Page 165 of Unholy Obsession

She exhales and shakes her head, then looks away. “Not that it matters if you like me anymore, I guess. I’m just here for paperwork.”

And that? That’s what makes me snap.

I grip the armrest between us and lean in, my voice low and razor-sharp. “You think I’m dragging you across the fucking ocean forpaperwork?”

She doesn’t answer. Doesn’t blink. She just holds my gaze, so fucking steady and unshaken.

Then she shifts, stretching her legs out and rolling her neck like she’s settling into a throne instead of a seat. She lets her gaze wander the cabin—across the sleek walnut bar, the plush recliners, the gleaming brass light fixtures—and then, without looking at me, she says, “You must like having nice things now that you’re rich again.”

I don’t take the bait. Because the truth is, I don’t give a fuck about the money, the jet, the legacy. None of it means anything.

She’s the only thing I ever wanted.

And for the first time since I met Moira Blackwood,Iam the one unraveling.

I stare at the woman in front of me and wonder if I ever really knew her at all.

FIFTY-NINE

MOIRA

Dear Journal,

I’m on the fanciest fucking plane I’ve ever ridden, and Bane just slipped into the seat beside me.

What do I feel???

Not gray. That’s for damn sure. All I’ve felt for weeks since I started those dumb meds is gray—fucking gray. I hate fucking gray. At least I did.

But now Bane’s back. A burst of red.

I see it in his eyes. He wants something from me.

But I’m afraid.

Fear feels like blue—the blue-black of a bruise.

I’m not an idiot. I see the lust. The want.

But what if he wants something I can’t give him anymore?

Everybody loves the bouncy, shiny girl.

The shadowed, sad girl—I’ve always tried to tuck her away.

Hide in the cabinet. Cower down. Mam’s fucking again. Hide in the cabinet. Put your sad thoughts away there, too. Just a crack of light in the cabinet-dark.

Men wanted Mam for an hour or two at a time.

Domhn had friends at school—or at least people who respected him and wanted to be like him.

No one wants you.

Bruise blue girl.

Petals plucked, one by one.

Who’s going to want you now?

---