Page 131 of Distorted Obsession

“Fuck,” I shout as sharp pain shoots through my skull. It’s enough to make me realize that my brain is warning me away from whatever mental block I’ve erected.

Standing is much harder this time, but I manage to finish in the bathroom before I enter Colt’s room in search of my stuff. I’m sure I didn’t inform my friends I was no longer coming, and I’m more than certain they’re worried about my radio silence.

I search everywhere, but come up empty. So, I look in Coop’s room before I go downstairs and spot it on the table.

Snatching up my phone, I see too many missed calls to even count. I immediately call Jade.

“Where the fuck have you been, Eva Rose Pierce. We were ten minutes away from calling the cops and sending out a search party.”

She’s pissed—rightfully so.

Pulling the phone from my ear, I see that it’s nearly midnight. “I’m sorry. I fell asleep, and I’m just waking up,” I inform her, hoping it’ll soften another mysterious disappearance.

“This is well past habitual, Eva,” Jade scolds. “You can’t keep doing this. It’s not fucking safe.”

“I kn?—”

“Don’t even give me the I know and I’m sorry bullshit line,” Jade barks and I swear I can see the steam shooting from her red ears from where I stand in the Jacobi’s kitchen. “Now, where the hell are you?”

Sighing, I reply, “I’m on campus, but I need to wait for an Uber to drive me back to the dorm.”

There’s a beat of silence, frustrated breathing the only sound that can be heard through the phone. “That didn’t answer my question.”

“Yes, it did,” I retort, knowing good and well I’m being purposely obtuse. Before she can lecture me longer, I blurt, “See you in twenty.” Then I end the call before she can get another word in.

After I gather my things and schedule a pick-up, I write out a quick note to the guys while I wait for my ride. I know that if I call or text, I won’t be leaving here tonight. It’s happened one too many times.

The notification pops up on my cell that my driver has arrived. I lock up and then slip into the back of the car. The ride over is quiet, with neither the driver nor I engaging in mindless chatter, but my thoughts are screaming so loudly.

Shaking off my worry, I thank the driver, dash inside, and up the stairs before entering my suite. I sigh in relief when I see that the lights are off and nobody’s waiting to confront me. I don’t have the energy to be confronted by anyone.

My shoulders sag in relief once I enter my bedroom. I can already hear my bed calling my name.

I flick on the light and freeze, forgetting the pain, my mouth drops open, and my eyes bulge.

“How… how could this happen?” I hear the brokenness in my voice.

Dropping to my knees, I scramble to gather all the feathers and navy fabric off the floor. Tears free-fall, cascading down my face, at the realization that Farrah’s throw pillows have been eviscerated. There’s no putting them back together.

“Who would do this?” I ask the universe, but am met with silence.

Karma.

My brain has no qualms about answering me coldly.

Feathers blanket my room, but it’s the pile on my bed covered in a red substance that forces me to my feet. I wobble, my legs unsteady like a newborn fawn as I make my way to the bed, praying my eyes are playing tricks on me. But they aren’t.

In the middle of my bed, on top of a pile of feathers, is a human heart. It appears fresh or at least well preserved. I stop breathing, my world spinning off its axis, when I notice a noteneatly written on cardstock paper. I swallow past the lump in my throat, bending and picking it up.

You had her in your heart, so I took it.

Your heart can only be mine.

Gagging, I drop the note, inferring instantly whose heart this person means.

Fah.

Unable to hold back, I throw up where I stand until there’s nothing left but bile.

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