Cruel Obsession

by Beck, J. L.

  “You can’t keep me here. Someone will wonder what happened to me. I have a job and friends.” I’m half tempted to tell her the job was given to her because of me and that I have her phone and can easily text her friends to let them know, but I don’t. I’m done with this conversation now. Easing off of her, I put as much space between us as I can.

  “Crawl underneath the covers,” I order.

  She tugs against the cuff instead of listening to me, and because I’m so fed up with her, I pick her up, hauling her against my chest and move us both the way I want on the mattress.

  Once lying down, she tries to move away, but there is only so far she can go with us cuffed together.

  “My wrist hurts.”

  My chest rises and falls rapidly, anger and lust pumping through my veins.

  “Stop pulling, and it won’t.”

  “I don’t want to be cuffed to you.”

  “I don’t want you to act out, but you continue to, so I guess neither of us got what we wanted. Now go to sleep, or I’ll find something to gag you.”

  “You wouldn’t.” I can hear the shock in her voice, and because I’m an asshole and already pissed off, I feed right into her fears.

  “I would, and worse yet, I would enjoy it.”

  I hear her gasp and can only imagine how red her cheeks are right now. Thankfully, that shuts her up, and soon silence falls over the room. She tugs against the cuff a few more times, trying to get comfortable but eventually stops moving.

  Time passes slowly, but Dove soon falls asleep. Her even breaths giving her away.

  Her body gravitates toward mine in the night as if her subconscious knows what her mind doesn’t yet.

  That she’s forever safe, in my arms, in my bed, and in my heart.

  15

  I curl up into a tight ball. Trying to make myself as small as I can, wishing I could just disappear altogether. William is next to me on the mattress, his hand tightly wrapped around mine. Our door is closed, but our foster parents are fighting so loudly, it sounds like they are in our room. The walls shake when someone slams a door shut somewhere inside the house. I jump at the noise, and William holds my hand a little bit tighter as if to tell me he’s here.

  “It’s okay, don’t be scared,” he whispers into the dark room. “I won’t let him hurt you.”

  Like a warm fuzzy blanket, his words settle over me, giving me warmth and shelter, I wish I could shelter him too. I wish I could protect both of us, but we’re only kids. Our foster parents are supposed to take care of us.

  Heavy footfalls meet my ear. Fear trickles down my spine. Larry is coming up the stairs. Coming for us… any time he’s in the room, something bad happens. My stomach tightens with worry. A moment later, the door flies open, and my worst nightmare fills the doorframe.

  The light coming from the hallway is almost completely blocked out by his body, but there is a sliver of light that casts through, allowing me to see his face.

  His bloodshot eyes tell me he is drunk, no surprise there. I think he’s been out at the bar every day since I arrived, and when he isn’t there, he’s fighting with our foster mom. He sways lightly on his feet as he moves to take a step forward, an evil smile spreading across his face.

  “Hey, little bird,” he slurs, stepping inside the room.

  I squeeze William’s hand so tightly, it must hurt him, but he doesn’t make a sound. He, like myself, is frozen in place, knowing what’s to come.

  “Come here, Dove.” He motions for me to get up, but I can’t move, my limbs are useless, petrified.

  “No,” William says, his voice stern and almost… scary. To me, anyway.

  “No?” Larry, our foster father, starts laughing. “Did little Will grow some balls overnight?” He shakes his head. “I said come here, Dove. I want to spend some quality father-daughter time in the other room.” He licks his lips, and my stomach churns.

  “I said, no!” William growls. “You don’t touch her.”

  “What are you gonna do about it, Willy boy?” Larry taunts. “I thought I already taught you a lesson. Obviously, I didn’t beat it into your head hard enough.”

  Though drunk, Larry is still fast and crosses the room, coming straight for me with ease. I’m shaking so hard, all I can do is sit there and wait for the inevitable to happen. At the last second, Will lets go of my hand, and moves to stand. He’s sluggish and I know it takes a monumental amount of effort for him to move.

