Page 36 of Distorted Obsession

He huffs a laugh, rubbing the back of his head, almost identical to the way Liam had. I’d swear they were twins if he weren’t taller and had tawny skin.

We both stand, surveying each other for another moment before he finally breaks the silence. “Mason.” He holds out his hand, and I take it.

“Eva.”

A toothy grin appears on his face. “You look familiar. Have we met before?” Mason inquires.

“Um,” I bite my lip. “We crashed into each other last week.”

He laughs, mirth filling his features. “Ah, that’s right. I’m not sure how I didn’t remember that without any prompting. You’re not a face one forgets.”

Not used to this much attention, a blush creeps up onto my cheeks.

“Mase.”

“Liam?”

Fuck, they know each other. I internally groan when I hear Liam approaching.

“What are you doing here?” Liam questions.

“Heading to the food court,” Mason explains.

Refusing to engage with Liam any further, I announce, “I’ll see you later, Mason.” Then I excuse myself, increasing my pace before either guy can ask me to wait.

I don’t stop walking until I’m in front of my dorm. My hand wraps around the door handle as I work to process the events of the past few days.

The party…

Being drenched in pig’s blood as someone accuses me of murdering my best friend…

The kiss of a blade against my skin, offering sweet bliss…

Farrah’s cries for help…

My throat tightens as the hairs on my arm rise. The warning signs of a looming panic attack threaten to hold me where I stand—a bead of sweat rolls down the spine of my heated skin.

Not now, Eva.

Paralyzed, I’m helpless against the fear crawling over my skin like bugs.

No, Eva. Breathe.

I try to get my brain to connect to my lungs.

Breathe…

Breathe…

Fuck-ing breathe.

Nothing’s working. I can feel the sweat trickle down my back, the cool air alerting me to how damp my shirt must be. But, I’m stuck. My limbs will not follow my command.

“Excuse me,” a soft voice requests, jolting me from my thoughts just when I think I’ll pass out. My body finally obeys, and I move, twisting to see a petite girl with fire-red hair and emerald eyes holding up a keycard. “I just need to get by unless you’re also going in.”

“Shit. I’m sorry,” I mutter, swiping my card and opening the door. I let her walk through first. She expresses her thanks and then disappears down the hall.

Incapable of moving, I lean against the wall, praying it will hold me until I can regain control of my limbs.

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