Page 10 of Their Obsession

I’d been so lost in my anxiety that I didn’t even register that we were driving. I glance out the window. We’re almost back to my apartment. Shit.

“Sorry,” I let loose a breath I didn’t know I was holding in. “I’m just nervous.”

“Nervous?” he asks as his gaze flicks between me and the road. Worry is painted across his face. “Why? I thought we were having a good time?”

“We are!” I blurt out, my hand shooting out and landing on his thigh. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. He maneuvers his sleek BMW into my apartment’s parking garage and then one of the guest spots. “I just haven’t dated in a while and I don’t really know the protocol. I want to ask you to come up, but maybe that’s presumptuous. But if I don’t, you might think I’m not into you and I don’t want you to think that. But also, I had fun and I want to go out again and—.”

My rant is cut short when he leans across the center console. His large palm cups my jaw, angling my face towards his as he crashes his lips against mine. I gasp at the sudden, aggressive kiss. He uses the opportunity to slip his tongue between my lips, stroking it against my own. I’m completely shocked, but as his soft lips massage my own, I loosen up and lean into the kiss. My entire body relaxes as I let him claim my mouth. His tongue against mine feels so good that I moan into his mouth. He nips at my lower lip in response. The slight sting causes my pussy to pulse with need. And then, just as suddenly as he was there, he’s not. He pulls back, staring down at me as we both struggle to catch our breath.

“Lil, I would love to come up to your apartment,” he whispers against my lips, his forehead leaning against my own. “But I really like you, and I don’t want you to worry that this is just a booty call. If you want to take our time, we will. I’ve wanted you for a long time. I will wait for as long as it takes to get you.”

His words should terrify me. I’ve been down this road before—I’ve dealt with a possessive man. The ghost of his obsession still haunts my life, making it almost impossible for me to trustanyone. And yet, with Noah things feel…different. I can’t explain it, not even to myself, but his words fill me with warmth, not fear. He feels safe.

“I really want you to come up, but,” I pull back slightly, allowing myself some space to breathe. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe we should take it slow.”

He smiles as his hand slips from my face. “Whatever you need, Sunshine.”

My chest constricts and my stomach dips slightly. His words fill me with relief. And yet, a small part of me wants him to fight for this, to take what he wants. I push that part deep down. Noah is nice, a nice guy. I deserve a nice guy.

Pecking a small kiss to his cheek, I offer him a warm smile. “Thank you, Noah. I had a really nice night,” I tell him before throwing open my door and stepping into the cool evening air.

I glance back one last time. He smiles reassuringly before I close the door. His car sits and idles, waiting and watching as I walk across the parking lot and towards the metal doors. Only once I’m safely in the confines of the elevator does he put his car into reverse and begin to back out. The metal sheets shut firmly as the floor jerks with movement. The numbers above the doors flash through each floor as I travel upwards. I lean my head back against the wall behind me.

Did I do the right thing?

The elevator dings when I reach my floor, the doors sliding open. Pushing off, I exit and walk down the hallway. There’s only a few units on each floor. Mine is at the far end, set back from the other two. My neighbors are both younger working professionals, usually away far more than they are here. It means that my floor is generally silent and stoic. Usually, I prefer it like that. But tonight, I can’t stop the shiver that runs down my spine. Hastily, I slide my key into the lock of my door, twisting the knob while looking over my shoulder. Slippingswiftly inside, I shut and bolt the door behind me and then spin to lean against the wooden surface. I take a deep breath in and out, letting the emotions of the night wash over me.

My eyes land on my kitchen island. Something is on the counter, but I can’t tell what. Flicking on the lights, I push off the door. Moving across the room, it becomes clear that the object resting on my counter is a single white rose. My chest tightens and all the air leaves my lungs. I nearly trip on my own feet, barely staying upright. Next to the rose is a note. Tears prick my eyes as I move close enough to see the handwritten note on the card. I immediately recognize the handwriting.

Remember who you belong to, Moy Klubnika

SIX

Lilly

Ten Years Ago

Ican’t believe I let her talk me into this. This party is absolutely not my scene. Being around rowdy, drunken idiots throwing back shots and grinding on each other is not how I want to spend Halloween night. I’d much rather be curled up on the couch enjoying a Scream movie marathon. I’m such a sucker for classic horror films. Late eighties and early nineties was the prime era for horror film creation. I’d never admit this to anyone, but the whole masked man vibe is absolutely a turn on. I’d much rather be running from Ghostface than grinding on some sloppy, too-cool-for-his own-good jock asshole.

And yet, here I am—drifting awash in a sea full of them.

No one seems to care that one of their own is still missing. Peter was never found, presumed dead, the newspaper reports say. Everyone seems to have forgotten and moved on. It’s as ifPeter was never even here. But I can’t forget. Every time I close my eyes all I can see is the blood. That box and rose haunt me.The piece left behind. In my fucking locker. I swiftly threw it all in the trash—the present, the rose, the note—and ran. I didn’t tell a soul about it, not even my parents. No one knows, and no one needs to find out.

Only a few more months left in this school year, and then I’m out of here. Off to college without the weight of my past holding me back. No bullies, no creepy notes, no secrets left in the woods, no being known only as Paul Pettersen’s daughter. I need to get away from this place, from those woods. I’ve applied to several colleges, all in big cities. Soon I’ll be free to be me. I can’t wait for college.

“Come on, dance with me,” Emily whines as she pulls on my hand, attempting to lead me towards the makeshift dance floor. Really it’s just the cleared out living room of whoever’s house this is. I’m sure their parents will love this. I think Emily said the party is being thrown by one of the boys from the school’s hockey team, but I’m not really sure. I’ve never been to this house before even though it’s just down the street from mine. We literally walked here after getting ready in my room. I must have driven by this cute little white colonial house a million times before without realizing one of my classmates lived here.

“Yeah, I’m not really feeling it,” I tell her as I pull at the hem of my skirt for the millionth time tonight.

Emily convinced me to go along with her slutty seasonal fairy theme. She turns eighteen next week and pulled the whole ‘it’s my birthday month’ card. I’m the spring fairy, so I’m in a tiny little tube top with a bunch of flowers hot glued to it and a tiny little green and pink tutu with glittery wings. She’s summer—blue with cotton ‘clouds.’ It fits with her sunny disposition, I suppose. Fall and winter ran off as soon as we got here. They’re two of Emily’s other friends—girls I barely know. That left justthe two of us to grab a drink and hang, but now Emily is making eyes with some guy on the dance floor. I think he’s one of the football players, maybe? His broad shoulders and muscled arms scream athlete. He’s in some type of toga-like costume.

Really, dude? Dressing as a literal Greek God?

Emily seems impressed though based on the seductive looks she’s throwing his way. If I go out and dance with her, she will abandon me for this dude in a second.

I pull at the hem of my skirt again, wishing this fucking tutu was longer and feeling foolish, like a little kid playing dress up. I’m nowhere near cool, fun, or hot enough for this. Eyes appraise me and my skin heats with every glance. I can tell people are probably talking about me, making fun of me. I don’t belong here. I’m not likethem. My chest tightens as the anxiety threatens to take over. I can feel a panic attack looming in the near future, a dark cloud forming on the horizon. I need some space to breathe.

“You go,” I tell her as I pull my hand away.

---