  Pain contorts his features, and I want to tell him, no, to stop, but my tongue is too heavy, the words lodged deep in my throat, refusing to come out.

  “I said, don’t touch her!” I’ve never seen or heard Will speak so violently, and a new sense of fear washes over me. What if Larry hurts him again? Just as the thought enters my mind, all hell breaks loose.

  Larry lunges for me, but William intercepts. I know this isn’t going to end well, not for me or for Will. Everything happens so fast. Fists start flying, landing with heavy thuds against skin and bone. Tears fill my eyes as screams and grunts erupt inside the room. I can’t make out what belongs to who. All I can do is pray that Will is going to be okay. He has to be, he’s the only thing keeping me together here.

  My mind is in disarray from fear as I helplessly watch the scene unfold.

  “You’re as good as dead, boy,” Larry yells and pulls something from his pocket. Then I see it. Something shiny, metal… the blade catches in the light.

  He has a knife. Larry has a knife. My brain screams the warning at me. I act without thinking. Without fear. Jumping up, I throw my body between Larry and William. I don’t care what the outcome is, all I know is I have to protect Will, protect him like he’s protecting me.

  The pain of the blade as it slices through my skin barely registers in my mind. I don’t care about the physical pain because there are much worse pains. Like the pain I feel as I look at William. Seeing all the blood soaking his shirt. Blood… so much blood.

  “Dove! Wake up…” I feel hands on me, warm, and firm. My eyes pop open, and the first thing I do is try and sit up.

  “Calm down, it was just a dream, there is nothing to be scared of…” Zane’s soft voice filters into my mind, but I’m still there. In that room with him.

  I would do anything to bring him back. Anything for him to be alive today. I would have gladly taken his place. I should have been the one dead.

  Pressing a hand to my stomach, I look down at my sweat-soaked body. I trace the scar there… Blood. So much blood… William died, and it’s all my fault.

  “There was blood, so much blood,” I whisper. Tears prick my eyes, but I blink them away. The weight of the cuff on my wrist disappears, and then he’s there, right in front of me, his dark eyes piercing mine, looking at me with nothing but kindness.

  “Shhh, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” Zane whispers as he pulls me to his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around me. Holding the broken pieces of my soul together.

  I know I shouldn’t, that it’s stupid and wrong, but I seek out his comfort. Needing it so badly, it hurts. I’m too weak to deny it.

  He’s nothing but a stranger, but he’s all I have. Clutching onto his shirt, I pull him closer. I want to embed myself beneath his skin. Burying my face in his chest, I inhale deeply. Clean. He smells like soap and man, and very slowly, the dream recedes.

  As I come down, floating like a leaf through the air, I’m reminded that the last time I felt this safe was with him… William.

  It doesn’t make sense. I shouldn’t feel safe with this man. He’s certifiably crazy, he drugged me, kidnapped me, and that’s not even mentioning all the other things that he’s done, but at this moment, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

  There has to be something wrong with me if I’m seeking out the comfort of my captor.

  After what seems like forever, he pulls back, his eyes travel down my body and land on the spot where my scar is hiding under my clothes. He must’ve seen me holding my stomach. I expect there to be a hu
nger, a lustful need in his gaze, but there isn’t. All I find is a tenderness that makes my chest tighten.

  “You’re safe, Dove. You’ll always be safe with me. Whatever your nightmare was about, it was only a dream. I’ll always watch out for you.” Something about those words tugs on me. It takes my sleepy brain a moment to let what he just said sink in.

  You’re safe. I’ll always watch out for you…

  “That night, when I walked home from the club, did you follow me?”

  “I did.”

  “There was a guy at the party. I think he followed me—”

  “The one in the plaid shirt?”

  “Yeah. He was following me home, wasn’t he?”

  “He was, but I took care of him.” I draw in a shaky breath, not knowing how to feel about what he just said. Took care of him. That’s code for killing him. “He wanted to hurt you, Dove, and he would have if I hadn’t been there.”

