Page 70 of Their Stolen Obsession
Liv smiled back at me. “I know Sin and Saint willalwaysprotect me.”
“Please, don’t be foolish. Don’t do this, Liv,” Gloria begged.
Slowly, I stepped toward Mrs. Valencia. I didn’t dare touch her, but I stared her straight in the eye. “We’d die before we let any harm come to your daughter.”
“I’ll believe that when I see you both in graves.” Gloria didn’t bat an eyelash. “Until then, Liv knows where to find us. Come on, Frank, let’s go home.”
Jesus. Liv’s mom was a crazy… Wait… Not theBword again.
Liv’s mother was a spitfire. Just like her daughter. She blazed a fiery trail behind her with her husband getting caught up in smoke as they made their way right out the door.
Thirty-Seven
Their Universe
Liv
Thank God. My parents were gone. I loved them both so much I had put them before myself and almost married an asshole who didn’t give a damn about me, and he could’ve gotten me killed. If my death wasn’t by his own hands, it would’ve been by someone else’s because of his actions, and my death had almost come. Sebastian had been close to causing my demise, but my phantoms had saved me.
Sin and Saint were my dark heroes. The men I never saw coming. They were the blackest side of me who haunted every thought, all of my dreams, and made me more alive than I had been in my entire life.
My judgment may be off with them, but their actions outweighed all their wrongs. The blackmail, every bit of pain that had only brought me undeniable pleasure, the stalking, following meeverywhere I went, and controlling my every move. But I stayed with them after their obsession with me had forced me into unimaginable situations.
Declarations of insanity came to mind frequently, but I was safe, secure, and guarded by them. Protection was all I wanted after living through the darkest days of my life, and these men, these assholes who I once viewed as monsters, gave me this sense of security.
Was the feeling a mistake?
The answer was simple.No. Because IneededSin and Saint.
These goddamn stubborn predators had proven themselves to me. I wanted them in my life and I didn’t want them to leave. I had to stay to keep them close to me, no matter how inconceivable that may appear to everyone else around me. No matter how fucked up I might be, they were too. Screwed up, broken, and in love. I cared for them, and they had devoted themselves to me.
Sin and Saint had put themselves in danger countless times, spent hours scheming to find me, and don’t even get me started on the body count. They had turned their world upside down to fit me into it, piece by fucking piece. I had made a choice, and I was sticking to it. Fuck anyone who didn’t agree. I had to learn to take my control back. My phantomshad taught me that, and my parents would have to understand. There was no home without my men.
Sin drew me a warm bubble bath after not having one in weeks that smelled like lavender, and he even checked the temperature with his wrist. He wanted to ensure the water was right before I stepped in. He was a goddamn sarcastic motherfucker who was a huge softie that made me giggle more than I cared to admit.
And then there was Saint, who tossed white rose petals into the water and turned on a sweet tune in the background. Wicked Game by Daisy Gray played softly, and he melted my heart when he passed me two beautiful roses. One from each of my phantoms and their signature move that was strictly for me. Their obsession, their world, and their entire universe.
“Make yourself at home, sweetheart.” Sin brushed my hair behind my ears and kissed my forehead. “I’m glad to have you back.”
“Me too,” Saint added, tilting my chin toward him, and he caressed the pad of his thumb against my cheek. “Take your time, darling. We’ll be waiting for you.”
Sin let me go while Saint took his turn to kiss my cheek, and the gesture was freaking sweet. Slow,gentle, and all that I needed. His cinnamon rolls were showing, but I loved everything about them.
I waited for Sin and Saint to leave before I discarded my dirty clothing. I wasn’t ready for them to see all the damage done to my body, and I was glad they understood that without me even giving an explanation. I’d have to show them the reality of my torture eventually, but I wasn’t ready to yet. All I wanted to do was get rid of the past, to forget every inhumane moment still stuck with me. I wanted to wash all of it down the drain.
I dipped my toes in, and the welcoming warmth was bittersweet. The woman’s razor sitting on the bathtub’s ledge was even a pleasant surprise and made me all too eager to use it. Normally, I dreaded shaving, cutting myself, and the tiny sting of pain, but I had taken the easy act for granted. It was a delicacy that wasn’t even close to true excruciating agony and a simplicity I’d love to do every day of my life instead of being cut with a knife.
A chill ran through me at the harsh memory of a blade digging into my throat, and I immersed myself in the water. I didn’t care about the bubbles, and I let the warmth surround me. The nip of the recollection pushed away, leaving my mind as comfort wrapped me up, and I begged the feeling to hold me a littlewhile longer. But I wasn’t very good at holding my breath.
I came up for air, gasping with my hands clutching the sides of the bathtub and water slashed against the porcelain walls. Bubbles were in my hair, water dripped down my face, and I wiped at my eyes. I reached for some shampoo and realized it was my favorite. Holy shit! The conditioner was too. Only my stalkers knew everything.
I giggled at the adorable yet creepy gesture.
The door creaked. “No. Don’t come—” A black head with big beady eyes peaked in.
It was Rocko. The damn lovable cat. He strolled in as if he owned the bathroom and sat down beside the bathtub. His furry tail wagged slowly back and forth as he sized me up. He was the friendliest animal I had ever met, and he was a fantastic snuggler. When I had woken up in bed, there he was all cuddled up against me with his tiny nose grazing my arm.
“You can stay, but don’t tell Sin and Saint,” I whispered to Rocko and gave him a brief pat on the head. “They might get jealous.”
