Page 18 of Red Obsession

“My mouth hurts,” he mutters. He has been talking a lot more than I’m sure he’s done in the past. After we made that “deal,” I fired questions at him. Granted they were good questions; they weren’t the ones I really want to ask. Like why he always wears a mask. Sure, he wants to hide his identity, but I don’t really care who he is. Why had he saved me from the Devil’s cage? It couldn’t have just been because the girl I let out was a friend of his. Friends don’t just do that out of the goodness of their heart. And more importantly, why is he willing to take me across the country?

I’m a stranger to him. I’m no one and I’m nothing. So why is he suddenly okay with driving from North Carolina all the way to Colorado?

I did learn he hates TV shows and movies. He’s never eaten a vegetable he likes, and he also hates anything sweet. Which is horrendous sounding to me, someone who literally needs sweets to survive. I mean, at least a cup of sugar in my coffee and most likely half the container of cream. I have a terrible sweet tooth as Gabriel likes to say.

Like now, a bag of Skittles sits in my lap as I munch down on them. It calms my nerves.

But,even thinking of Gabriel causes my heart to beat in an ungodly fast way. I’m worried it might be too late. But I also feel like I would know if it was. Gabriel is smart. Even if he can’t be where we agreed to meet up if we ever got lost, I’ll find him.

I have to.

“Of course.” I sighed under my breath, bringing myself back to our conversation that is dying out.

“What was that?” I could hear the hint of laughter in his voice, which is the only indication that he isn’t serious. Something I’ve learned about Zion in the short few days—he’s too serious. I don’t know what the deal with the mask is, but when I told him his vibe was good, I wasn’t lying.

I get good vibes from him. Even when I was locked away with a collar around my neck, I knew somehow deep down he wasn’t there to hurt me.

Not like when the Devil grabbed me.

Then I knew something was wrong, besides the fact I knew why he was coming after me. The Devil was a vile man, and someone who was your prime definition of scum.

Zion is not that.

Zion is… caring.

He saved me from that basement for one, and then the bus station, even if some drunk guy had followed me. Zion had shown up like some prince charming, except he isn’t exactly a prince. He is more of the villain. But a good villain.

I hadn’t lied to him when I said he wasn’t the worst monster I’ve been around.

I am a product of a monster. I was raised by monsters, and Zion is very far from one.

He is my angel. Because even Lucifer was an angel once.

“You vile bitch!” I can hear something crash and glass shatters in the next room. I can hear his stomps, and something else breaks. “Where is she?” he screams. My body shakes as I creep against the wall. I already know what’s to come. This wall won’t protect me, but I can act as though it does.The little hope that I’ll stay hidden.

The door slams open to Devil, the monster who likes to take pleasure in beating me. Dark spots cover his clothing. They’re always covering his clothes.

“Get over here,” he growls, his voice hardening as he sees my small frame crouched down. I don’t want to go near him, but I have no choice. He’s already mad and I know he won’t take it easy on me.

I knew this was going to happen, but that didn’t stop me.

I let her out.

She could barely walk, but I couldn’t stand by as he carved into her. I couldn’t watch as he screamed at her, cut her. I couldn’t not do anything.

So even though I don’t want to move, I do.

“Where is she?” Devil screams the moment I’m in front of him, his face inches from my own. I can smell the whiskey on his breath, the cigarettes lingering on his skin and clothes.

“I’m not telling you,” I grit back. I want to spit at his face, but from the lack of water or food for that matter, I barely have saliva left.

Pain radiates through my body causing me to shake, not from the fear he is trying to insert. I wouldn’t be scared of him. Even if I was facing death, at least Gabby would survive.

“I can do this all night,” he slurs. “I’m in the giving mood tonight, so I’ll ask once mor–”

“I’m not telling you!” I growl. His fist was unforgiving that night. My body was black and blue, but at least she was safe.

She would be okay.

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