  I know he is right. That guy would have hurt me, but did he deserve to die because of it? I feel terrible, strangely not because he died, but because I feel very little remorse, even though it’s partly my fault.

  Lifting his hand, he softly touches my skin there. Even through the thin fabric of my sleep shirt, the gentle touch feels like an electric shock. Not one that would make you hurt, but one that wakes you up, makes you feel alive.

  His fingers dance over the scar, and he touches it the same way I touch it when I’m nervous. Closing my eyes, I let my arms fall to my side and just let him touch me. I revel in the feel of his fingers on me. Enjoying the closeness without thinking about all the craziness between us.

  For a moment, I just want to be happy and feel safe. He gently tucks me back into his side, his fingers never stop caressing my stomach, moving back and forth right over my marred skin.

  “Go back to sleep,” Zane coaxes, his voice deeper than usual. “It’s still the middle of the night.”

  Exhaustion washes over me again as I settle deeper into the down feather pillow. My head feels heavy, just like the rest of my body. I shouldn’t feel content in his arms. I shouldn’t let him touch me like this, in an intimate but non-sexual way. I shouldn’t… but I am. And that’s how I fall back asleep. Content and happy, blissfully ignoring the danger I’m in. Tomorrow, I’ll worry about what I’ve let happen. For now, I’m going to let my captor give me a belly rub, enjoying every second of it as I drift back into a dreamless sleep.

  16

  I hardly sleep for the rest of the night. Not because I’m not tired, but because I don’t want this moment to end. It feels like a dream, one I’m going to wake up from any second. I hate that she had such a nightmare, but I fucking love the way she came to me. She let me calm her down, the way she opened up, letting me hold her, touch her. For the first time, it felt like she really believed that I was more than the guy who took her.

  Lying there beside Dove, I watch her chest rise and fall for a long time. My gaze moves slowly as if I’m taking a picture of each part of her. Soft, pink, plump lips, tiny nose, beautiful high cheeks. The tiny freckle in the corner, near her lip. I don’t want to ever forget these moments with her.

  It doesn’t take long for me to grow restless. I’m used to keeping busy, so I force myself out of bed, moving slowly, so I don’t wake Dove. I have some stuff to check, and I’d rather do it when she’s asleep, that way I don’t risk another fight or more questions I don’t have answers to.

  Walking out to the kitchen, I close the bedroom door behind me and head to the coffee pot. I fill the coffee filter and push the brew button, listening to the machine work. A few minutes later, I take my steaming cup of hot coffee and walk to the library.

  Setting my cup down, I kneel in front of the cabinet that holds my safe. I open the door and punch in the code, watching as the heavy safe door pops open. I pull out the laptop and phone and sit down in the recliner.

  The laptop and phone itself are password protected, then there is another passcode that needs to be entered every time you connect to the internet. Having a connection built into the bunker was a pain in the ass but necessary. I need to know what’s going on outside, after all.

  First, I check the video surveillance for Dove’s place, fast-forwarding over the feed. No one has been in there, which means no one has reported her missing yet, nor has Christian sent anyone else to kill her, which is good.

  Checking my phone messages next, I find multiple calls and text messages from both Christian and Diego, asking when they can expect the girl. Neither one asks about Billy, so they must not have discovered his body yet, or they just haven’t made the connection.

  “Hey.” Dove’s sleepy voice fills the room. I look up to find her standing in the doorway, curiously eyeing the phone in my hand. Her hair is a wild mess, and she looks, well, sexy as hell.

  “Good morning.” I tuck the phone and laptop back into the safe.

  Dove watches me as I finish locking up. “I didn’t think a phone would work down here.”

  “It doesn’t. Not cell service anyway. I do have internet down here; I can make calls through that connection.” I say.

  “Would you let me call Donna? Or Sasha? Just to let them know I’m okay.” The pleading tone of her voice makes my chest constrict, but it also gives me a bargaining chip.

