Page 96 of Obsession
The man speaks, his incomprehensible words fading in and out. I try to move my legs, but my ankles are secured to the bed frame too.
Panic sets in, and my forehead breaks out in a cold sweat. I swing my gaze back to the man in an attempt to place him.
His voice slowly penetrates the fog. When he pulls off his hood, my eyes widen with recognition.
Robbie Hammond leans forward and rests his elbows on his thighs. A knife dangles from his fingertips. He grips it tight and points the blade at me, making my heart rate spike. “Welcome back, sleepyhead. I’ve waited long enough for you to come around.”
I try to speak, but my voice is muffled beneath the duct tape on my lips. Why the hell is he here? What does he want?
“It’s a cute cat you have there.” The knife slides through the air until it points to the cat bed in the corner where my ginger tabby sleeps soundly. “I wanted one when I was little, but my mother didn’t like the idea.”
I frown when he shrugs casually, as if we’re discussing the weather.
“Said they piss against the trailer.”
I blink, nostrils flaring.
My eyes widen when he rises to his feet and looms over me, his gaze sweeping down the length of my naked form.
Where the hell are my clothes?
Every muscle in my body locks tight except for my rapid breathing. He trails the sharp end of the knife down the length of my chest and over my tensing stomach. A dull sting blooms, beads of blood rushing to the surface in the knife’s wake. The cut was no more than a surface scratch, but my heart rams against my ribcage, and icy fear constricts my airways. I inhale ragged breaths through my nose, my hands pulling desperately at the zip ties.
“I have always loved blood. Care to know why?” Robbie asks, tapping my soft dick with the flat end of the blade, and then he flashes a cold smile and walks over to a toolbox by the chair.
I crane my neck to see.
That’smytoolbox, which I kept in one of the kitchen cupboards. Robbie searched through my apartment while I was unconscious.
“I love blood because it’s the one thing we all have that makes us equals. It doesn’t matter who you are. Rich, poor, barely scraping by or owning a yacht. We all bleed.” Crouching down with his back to me, he opens the box. “Once you strip away all the bullshit, we all bleed red.”
His shoulders shift as he roots through the contents. Next to me, the bedside lamp flickers, like it does sometimes. I pull on the restraints again but soon give up when pain radiates through my wrists.
Robbie looks at me over his shoulder. “They all scream the same too.”
He rises to his feet, and my eyes widen. There’s a drill in his hand.What the fuck?I thrash, bucking and screaming beneath the duct tape.
Robbie snatches the gun on the bedside table and aims it at my head. “Shut up!” Stepping closer, he digs it into my temple. “You and I are going to have a little talk. We can’t do that if your brain decorates these walls like some fancy art exhibit.”
Nausea cramps my stomach. I try to keep my breathing steady, but it’s useless. Fear throbs inside me, unlike anything I’ve ever felt.
Robbie puts the drill beside me, then rips off the duct tape, causing me to wince at the sudden sting. His hand remains steady on the gun. The dark look in his eyes is one I haven’t seen before. The weak kid we used to push around is gone, and this version of Hammond is a soulless, empty shell.
“I’m sorry for what we did back then. It was wrong,” I rush out.
Robbie stares down at me with an unreadable expression on his face, and then, as the seconds tick by, chill-inducing laughter rumbles in his chest. I flinch at how strange it sounds coming from him.
He removes the gun from my temple to wipe tears from his eyes, his shoulders shaking with amusement. “You think I went through all of this hassle because you were a dick back in high school?”
The gun is back, aiming straight for my face, and my heart flies to my throat. “Try again,” he says almost seductively, purring the words like a lazy cat.
“I don’t know, okay.” A sob lodges in my throat. “How am I supposed to know? It’s been, what? Over twenty years?”
Seconds pass, extending into minutes. Robbie lowers the gun and tosses it to the chair behind him before reaching for the drill and curling his fingers around the handle. The whirring sound sends my heart skyrocketing.
“No…” My head shakes, terror crawling along every inch of my skin. I yank on the zip ties. I want to leave. I need to leave. I can’t die like this. The drill whirrs again, spinning around and around, too fast to focus on. Robbie cocks his head to the side as a sinister smile slowly curves his lips. He’s enjoying this moment, soaking it in with those blue eyes that appear almost black. “Let’s see if we can jog your memory.”
Adrenaline courses through me as he steps closer and grips my leg hard, just above the knee. He digs the drill into my kneecap, his fingers keeping my leg firmly rooted to the springy mattress. “Are you sure you don’t remember? Nothing comes to mind?”
