Page 106 of The Art of Obsession
Chapter Playlist:
“Hurts Like Hell” – Tommee Profitt
“I Fell in Love With the Devil” – Avril Lavigne
“My Immortal” - Evanescence
EVERLEIGH
The last thingI remember was the force of the explosion. The glass walls splintering. My horror at the wreckage of everything I’ve loved for the past five months. And then…strong arms behind me, followed by the familiar stab of pain from an injection.
My last thought before blacking out:
Don’t let it hurt the baby.
The hum of an engine stirs me from unconsciousness, its drone vibrating through my body. My eyelids flutter open, revealing the muted glow of artificial lights and a faint leather smell.
One glance around confirms I’m in a private plane.
I sit up slowly, a soft blanket slipping from my shoulders. Not one of those itchy airline blankets but a soft warm wool one. I’m still wearing Acheron’s shirt, which sends a pang through my chest.
My breath hitches at the familiar figure across from me. Elliot. Elliot Carlysle. My boss. His sharp features are etched with concern as he leans forward, putting away his smartphone.
“Oh, you’re awake,” he says, relieved. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I was drugged,” I mutter, my throat dry. “How long was I out?”
“A couple of hours,” he replies, sitting back in his seat. “We’ve been flying for a while now, staying off the radar.”
I rub my ailing head and ask, “Elliot…what are you doing here?”
He exhales, shoulders lowering with regret. “I’m sorry, Everleigh. I should’ve done my homework on Acheron. I should’ve known it was too good to be true. Once I found out what you were going through, I couldn’t rest until I got you out.”
How did he know? I’m sure I’ll learn soon. All I know is my boss’s words should be comforting, but the ache in my chest grows until it hurts? I think about the last conversation I had with Acheron. The promises we made. How he…basicallyproposed.
Everything he said about confronting my trauma, about awakening my deepest desires—it was all true. And he fought for me, didn’t he? With every bone in his body.
Just like I’ve fought for my career.
He tortured for me. He pushed me to my limits. Stripping me of all I believed I was while showing me who I truly am.
But this? Freedom? It doesn’t feel like I thought it would.
Why do I want to go back? Back to the exhibit, back to him? To continue my work, to uncover what other dark desireshe’s hiding? Because I have Stockholm Syndrome, I dismiss rationally.
So, boss man swoops in like a knight in shining armor?Cherry huffs, appearing out of the corner of my eye in the next seat, her arms crossed over her chest.Color me unimpressed. Where’s the flair? The drama?
Why are you here?I mutter, wondering how she can be here, especially as an illusion. She feels realer than ever. But I shouldn’t feel triggered. Not now.
You can run from him, but can you run from yourself? Because that’s who he showed you, Evie. That’s why you feel this way. Trying to run from him is like running from yourself. Running from ME, Evie! Just like you’ve always tried. Even though we both know the truth.
What truth?I hold my breath, already knowing the answer deep inside me. The reason I need her, use her to push me to see the truth.
I am you. You are me. And more importantly, you are Acheron, and he is you.
“You’re safe now,” Elliot says, his tone calm but firm.
Yes, safe. Safe and simple.