  “How about this? Let’s have breakfast first. I need to make sure you understand the rules and are willing to follow them. If I think you can, then I’ll let you call Donna later.”

  “Really?” she says in a high-pitched voice as if she can’t believe I just made that offer.

  “Really.” I watch as hope blossoms in her eyes.

  Together, we walk back to the kitchen, where she takes a seat at the table, and I start to prepare breakfast.

  “What was your dream about?” I ask, after a moment of silence.

  “I don’t remember…” She must be desperate to change the subject because immediately after, she says, “You know I can cook too.”

  “I know, but I like taking care of you.” I glance over my shoulder at her just in time to catch the tiniest smile tugging at her lips.

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-three.”

  “I’m guessing you know how old I am?”

  “Twenty-one,” I say, matter of fact. Of course, I know that and much more.

  “Is there anything you don’t know about me?”

  “I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure I know more about you than you know about yourself.”

  “How is that even possible?” she asks, squirming in her seat.

  “I’ve watched you. I see things that you don’t. For example, you feel weak, and you think that you’re scared of everything. In reality, you are brave and downright fearless.”

  She makes an adorable snorting sound and shakes her head. “If you think so. What about you. I know nothing about you. Is there anything you can tell me?”

  “I grew up in foster care, like you,” I say, just as the eggs and bacon get done cooking. I place everything on two plates and take a seat next to her.

  She doesn’t say anything to my foster care remark and just nods her head. She probably enjoys reminiscing about it just as much as I do.

  “What else? Like what do you do for work… or did? I mean other than being a criminal? You must’ve had a job at one point, like a real job, right?”

  “I’ve only had two jobs my entire life. One is killing people for the local mob—”

  Her fork slips out of her hand, making a loud clanking noise as it hits the table. She jumps in her seat, scared by the sound, or maybe by what I just said.

  “A-and the o-other?”

  “Protecting you,” I say softly. She lowers her head and sighs deeply. I can see the conflict in her eyes, even though they are downcast.

  She stays quiet for the rest of the meal. Must be out of questions for the day. When we’ve both cleared our plates of food, I take them and deposit them in the sink.

  “You know if I let you call Do
nna, you have to lie to her. You can’t tell her where you are… not like you know where you are anyway.”

  She frowns. “I’m not stupid, I won’t say anything. I just want to hear her voice and make sure she isn’t worried about me.”

  “Okay, let’s call her then.” At my words, she perks up, shock takes over her face. She still doesn’t believe me, probably thinks it’s a trap, but it’s not. “Well, come on.”

  Dove eagerly follows me into the library, where I reopen the safe and get everything out again. I set up a secure line and call the nursing home’s number. When I hear it ringing, I hand her the phone.

  I watch and listen closely as she talks to the nurse, then to Donna. As soon as she hears her adoptive mother’s voice, a genuine smile spreads across her face. Dove is beautiful on any given day, but when she smiles, she literally takes my breath away.

  Enjoying the view of Dove being happy and content, I let them talk for as long as she wants. After about twenty minutes, we hear the nurse in the background telling Donna it’s time for her morning exercise. The two women say their goodbyes, and Dove hangs up the phone before handing it to me.

  “Thank you.”

  “Anything for you.” And I mean, anything.

  * * *

  I let the hot water beat down on my tired skin after my afternoon workout. Steam has filled the entire bathroom by the time I wash my hair. Watching the water drain, my mind wanders to Dove. She was different today, more open to the idea of me not being the enemy. She is still guarded, but there seems to be less resentment coming from her now.

  The image of her smiling, so happy when I let her call Donna, enters my mind. I love seeing her like this… lighthearted, joyful, simply happy. I want her permanently happy, to smile all day, to smile every time she sees me, to smile every time I touch her.

  Groaning, I take my hardening cock in my hand and imagine her smiling, her beautiful, plump lips are wrapped around it. She sucks hard, taking me deep into her mouth. Fuck. I bet her mouth feels like heaven.