Page 50 of Saved from Obsession

My hands are clenching and unclenching, sharp jabs of pain are radiating from my jaw, and Rylan is still talking in my ear. Then I hear a soft, scared voice say, “Leo? What’s wrong?”

Dammit.How am I going to tell Georgia?

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

GEORGIA

I knew it was bad news as soon as Rylan started talking.

I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but I saw Leo’s reaction just from the beginning of the conversation. It wasn’t a relievedwe have solid evidence and can solve thiskind of face. It was athis is bad news already and we haven’t even gotten startedkind of expression.

Then, as the call continued, Leo’s expression shifted from just unhappy to downright dangerous. I’ve only seen him look that way one other time—when the stalker broke into the duplex. And that’s what really has my stomach swooping in nauseating circles. Not that I’m scared ofLeo, but I’m scared of what he just found out.

Leo puts his phone on the coffee table and stares at it, breathing deeply, his shoulders hunched over and tense, a muscle ticking at the side of his jaw. His silence is almost more frightening than whatever he has to say—what is it he’s hesitant to tell me?

“Leo?” I ask again, my voice sounding nothing like me. It’s scared and shaky, nothing like the confident woman I thought I was finally getting back to yesterday.

He turns, grim-faced, and puts a hand on my leg. His expression is similar to ones I’ve seen attending a funeral, and for a second I consider leaping off the couch, hiding in the bedroom, and not coming out for a week. Or a month. Maybe longer.

“Rylan found out something,” he starts, and stress makes a crazed laugh burst out of me.

As Leo’s eyebrows jerk up in surprise, I say, the random outburst having the unexpected effect of strengthening my voice, “Yeah. I guessedthatpart of it.”

Leo hesitates again, and it actually makes me feel more in control than before. “Tell me.”

“The man Rylan talked to—he was hired on the dark web,” Leo blurts out. “And he wasn’t the first one. The one who hurt you. He was the first.”

It’s so not what I could have imagined hearing, my mouth drops and I gasp, “What?”

“Someone has been advertising on the dark web for months.” His expression is pained and his hand rubs my leg in rhythmic circles. “When the first man was caught, the ad popped up again. And now that the second is in jail…”

It feels like I’ve been dropped into liquid ice—my heart, my lungs, my throat all freezing at once. I gasp for air, but my lungs won’t cooperate. White spots float across my vision, my brain is misfiring—I heard Leo’s words but my mind doesn’t want to accept them.

“Georgia.“ Leo yanks me close to him, his eyes inches from mine. His gaze is hot liquid metal. “Breathe.”

He gives me a little shake and it cracks the ice encasing my lungs—I suck in desperate gasps so fast it makes me dizzy.

A warm hand massages my back, up and down, soothing my breathing back into a normal rhythm. “Just relax,” Leo soothes. “It's going to be okay.”

How can it be okay? It’s not bad enough that I have had three stalker-slash-attackers come after me, but it’s actually all been masterminded by someothercrazy person intent on hurting me? It’s absolutelunacy.

More crazy laughter bubbles out of me, harsh and ripping and uncontrollable. Between gasps, I sputter out, “Who… it’s crazy… I couldn’t even... make this up… it’s insane… who did I… make so angry?”

Have I officially snapped? Leo is staring at me with an even more worried expression, his brows pulled down in a deep V. “Georgia,” he starts.

Then my laughs abruptly turn to tears, and I bury my face in my hands, sagging against Leo when he embraces me. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he croons. “I’ve got you. It’s okay.”

I can’t answer—all my effort is going into reining in my out-of-control emotions. Finally—after several seconds or minutes, I’m not sure—I draw back from Leo and rub my hand over my eyes, trying to wipe away the dampness.

“Are you alright?” His gaze is worried.

“Aside from having a breakdown?” I ask dryly. “I’m great.”

“You didn’t have a breakdown, Georgia.” One corner of his mouth pulls up a bit. “It’s a lot. If I didn’t have to be all manly and tough, I might have one, too.”

“Are you saying I’m not tough?” It feels good to focus on banter, however simple it is, instead of my crazy reality.

Leo strokes my cheek, catching a few wet spots I missed. “No, you’re very tough. Not manly, but one of the toughest people I know.”

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