Page 106 of Obsession
I stay silent, staring at the white road.
“Why haven’t you phoned the police and reported the stalker?”
“To say what?” I ask, lifting my head off the window to peer over at him. “I would like to file a report. Someone is sending me soda bottles.”
Elliot wrings the steering wheel. “And now those items have been found at a crime scene.”
I can’t report this. Not without throwing suspicion in my own direction. The last thing I need is all eyes on me. The killer knows about what I did, and he’s taunting me with it, hoping to see me break.
No, that’s a secret I need to protect at all costs.
“Are you listening to me?” Elliot asks when I fail to answer.
Blowing out a sigh, I lean back and roll my head on the headrest. Elliot is already watching me, dividing his attention between the road and my face. Sometimes, it’s hard toremember why I dislike him so much. The man flips from hot to cold in a split second. But then, like now, he’s almost…caring.
“I’m listening,” I confirm. “It’s…complicated.”
“Complicated,” he echoes, checking the rearview mirror. “If I ask you a question, will you answer honestly?”
“It depends.”
His eyes flick in my direction, briefly dropping to my lips before focusing back on the road. “Has Robbie contacted you?”
I stiffen. “Of course, he hasn’t.”
His gaze slides in my direction and lingers. “Be honest with me for once. I won’t tell anyone.”
My heart thuds heavily. “You know I can’t answer that.”
He clenches his jaw and looks back at the road. Nothing else is said. When he parks outside the office, I exit before he’s barely had time to cut the engine.
He catches up to me at the entrance door, reaching in front of me to hold it open. The act almost makes me pause. I give him a questioning look before stepping inside. Claire, the receptionist, offers us both a smile on our way past her desk toward the lift. Elliot presses the button, towering beside me. I barely reach his shoulder.
Sighing, I ask, “Why are you being nice all of a sudden?”
“Can a guy not be nice?”
“It depends. In your case, no.”
The doors open with a ding, and we enter the small, mirrored space.
When I turn around, Elliot is there, caging me against the wall. His lips are close enough to mine that we breathe each other’s air.
“What are you doing, Elliot?” I ask, placing one hand on his chest to hold him back. There’s no escape.
“Go out with me.”
“Go out?—”
“Let me take you out. Just one date.”
My eyes flick between his. I’m pressed up against the mirrored wall, barely daring to breathe.
Undeterred, Elliot strokes my hair behind my ear and cups my jaw. “I’m not opposed to begging.”
The doors begin to slide shut, but a dark shape slips through at the last second.
“Typical,” Elliot mutters, a muscle clenching in his jaw. He drops his chin in defeat before moving back and running a hand through his perfectly styled hair—a move that’s very out of character for him.
