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Shattered Obsession: Book 3 of the Obsession Trilogy

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by Sinclaire, Roxy




  Shattered Obsession

  Book 3 of the Obsession Trilogy

  Roxy Sinclaire

  Illustrated by

  Natasha Snow

  Edited by

  Elizabeth A. Lance

  Copyright © 2019 by Roxy Sinclaire

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design by Natasha Snow

  Edited by Elizabeth Anne Lance

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the authors’ imagination.

  Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters represented as 18 or over.

  Contents

  Mailing List

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  About Roxy Sinclaire

  Also by Roxy Sinclaire

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  Chapter One

  Red lace.

  Seriously?

  What the fuck is wrong with him? Camila stared at the bed and her hand went to the collar around her neck. The fucking thing was locked in place with some sort of padlock that she couldn’t break if she tried.

  “Camila, you have one minute!”

  Camila’s eyes flew to the door. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed the stupid red lace and slipped into it. She feared being shocked again. No way was she going to let him do that to her again if she could help it. And it wasn’t as though he hadn’t already seen her naked. Unfortunately.

  A glance in the mirror told her that all of the important parts were covered. The red lace thing was actually a short, very, very short, night gown. It just barely covered her ass at the bottom and the top put the swell of her breasts on display. Her stomach rolled at the thought of wearing this for him, but taking a breath she decided she could live with it.

  “There you are.” Adrien stood in the doorway. “It fits nice. Turn.”

  Keeping her mouth shut, Camila did as he asked. When she’d made the full turn, she stopped and looked at him. Her lips pressed in a thin line as she bit her tongue.

  Adrien’s expression turned lecherous and she took a tiny step back. “I set food out, go cook it, wife, I’m hungry.” His words and his expression implied two different things.

  It was the look in his eyes that worried her. Carefully, she moved toward him. He didn’t move out of the doorway and she attempted to make herself smaller as she passed by him, but as she did, he grabbed her hips and she froze.

  “Mmmm, you smell good enough to eat,” he commented.

  Camila’s heart raced. With panic in her eyes, she glanced up at him. “I-I thought you wanted food.”

  “I do.” He smacked her ass. Hard. “But I might want this later.”

  Camila shuddered, but didn't say anything.

  “It’s waiting for you. Be quick about it.” He gave her a little shove and she stumbled in the hallway before gaining her feet.

  She hurried down the hall to the kitchen and found two steaks, a can of green beans and some powdered mashed potatoes set out on the counter. The steaks were already defrosted, so she didn’t have worry about thawing them. Going through the drawers, she looked for a knife, maybe she could hide it somewhere… but to her great regret, there were none. All she found were regular table knives that were pretty dull. She half wondered how he planned to eat the steak, but with a sigh, she went about gathering the rest of the things she’d need to make the food.

  “How long will it be, honey?” Adrien asked, standing in the kitchen entryway.

  Camila looked over her shoulder. He wore a smirk, as if he’d known exactly what she’d done when she reached the kitchen. She suppressed the shudder she felt building and said, “Half hour, maybe?”

  He gave a sharp nod. “I’ll set the table.” He moved toward her, his hand skimming over her back as he opened the utensils drawer.

  Camila grabbed a pan and added butter. She found the salt and pepper and seasoned the steaks before adding them to the pan.

  “It’s too bad we don’t have any garlic or onions. That would have added great flavor,” he commented as if they were really husband and wife and this were just an ordinary night at home, and there wasn’t a dead body in the basement. “We’ll just have to make do for a while though, till things cool down and my arm heals. Then I’ll make a trip to the store.”

  Camila couldn’t believe how delusional he was, but she figured it would be better to play along as much as she could. She didn’t want to give him any reason to hit that button on the remote, and until she could get it away from him, or get the collar off, she was going to be the best actress on the planet. “I’m sure there is plenty here for us to work with.”

  “Now, that is a good attitude to have.” He smiled at her and it made her a bit nauseous.

  How do actresses deal with this shit? Pretending to like things they don’t? Samuel had better find me fast!

  Camila gave him a tight smile and turned her back to add the green beans to a sauce pan. Luckily, they had a pull tab top, and she didn’t have to hunt for a can opener.

  “When I was downstairs, I saw we have plenty of canned goods. I’ll bring up more tomorrow. Maybe we can rearrange the kitchen. Get rid of some of these knick knacks, and use it for food storage. How does that sound?” He came up behind her and she felt his hips press into her ass.

  She nodded and swallowed hard. “Fine.”

