a sitting position so he could slip a shirt over her head. Gently, he pulled her to her feet. The shirt was so large, it covered her to mid-thigh. When he crouched to pick her up, she hung lifelessly over his shoulder and spotted her torn peach-colored sweater and stained jeans clutched in his hand. She closed her eyes as her stomach rocked.

Her head spun as he settled her in the passenger seat of the truck. Automatically, she pulled the seatbelt across her chest and clicked it in. She pressed her feet together, noting that she was missing a sock. She stared down the dirt road that hadn’t brought one car across their path.

Jesse opened the glove box in front of her and pulled out one of Dad’s red paisley bandanas. He splashed it with water before he began to clean her face. His hands were trembling, and although he was talking, it sounded like gibberish to her. She couldn’t hear anything over the echoes of her piercing screams ricocheting around in her head, interspersed with static. If she had the will to speak, she would have asked him for water to rinse out the taste of blood, semen, and dirt in her mouth. Instead, she let him scrub her face until he gave up and rounded the truck to climb into the driver’s seat.

The moment the truck began to move, she deflated, closing her eyes and slumping against the door. It seemed that she closed her eyes for a minute. When she opened them, Jesse was tugging her out of the truck, into a pit. She flailed before her eyes adjusted and she recognized their surroundings. They were in their garage with the door already down, which is why it was so dark. Her sluggish heart leapt.

“Dad’s not home,” Jesse murmured as he toted her into the house.

She had a feeling of déjà vu as he placed her in the tub. This time, she wasn’t shellshocked and heartbroken. She was coherent and functional, but her emotions had been switched off. She was grateful.

In contrast, Jesse fluttered around her, his unshakeable poise, gone. His face was drawn and the glassy horror in his blue eyes warmed her because this time it was he who was rattled. He manically scrubbed her down and seemed obsessed with cleaning every nook and cranny, even cleaning inside her ears like she was a child.

When he tried to dress her in a nightgown, she reached for jeans and a top.

“Violet.”

“I’m going to school.”

He said nothing, just stood there in jeans and nothing else.

“You don’t have to take me,” she said.

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