Page 112 of Obsession
What is wrong with me? Robbie Hammond is a monster, but despite the horror of his crimes, the evil residing inside him intrigues me. I want to see him come undone. More disturbingly, I want to be at the mercy of all that restrained evil?—
The lights go out, descending the living room into total blackness. My breath catches in my throat, and I lower my hands from my face. A trickle of cold sweat licks at my neck, the hairs standing on edge. It’s silent. Too silent.
Shifting on the couch, I scan the dark room, seeing nothing but grotesque shadows.
“Hello?”
Silence greets me, pressing in from all corners. The temperature drops rapidly, or so it seems.
Seconds extend into minutes. I slowly rise to my feet and scan the room.
A loud crash in the kitchen has my heart leaping to my throat, and panic seizes me in its slippery tentacles. I run toward the stairs, slipping on the first step. My knee takes the brunt of the impact, and fiery pain explodes.
I bite back a pained cry before grabbing hold of the banister and hauling myself upstairs. My heart thunders as adrenaline takes over. I can sense the danger behind me, in front of me, all around me. I’m trapped in my own home, unable to escape the evil that wants to cut my wings and devour me whole.
By some miracle, I reach the top floor. My knee is throbbing with icy pain. One look behind me reveals an empty staircase, the steps descending into blackness. He’s down there, watching me through the shadows while waiting for my fear to reach new heights before he takes chase.
Something shifts, and a big hand grabs the banister. My eyes blow wide open, and my heart slams brutal fists against my bruised ribcage. I let out a pathetic shriek and set off running down the hallway, realizing in my panic what a mistake it was to escape upstairs. Now I’m trapped by the evil that’s slowly ascending, with nowhere to run. Nowhere to flee.
A sob rips from my chest, and my hand collides with the console table in the middle of the hallway. I try to right theprecariously wobbling vase of withering flowers, but it’s too late. It crashes to the floor, and shards of glass cut into my bare feet as I make the swift decision to lock myself inside my bedroom. The sharp sting steals my breath, blackening my vision. But I push forward, slamming the door closed and flicking the lock. I try the light switch, but the electricity is out.
I spin around, and my eyes land on the dresser. It’s antique and heavy as hell. It takes my entire body weight to shove it into place. I ram my back against it, and my bloodied feet slide out from beneath me as it slowly drags forward across the floorboards.
Turning, I brace my shoulder on the wood, using the last of my strength to move it into place just as something heavy crashes into the door.
A frightened sob rips from my lips. I stumble away and reach out behind me to steady myself on the nightstand. Another crash follows, and I watch in horror as the wood splinters.
My instincts tell me it’s Robbie, but the small possibility that it’s not messes with my head. I run to the window, peering outside at the dark, desolate road. The streetlight across the street is out. I can’t see the cop car from here, and the lights are out in my neighbor’s house.
Another loud crash catapults me into action. I open the window and lean outside, looking left and right. It’s a high drop, and the trellis is unlikely to hold my weight. Screw it. I throw my leg over the side and haul myself outside. My foot slips, and I release a frightened gasp, clambering to the windowsill, desperate not to fall to my death. My heart gallops like a sprinting horse across a hilly meadow. Sweat trickles down my spine, and my T-shirt sticks to my skin. I breathe out a shaky, relieved sigh when my foot makes contact with the trellis. Easing myself down, I try my hardest not to let panic overwhelm me.Splinters bite into my palms, and the wood is slippery beneath my fingers.
My bare, bleeding feet connect with the snow, and I gasp at the instant cold biting into my soles. Dressed in cotton shorts and a T-shirt, I set off down the side of the house, away from the cop car. I can’t alert them, or they’ll search my home. Robbie ensured with his gifts that I could never go to the police unless I wanted to become an accomplice to murder.
Leaving a trail of bloodied footprints behind, I dash around the corner, about to cross the lawn and escape into the forest, when the backdoor opens. My spine stiffens, and I chance a look behind me.
Big mistake.
Like a hooded shadow, Robbie looms, too big for the entryway, with an axe gripped tightly in his hand. His face, hidden behind a mask with mesh where his eyes should be, cocks sideways. The sinister chuckle that follows sends chills racing down my spine.
His gravelly voice rumbles like thunder, “Looks like you’re already bleeding for me.” He swings the axe at his side, the blade glinting ominously in the silvery moonlight.
One more word leaves his lips, one word that cuts through the silent night like a bullet, one word that tilts my entire world on its axis.
“Run.”
All of a sudden, I’m not Savannah. I’m one of his victims, dashing madly for the forest in the hope of coming out unscathed but knowing deep down, at the remotest parts of my soul, that nothing escapes the nightmare behind me. His shadow gains on me, growing larger on the glittery ground. Flurries of snow escape inside my clothing as I trip over my numb feet in my haste to escape. Ankle-deep in snow, I struggle to climb to my feet and crawl instead.
Another look behind me has my heart pounding so hard I worry I might pass out from the terror I feel when he swings his axe. He’s gaining on me fast, his large steps eating up the short distance.
A rush of adrenaline surges through me, and I jump to my feet and wobble closer to the forest.
My knee throbs with burning pain, and my bleeding feet are numb from the snow, which is a blessing in a way. At least now, the deep cuts don’t sting anymore.
A loud sob crawls up my chest. I’m too slow, unable to run with my injured knee. His shadow swamps mine and his fingers tangle in my hair as he yanks me back against his hard chest. I feel him pressed up against the dip at my spine, long and hard.
Cold metal kisses my throat, and his warm breaths trail a hot path through my hair toward the shell of my ear as he whispers, “Got you.”
I squirm, trying to wrangle my way out of his grip, but it’s useless. Robbie is a brick wall behind me. His brutal grip on my tresses doesn’t let up, tightening instead until I cry out in pain. My scalp is on fire.