  “Good girl,” he commented and swatted her ass again. “I also found some liquor. I must have forgotten setting it down there for safe keeping.”

  Camila looked at him, confused. He forgot he put it down there? What the fuck?

  “Oh, did I spoil the surprise? Did you do that for me, honey?” He looked at her as if he completely believed what he was saying. “You are such a good wife.”

  “Why don’t you sit down, it’s almost ready,” Camila murmured, giving him a tight smile. And then she had a thought… maybe she could get him to drink and pass out… “Or, you know, maybe grab one of those bottles for dinner?”

  Adrien’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that’s a great idea.” He kissed the top of her head and stepped away. “I’ll be right back.”

  As soon as she heard him on the basement stairs, she breathed a sigh of relief to have him away from her. She plated the steaks, green beans, and mashed potatoes and moved to the table. She took the seat on the left side and waited. While she sat, she said a silent prayer to heaven that Samuel was searching for her and would find her soon, because she had no idea how long she could keep this charade up.

>   * * *

  Days at the farm moved at a crawling pace. Luckily, he had yet to attempt to force himself on her. She prayed every day that he wouldn’t. So far, he’d used his injury as a reason for keeping mostly to himself.

  “I’m sorry, honey, I want to be one hundred percent when we’re together. And this shoulder wound just doesn’t seem to want to heal,” he bemoaned.

  “You really should go to the hospital,” Camila answered. And then maybe I could get some help and away from your psycho ass!

  Adrien’s expression darkened, his eyes turning cold. “No,” he refused. “You will take care of me, like a good wife should.”

  Camila didn’t say ‘of course’ fast enough and he pressed the button on the shock collar, dropping her to her knees in pain. She still wore the red lace night gown, he hadn’t allowed her to change out of it, but now, as she convulsed on the floor, she threw up all over it.

  “Now look what you’ve done.” His voice was cold for a moment and then his expression changed, becoming soft and caring. “You know how I hate doing that, Cami, sweetheart. Now you’ll have to go change and clean this up. And then you can change my bandages, all right?”

  From her position on the floor, Camila nodded. “I’m sorry, yes I’ll change and clean up,” she choked out.

  “Take a shower, you’ll feel better.”

  He looked at her tenderly, as if he really cared, but Camila knew, it was all a game. He was insane. She hurried to the bathroom, thankful that she could remove the red lace night gown, but now she had no idea what she was going to put on. It wasn’t as if he’d kidnapped her with a suitcase filled with her clothes.

  She made quick use of the shower, washing her hair and body and then dried off and returned to the bedroom. As creepy as it was, she opened the dresser to look for something she could put on. She found a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt and put them on before returning to the living room carrying the red lace and the clothes she’d been wearing when he’d kidnapped her.

  “May I wash these?” She held them up.

  “Laundry is a good idea, I don’t like you in that. You look like a slob.”

  “It was all there was.”

  “Then you had better get to it.” He was back to his cold persona. He had a beer in his hand and he took a swig of it. “And hurry up. My shoulder hurts.”

  Camila nodded and went into the kitchen and opened the double doors to the ‘laundry room’, which was more of a closet. She was so glad that it wasn’t in the basement. She put the clothes in and set them to wash. Once that was done, she pulled out the cleaning supplies and cleaned up her mess from earlier.

  “Are you finished yet?” Adrien asked from the couch grumpily.

  Camila glanced at him and noticed he was on his fourth beer. “Yes.”

  “Then get your ass over here and fix this.” He gestured at his shoulder.

  With a sigh, she joined him on the couch and undid the bandages. The wound was looking worse and it made her smile even as her stomach rolled. She’d been fighting nausea for days now. It was always worse after one of the shocks. As she ‘cleaned’ the wound, which was just her dabbing at it and not really doing much to it, she thought about everything that had happened so far. She’d not seen signs of the gun he’d used on Tansy, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have it. By now though, she figured his plan wasn’t to kill her. For some psychotic reason he wanted her as his wife. She shook her head as she rebandaged the wound.

  “I’m going to lay down,” Adrien said as he stretched out on the couch. “Do not even think of leaving this house. I will know.” He waved the remote at her.

  Camila nodded. She didn’t feel all that great herself. No matter how much she ate during the few meals he allowed her to make each day, it never seemed enough. Especially since half the time she puked it up whenever he shocked her. Mornings were when she felt the worst though. Waking up to find herself still captive had a way of turning her stomach, and each day that passed seemed to be worse.

