Page 28 of Dangerous Obsession

The camera pans to another man whose face shocks me to my core. My father stands behind a podium, red-faced and tears in his eyes. “My daughter Willow Akers went missing twelve years ago. I then, as I do now, plead for her safe return. I believe the case of Reba Sanders is directly connected to the disappearance of my daughter Willow. I believe Willow was forced to assume a new identity back then and may have been forced into a horrific situation.” He pinches his nose and shakes his head then says, “If you have any information regarding this case, please call the number on your screen. There is now a two-hundred-fifty-thousand-dollar reward.”

The broadcast shifts back to the newsroom where the news anchors move on to another story but I am left shocked and speechless. I push myself up to a seated position and my shoulders sink. My entire life is unraveling and there is nothing I can do to stop it. The very fact that my father knows I’m alive both thrills me and terrifies me. Alexsi will kill us both.

My hands shake and I feel like I’ll be sick. This means my father will be searching for me now. He’ll have my face plastered everywhere, and everyone will recognize me. That’s both encouraging and scary because if the people who recognize me are loyal to Alexsi or the Italians, I’ll never see my father again. Alexsi’s men may get to my father and kill him before he can find me anyway. But if I find him first, go to the station and beg him to help me flee the city, we can both be safe. I can be with him again.

The thought swirls in my mind and I realize I’m crying. Warm tears sluice down my cheeks. I swipe them away and head for the stairs. I don’t want to cry in front of Leo again. He doesn’t seem to have much sympathy for my heartbreak. He’s a machine, pushing all emotion away to endure what life throws at him. I’m not so strong. I just want to feel safe and loved.

I tiptoe up the stairs and shut myself into the bathroom and let the tears fall. It isn’t like I haven’t seen my father’s face in years. I’ve seen him do press releases on varying cases he’s had, and I have photos of him. He’s remarried now, has a fifteen-year-old stepdaughter. I get jealous when I think of how he probably goes to watch her choir concerts and soccer games. I want my father to be my father again, and not some TV personality who knows nothing of Reba Sanders and her art.

“Willow?” Leo calls, and I know he’s going to just barge right in here. I quickly pull my panties down and sit on the toilet. I don’t have to pee, but he doesn’t know that. I tuck my chin to my chest, letting my hair fall around my face, and hope he just assumes I’m using the shitter and leaves.

“On the toilet!” I call, my voice shaking a little. Hiding emotion is my greatest weakness. I’m a fucking empath and I have no poker face for this moment. The door swings open and Leo leans against the door jamb.

“Did you see that news report?” he asks. I keep my head down, trying to not let him see my face, but his firmly planted feet tell me he is not moving. He’s just going to stand here while I pretend to shit and watch me.

“Excuse me? I’m on the toilet.” Snot runs down the inside of my nose and it’s all I can do to keep myself from sniffling. I want to wipe it away, but that will be a dead giveaway that I’ve been crying, so I clench my jaw and will the snot to stay in my nose where it belongs.

“Yeah, I guess the gallery guy reported you missing… Your dad was on TV too, three different channels.”

“Can I shit in peace?” I snap, feeling emotion welling up again. My body involuntarily tenses and I sniffle.

“Are you crying?” he asks, stepping into the room farther.

I sigh and look up at him. “Yes, I’m crying. Okay? I’m a woman. I have emotions. I cry sometimes.” I’ve had enough of this charade. I stand and pull my panties up then grab a wad of toilet paper and wipe my face and blow my nose.

Leo stares at me like I’m on exhibit while I clean myself up and toss the dirty tissues in the toilet and flush it. I walk out of the bathroom, heading to the bedroom I’ve been using. No—I haven’t been sleeping in the same bed as him. There are times where I feel like I want to, but I have no future with him anyway. I can’t let my heart get attached. I have to keep the pain of him deserting me fresh in my mind or I will catch deeper feelings for him again.”

"So you did see it?”

There he goes, focusing on the facts instead of the emotions. I swear this man is a robot. He can’t feel a fucking thing. It’s like he was a military trained soldier or something, deprogrammed in his amygdala to shut down any feelings other than rage and revenge. He follows me into the bedroom and I swing the door shut, but it bounces off his foot and doesn’t shut.

“Go away,” I shout, picking a pillow up and throwing it at him. He catches it and throws it back onto the bed.

“What the hell? You had to know this was going to happen.” He glares at me like I’m the problem. I want to kick him in the nuts.

“How would I know that? Huh? And now that my face is out there, my real identity, your father is going to keep his promise to kill me and my father.”

Leo shakes his head. “I’m not letting him harm you.”

“What about my dad, Leo? Are you going to let him kill my father? Because you know what will happen. The police will follow the string of clues. They’ll connect me to you. They’ll place me at your father’s house, Sven’s house… Then what? Then my father really will go after yours. Then he really will be killed.”

I sob harder, throwing myself onto my bed as my verbal acknowledgement of what could actually happen begins to sink in. This entire thing should never have happened.

“Look, I can’t protect your father, but maybe he’ll lay off.”

I sit straight up, infuriated, and launch another pillow at him. It smacks him in the face. He doesn’t even attempt to knock it down. He stares at me with an unenthusiastic face. “This is all your fucking fault.” I come off that bed swinging, slamming my fists into his arms and chest.

“Woah, I saved your life, Willow. This isn’t my fault.” He grabs my wrists after a little difficulty, and I use my feet. Kicking his shins until my toes hurt.

“It is. You fucking micromanaged my life so badly, I’d date any man who looked at me once. Yeah, ten years ago maybe my radar would have gone off when that Italian asked me for coffee. I’d have seen he was shady and told him no. But I was so fucking starved for attention and affection, that I jumped on the first man who looked at me. So it’s your fault.”

“Fuck you!” I scream and then spit in his face. He lets me go, wiping the spit away. “Just fuck you.” Turning, I climb back on the bed and curl into a ball, facing away from him. I can just see a few birds flying in the sky out the window. It makes me want to pray to god that I could be a bird and fly away too.

“You’ll see that this was always meant to be, Willow.”

Leo leaves me alone, shutting the door behind him. I hear a lock engage and realize he probably locked me in here too. Good. I don’t want him around me right now. I’ll just stay here until I starve to death or die of dehydration. One or the other.

I cry for a long time, using the corner of the sheet to wipe my eyes. I cry so hard I can’t breathe. I have to take the shirt off to use it like a tissue and blow my nose because there are no tissues in here. When I’ve almost exhausted myself and feel like I could fall asleep from the weight of emotion, I notice the bottle of sleeping pills on my nightstand. Leo ordered them for me last week when I couldn’t sleep, and the grocery delivery service brought them the same day.

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