Page 18 of Obsessive Stalker

He either expected for me to return for her all along…or he planned to make her vanish either way, framing me as the cause.

That’s why he demanded that I change her identity, that we make her “disappear” as one of the terms of our agreement. I agreed reluctantly and will never forget the sickening grin he gave me in reply. Will never forget his words, that we’re “cut from the same cloth.”

If only he knew how wrong he was. Then he might have been able to prevent his inevitable death at my hands.

Because no man will speak about my girl in that way and live to tell the tale.

I don’t care if he’s her father, I wouldn’t care if he was her brother or her husband or her dearest, oldest best friend.

He was dead as soon as he revealed to me who he really is.

A weak man, a gambling addict who would rather sell his own daughters than be held accountable for his actions go to some white collar resort prison for a few months and be released early like all men of his type do.

No. That would require sacrifice on his part. It would require taking responsibility, doing the right thing, and most importantly, being a protective shield over Kristen and her sisters rather than the thing they need protecting from.

Kristen isn’t the only one he’s got his eye on. There are new life insurance policies on all three sisters, one after the other, as though he bought the one for Kristen and then tacked on the other two for good measure.

I came home ready to explain all of this to Kristen, but she’s not in a state to hear all of this now. I realize I haven’t seen her cry before. All this time, she’s held strong. Now she looks broken, and it’s because of me. My actions, my hands.

The doctor numbs the area and disinfects the cut before stitching it up.

“It’s deep,” he warns me before he leaves. “Thankfully, no tendons were reached, but healing will be uncomfortable.”

I listen to his aftercare instructions from the corner of the bedroom while Kristen watches from the bed, sitting with her hand in a bandage and a hollow look in her eyes. When he leaves, she speaks.

“I thought doctors took some kind of oath,” she says. “Aren’t they supposed to do no harm?”

Shaking my head, I go to the bed. She doesn’t recoil, but watches me warily, her arms crossed over her chest, over the terrycloth robe that’s wrapped tightly around her body now.

“Was today your last escape attempt?” I ask her.

She shrugs.

“What do you want me to do?” she whispers. “Just accept this? Accept being kidnapped, being forced to marry you?”

“That’s exactly what I want you to do,” I reply.

“As soon as you let your guard down,” she continues. “As soon as you turn your back or loosen up, I’ll try again. You have to know that. You have to know that this marriage will never be anything more than what it is now.”

I reach for her and once again she doesn’t recoil. Taking her hand in mine, I interlace our fingers and cradle her hand in my other palm.

“What if this is for the best?” I ask her.

“What do you mean?”

“Would you believe me if I told you that being with me is the safest place for you right now?” I ask her quietly.

“No,” she replies immediately.

I look at her.

“And even if that were true,” she continues, her brown eyes staring into mine. “I deserve the freedom to choose where I am. Whether I choose a safe place or not. That should be up to me.”

I shake my head.

“It stopped being up to you the moment I saw you,” I say to her. “When I say that you belong to me, I mean it. I’ll keep you safe no matter what it takes.”

“Kidnapping me is about keeping me safe?” she asks.

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