Page 103 of Brutal Obsession

Bone Breaker.

Right now, my brain’s recovering quicker than the rest of me. My muscle control lags so far behind, I can’t even get my mouth to open.

“Bones are my specialty.” A proud lilt bleeds into his voice. “I break the bones of my enemies. And I take the bones of the people who mean the most to me.”

His proclamation fills me with unwanted, morbid curiosity. Meanwhile, nausea twists my gut.

I pray he stops this unsolicited overshare, before his story time wreaks more havoc on my mental health.

Unsurprisingly, my prayers go unanswered.

“I have quite the collection, actually.” He paces around the stretcher I’m still attached to, coming to stand right over my head. “The bones from my mother’s ring finger. My father’s forehead, his frontal bone. My brother’s left humerus. I broke it once when we were children, so it has sentimental value to me.”

As Enzo lists his collection of human remains, the fear pumping through my system gets strong enough to cut through the drug-induced fog I’m swirling in.

It’s a double-edged sword. The more sober I am, the more possible trying to escape becomes, but also the more the terror rips me to shreds.

Give up,a voice inside me roars.You’re going to die anyway. Don’t fight it. Enjoy the drugs as long as you can. It’ll all be over before you know it.

Other voices plead with me.

They hold up pictures of the people I care about most. My sister. My mom. Bex.

Cian.

“But of all the bones I have, this one is my favorite.” He shows me a white chunk up close, lowering it until the fragment’s only a few inches above my face. “I knew I wanted this one the moment I saw you. The tip of your rib.”

My mind blanks as I struggle to comprehend his meaning. Did he just say,the tip of my rib?

As in, my actual rib?

Hysterical laughter bubbles up in my throat. Well, I guess that would explain the pain in my chest.

“I’ve been most anxious to meet you in person.” He touches the fragment to the skin of my cheek. “You see, I’ve been watching you for such a long time…”

He did it. He really cut off a piece of my rib.

He digs the sharp edge deeper into my soft flesh until my jaw hurts, then he drags it over my lips.

Enzo De Luca is trying to get me to suck the severed tip of my rib that he removed from my body.

Maybe this is a bad acid trip.

He presses the piece of bone to his own lips. His dark, demented eyes go wild as he opens his own mouth and sucks. I’m going to be sick.

“That beautiful rib cage is the first thing I noticed about you.”

I’ve never been so violated. Astounded by the vileness, hypnotized by the gruesomeness, I’m queasy, broken, and defiled beyond redemption.

Numbness spreads through me like ink, blacking out every part of this moment. I must be losing my mind.

Enzo shifts his focus to something I can’t see.

He disappears from my side, and the last thing I hear before a slamming door are the words, “Move her to my upstairs office.”

I’m drifting again.

Darkness. Hanging, industrial lights. Squeaky metal wheels. Straining leather.

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