Page 1 of Red Obsession

Prologue

Izel

“Idon’twanttoleave you,” Gabriel begs me, tears streaming down his face. His hands grip onto my wrist, pleading with me. “Please don’t.” His eyes close causing another round of tears to fall. His blue eyes vibrate from crying, trying to shake his shaggy dark blond hair from his face, but nothing works.

“I’ll be okay,” I whisper. Did I want to leave? No. But it was the only way to save him, and I swore on everything I would protect him. I will protect him. “I’ll be okay,” I tell him again, trying my best to sound convincing. But I’m a shit liar and we both know it.

“We can run together; I can be fast.”

“Gabby, we both know you’re faster than me. You’ve always been fast, but I need to get them away from you.” The last thing we needed was for Dan's men to find us. It wouldn’t end well for either of us. Especially Gabby. I wouldn’t let them touch him, so if I had to sacrifice myself, I would.

I would do anything for him.

“I don’t like this,” he mumbles, finally releasing my wrist. Trying to hide the wince, I give him a smile.

“Trust me?” I ask.

“Always.”

“Good, now hide. Don’t come out until I come back for you, and if it’s not me, hit them.” Looking down at my feet, I snatch up the bat. “With this.”

Grabbing the backpack, I sling it over my shoulders, giving Gabriel a glance over. Hoping this isn’t the last time I see him. This couldn’t be the last time.

I smile once more, squeezing his arm.

“Love you,” I whisper.

“I love you,” he murmurs back.

I wait while he hides in a small hole in the wall before turning around and running into the forest, running for my life.

Because I might as well be.

1

Zion

Zander'sdeadbodywasfresh from the smell of it. His blood and brain matter were splattered across the tile flooring and cabinets and shit, even the ceiling. Glancing down over his body, I smirk at my dead friend. What a shame. I haven’t seen him in ten years, two years before I even left that god awful town.

Nudging his body with my foot, I question what’s wrong with me. To think that an old friend being dead is funny. But you don’t torture and kill people with a heart; you learn to turn it off. To turn off the emot—

A faint rattle breaks me from my thoughts.

“I need to give you an address and have you check it out. Aziza said there was a girl there in the basement, someone who helped her escape. I need you to take care of her.”

Right, there was a girl here who I needed to take care of. But not kill, even though that’s what I did. Instead of being the monster I am, I was supposed to save some girl that was trapped here. Somewhere.

Turning on my heel, I search around the living room. Only finding a couch that clearly has seen better days. Besides dust, there is nothing, just a musty smell and Zander's rotting body.

Just as I pass another door, the faint rattle happens again, only this time it’s a bit louder. Opening the door, I peek inside finding a set of stairs leading down. I may be a hitman, someone who can kill anyone almost a hundred different ways. But basements, they give me the creeps.

Shaking my head, I head down the stairs. Just as I reach the cement floor, the rattle is much louder, and that female voice is cursing up a storm. My eyes drag to a set of two tables with chains, blood covering both. Filth everywhere, empty liquor bottles, trash. And that godawful fucking stench. If my nose wasn’t so used to the foul smell of bodily functions, I’d probably be in tears and trying to shove tissues into my nose.

“Come on, you little balls.” That woman's voices strains, more clicking sounds coming from further in the room.

Following the sounds of metal, I stop mid-step. My stomach turns at the sight of her, kneeling, a long chain attached to the collar around her neck. I can’t tell anything about her from the amount of dirt, blood, and absolute filth that covers her bare skin, scraps of clothing barely covering her.

“Wow, you’re big,” she mutters, yanking on the collar again. “Don’t imagine you got a key on ya?” she asks, staring at me, only her eyes aren’t looking around like most do. Instead, she looks directly into my eye.

---