  She hadn’t been doing much, but she always felt so exhausted. Especially in the evening when she wanted to wait Adrien out, so she could look around while he was asleep and use the chance to find the remote to the collar, or the gun. Or both. But she would always fall asleep and wake up after he was already up.

  What’s wrong with me?

  Was the exhaustion because everything was taking its toll on her more than she’d thought?

  The worst moments though, were the nights.

  Chapter Two

  “Are you done eating?” Adrien asked as they sat at the table together.

  Camila looked up. She’d been picking at her food, not really eating because her stomach was rebelling. She nodded and set her fork down. “You…can go first and sleep if you want. You don’t need to wait for me. I’ll follow you after I clean up.” It had been over a week now since he’d kidnapped her and he’d yet to allow her out of his sight for more than fifteen minutes.

  “No, that wouldn’t be right,” he said, taking another swig from the bottle of gin before he sent a frown her way. “You know it’s only right for a husband to go to bed with his wife, why on earth would I go alone?”

  “Right,” she muttered, looking down as she picked up her fork and spooned more beans into her mouth, not really tasting them.

  She didn’t know if Adrien was seriously buying his own delusion, if it was because he was drunk, or if he was just bullshitting her. It could be that he didn’t want to leave her alone because he knew what she was planning. She was always tired, so as soon as she lay down, she was out before she noticed. But if he left her alone… well, she couldn’t do much exploring, but she would take just about anything by this point.

  Every night he joined her in the master bedroom, which unfortunately only had a double bed. She spent most nights fearful that he would force her to have sex with him, but so far, he’d done nothing more than touch her over her clothes, which was bad enough. When she tried to move in the bed, after thinking he was asleep, to maybe scoot away from him, she felt him move as well. She was forced to lie still and wait longer for him to fall more fully asleep. Then the next thing she knew, it was morning and Adrien was sitting up in the bed watching her, waiting for her to wake up and get him something for his hangover. Because over the last several days, she’d noticed he’d begun to drink more heavily.

  “Good, you’re up. My head is killing me,” Adrien commented. “Get me something for it.”

  It was a demand and Camila knew that if she didn’t obey, he’d use the remote and shock the fuck out of her. Again. With a nod, she got of bed and went into the adjoining bathroom. Opening the medicine cabinet, she pulled out the Ibuprofen, filled a glass with water and brought it to him.

  “Here.” She handed it to him, not feeling at all well herself. Her limbs felt weak and her stomach rolled as if she’d been on the spinning tea cups ride at Coney Island.

  There really has to be something wrong with my body. She rubbed her stomach, trying to comfort it.

  “I’ll go take this to the kitchen,” she said, standing and taking the empty glass from Adrien.

  “Leave it,” he demanded, standing up himself, swaying a little in place before he got a hold of himself.

  It should be normal to go to the kitchen on her own, but because he was obviously still suspicious of her, he wouldn’t even give her a moment alone. If he was living in the delusion that they were husband and wife, he should allow her to do some things alone, other than bathroom stuff, right? But, with a sigh, she assumed he had to know she didn’t really want to be there. That if she could, she wouldn’t go along with what he wanted.

  They spent the day in the living room with Adrien laid out on the couch, a half bottle of whiskey on his chest that he took a swig of every two minutes. Camila sat in the chair next to him, staring at the tv screen. They only got the local channels, but there was some football game on. She wasn’t really paying attention to it, really she was just biding her time
, attempting to think up ways to get away from Adrien.

  At five, Adrien sat up and set the now empty bottle of whiskey on the floor. “What are you making for dinner?” he asked.

  Camila blinked up at him. “Dinner?”

  “Get in the fucking kitchen and make dinner, wife. Something good,” he demanded. “And don’t take a fucking age to do it, or I swear to god, Camila, you will regret it.”

  He was in a foul mood and she didn’t want to push him. Standing, she crossed the room and went into the kitchen. Sighing she opened the freezer and looked at their dwindling resources. She could defrost some hamburger and make spaghetti, she’d seen the sauce and noodles in the pantry.

  “Spaghetti?” she called.

  “Whatever, just hurry the fuck up.” Adrien stood at the entryway watching her. He started to lean against the wall, but winced when his shoulder touched the wall and he moved back.

  Camila swallowed her smile and tossed the package of hamburger in the microwave. She set it to defrost and then started a pot of water to boil on the stove. Adrien watched her every move with hooded eyes. Her stomach rolled as his gaze creeped her out more than usual.

  A half hour later, she had the hamburger cooked and tossed it into the sauce. “Just a couple more minutes,” she murmured.

 

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