Page 7 of Unholy Obsession

I clutchmy phone in a white-knuckled grip and stare down at the screen at a text from Anna, my brother’s saint of a fiancée:

ANNA: Come to the club tonight. Domhn and I will be there.

Huh.

I don’t know why Anna is suddenly willing to risk my brother’s wrath by inviting me anywhere, but I’ll take the W.

It’s been a shit week. Ever since I bolted out of that church like a bat out of hell last weekend, I’ve been holed up in my apartment, watching mindless reality TV and subsisting entirely on coffee, stale Pop-Tarts, and regret. I needed to get away the second I sprinted outside those heavy wooden doors, practically diving onto the light rail a couple blocks away the moment it rolled up.

Why the fuck did I thinkthatwas a good idea? Crying in some rando church? Confessing my sins to an impossiblygorgeous man who probably went back to his priestly duties with a sigh of relief that the weird, sobbing sinner left him alone?

I scrub a hand over my face and squeeze my eyes shut.

I used to havemethodsfor dealing with my bullshit. Get an itch? Scratch it. A little fun in the club, or a little reckless adventure, maybe a semi-public fuck, and boom—distraction achieved.

But now? Now, the itch is a wildfire under my skin.

I’ve tried to get satisfaction. Believe me, Itried. I pulled out every trick in the book, not to mention every toy in my arsenal. Let’s just say my best vibrator and I have been in anexclusive relationshipthis past week, and even then—nothing.

That stupidly hot new dom ruined me in just one night after a wholeyearof not being able to come. He woke something up inside me.

And I hate him for it.

Because what the fuck is the point of glimpsing nirvana if you can’t fucking find it again?

I just need to get back to my old self.

And Anna’s invitation has to meansomething, right? A tether to my old life. It’s a sign I’m not completely excommunicated from everyone I love. If Anna’s reaching out, maybe—justmaybe—Domhn’s softening. Maybe this is the first step to him talking to me again, even if he never forgives me.

I stuff my phone in my pocket before I can overthink it and shove out of my car, heading inside the club before I lose my nerve.

One of the new bouncers, Kit, grins at me as I walk up. I wink at him and throw a little bounce in my step. He’s new and still starry-eyed about the place. I gave him a couple welcome rides when he started; he’s not bad, just nothing to write home about.

“Miss me?” I tease, trailing a finger down his arm as I pass.

“Always,” he grins at me. Men are simple creatures.

Inside, the thrum of bass vibrates through my bones, the music sinking into my skin like a second heartbeat.

And then I spot everyone. For the first time all week, the weight in my chest eases. The whole gang’s here. Is it weird that we hang out just tohangin the lounge of a BDSM sex club? I’ve obviously never given a shit about weird in my whole life, so no.

I should kiss Anna for inviting me. If she weren’t already head-over-heels for my brother, I’d consider it. She’s hot and a little nuts, so we have that in common. She’s got DID—dissociative identity disorder. Anna’s cool and all, but I gotta say, her alter, Mads, is areallyfun time.

I weave through the crowd toward our usual lounge area, past familiar faces and whispered greetings.

I slide into the seat beside Kira and immediately clock the situation with her bodyguard, Isaak. She’s been having stalker problems, and Isaak’s just started a security firm, so he took the case.

But the way his arm is draped possessively over the back of her chair? It’s giving more than just bodyguard vibes. His whole body is turned toward her like he’s got some primal need to keep everyone else the fuck away.

I arch a brow at him. He rolls his eyes.

Interesting.

“Moira!” Kira leans in and hugs me like she actually means it.

I squeeze her tight, trying to ignore how good the human contact feels.

I let her go before I do something weird like burrow into her shoulder like a cat in need of warmth. “How’s life, darling?” I wiggle my brows, flicking a glance at Isaac.

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