Page 17 of Red Obsession

“Did you find everything okay?” he asks, eyeing me.

“We did, thanks,” she answers him, stepping closer to me. I’m unsure if she’s doing it because she’s uncomfortable around him or for some unknown reason. But I might as well take it and run. Slipping a hand around her waist, I narrow my eyes at him. Why does this feel as if I’m marking my territory.

“Uh, your total is forty-three even.”

Handing him a fifty, I don’t bother with the change. I grab the bag and Izel’s hand and drag her out. The logical part of my brain must be shut off because I have no reason for the way I’m acting. But I’m becoming obsessed with her.

“Z, you gotta stop.” Except I don’t. I walk faster, and not until we’re at my truck do I finally look down at her. “Alright, we need to talk,” she huffs.

Raising a brow, I wait for her to continue.

“Well, not out here in the open,” she says throwing her hands in the air.

Only once I’ve helped her up, and gotten myself situated, does Izel turn her body towards me and say, “I need you to help me out here.”

“What?”

“One minute you’re acting as though you can’t get rid of me fast enough. You ignore me most of the time. I mean, we’ve established I talk a lot. And I’ve tried to keep that to a minimum because of the fact you apparently can’t stand me. But you also can’t be holding my hand and dragging me. I mean, come on, you’re a big dude. Twice the size of me, literally. I have short little legs, and I had to run just to keep up with you. And you didn’t even realize I was close to falling with you dragging me!” I’m sure she just stopped talking because she ran out of air.

Letting out a breath, I open my mouth to tell her I don’t ignore her, when I realize that’s exactly what I do. Since the beginning, I’ve been ignoring her.I’ve been trying my damnedest to ignore her presence, give her the bare minimum, because of this growing obsession inside me. It’s slowly becoming unbearable. The idea of someone hurting her ignites something inside me. I want to ask what Zander did to her just so I can figure a way to bring him back and kill him again.

“We’ve got about twelve hours left before you get rid of me. Then you can go back to your life, Z, so can we just, I don’t know, talk? Get along? Can you please just stop ignoring me?” Rolling her eyes, she swings her legs over to the door, turning her body away from me.I swear if she starts crying that’ll be the end of me. I can’t handle women crying. Call it a weakness of mine, I don’t care. But if she starts crying? I’m done for, I’ll lose my mind.

“Don’t call me that.”

“What?”

Grinding my molars, I debate on ignoring her and just driving away. Or telling her that I hate her calling me Z. It’s what everyone calls me but coming out of her mouth, it’s foul, it’s… wrong coming from her.

But she needs me to stop ignoring her, and I’m barely holding on myself.

“I… like when you call me Zion.”

Confusion crosses her face and for a minute she stares at me. I’m not one that gets uncomfortable by anything, yet her eyes unsettle me. It’s maddening, odd, and warms my heart.

“Okay, Zion. Let’s make a deal. For the next twelve hours, we talk. Which includes you, not just me speaking. I want to hear that voice of yours. And then we can go our separate ways.”

I don’t want to make that deal with her, because I know I won’t be able to leave once I get her to where she needs to go. I won’t be able to stand not being near her. I found her three days ago, and now she's buried her way into my chest, burrowed her way into my skin. She’s a damn drug, a talkative one, nonetheless.

But she’s mine.

The odd thought dawns on me that this girl could be mine. No, not could be, she is mine.

Mine.

So, as I stare at her, and she smiles, I don’t stop myself from saying, “Deal.”

Because I know once we get there, I’m not leaving. She won't escape me.

6

Izel

“I’llbefine,”Itell Zion for the millionth time. And for the millionth time Zion says nothing. But I can hear his fingers tightening on the steering wheel, and I can practically hear him growling. I mean I doubt he’s growling, he’s not an animal. But he might as well be a giraffe, or maybe bigfoot.

“Are you going to say anything?” I squint my eyes. And though he can’t see them because he’s focusing on the road. I feel much better, even when I’m imagining smacking him in his gigantic head.

I don’t even know why I keep telling him I’ll be fine. He hasn’t even asked what I’ll be fine from. And though I’m upset about him not asking, I’m not sure if I can tell him the truth. Not that he even cares to ask.

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