Girl Obsessed: A Dark Romance

by Zee Shine Storm

  Jude was probably thinking along those same lines because he looked up at me and said, “You have to turn yourself in.”

  I balked at the order and pressed my back against the door, every part of me deeply protesting against that idea.

  “Wynnie, you have to,” Jude stated firmly and stood up to glower at me. “This has gone on for too long. The matter has gotten way too serious. There’s too much scrutiny on me now. We’ll wake up tomorrow and reporters will be swarming the place, do you understand that? We cannot risk it anymore!”

  The air I inhaled tasted acidic and sour. I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t.

  “Jude, please don’t make me,” I begged him softly. “Can’t we just go somewhere, far away from all of this? What if…what if you fail to prove my innocence? What if they actually send me to prison?” I asked in a whisper,

  His eyes were cold and uncompromising. “You need to own up to this, Wynter. This is the real world. Snap the fuck out of the fantasy and turn yourself in. I will handle it from there.”

  I shook my head at him as the implications washed over me. There was already enough scandal and drama. Enough boycotting and cancelling with regards to his name. And it had only been a couple of hours. If he decided to fight my case… If this was also publicized…

  “It’s not a good idea,” I told him and gave him a regretful look. “You know they won’t let you live in peace-“

  “They won’t let me live in peace either way!” he shouted and I winced, knowing it was true. There was no future for us. No future that would be free of insults and accusation. As long as he was who he was, people would condemn him for staying with someone like me after learning of his infidelity. They would accuse him of betraying a ‘sweetheart’ like Jennifer who added to his respectability and would denounce him for choosing a girl who was in her teens and someone who had almost committed a murder. Jude’s position, his success, his family’s reputation, all of it was on the line right now. He would be ruined because of me.

  “For fuck’s sake, Wynnie, stop thinking so hard. We don’t have a lot of time.”

  “But you know it’s only going to cause more scandal,” I cried. “Jude, if you acted as my lawyer, they would know it’s true. They would know that you did cheat and they would hate you for it.”

  “We won’t confirm it,” he said in a deadened tone and I stared at him as he continued. “I have connections in this city, Wynter. We won’t have a public trial and nobody needs to know I’m representing you. Whatever rumors fly around, we’re just going to have to deny it, okay.”

  My brows puckered at his suggestion and inside my chest, something seemed to break. Jude was withdrawn again and completely serious. Under no circumstances did he intend to acknowledge our relationship in public. Under no circumstances was he going to tell the world that we were in a relationship. Even when there was no reason for me to hide from the law anymore, he still wanted to keep my name unattached to his.

  “J. R. Knight for the world, huh?” I questioned in a bitter tone and managed a mocking smile.

  Yeah. Here I had been thinking of saving him from further humiliation but…he couldn’t even bring himself to brush aside my doubts and tell me he didn’t care about what those people said. That it didn’t matter what the world thought. That he was going to be with me even in the face of all that gossip and criticism. That he would own up to what he did just like he expected me to.

  “I thought it was ride or die, Jude,” I whispered, feeling my dark mood threatening to engulf me just like yesterday. “Are you really so ashamed of me?”

  He growled a little and turned away, his posture depicting frustration.

  “Wynnie, focus on what you have to do right now. Tell me that I can call the police and that you’re ready to confess. Tell me that you are willing to let me do this the proper way. The legal way.”

  “I’m not ready!” I threw at him, thinking of Joshua and his malice, the porn video with my name stamped on it forever. “Don’t force me to confess when you know I am neither mentally nor emotionally prepared to endure a trial. You know I’m not guilty, Jude! I didn’t ask for any of this! I didn’t ask for what happened to me! I was innocent! I trusted my friend. I trusted my Mom to protect me!”

  I was sobbing loudly now and slid down to the floor, burying my face in my hands as the memories flooded my brain. Even the man who had helped me through so much pain and despair didn’t seem to understand that I simply preferred to fade away into nothingness rather than deal with that trauma all over again.

  I rocked myself back and forth on the floor, wishing he would come and hold me but he didn’t. He was distant and arctic. Heartless and unbending.

  “You know what, Wynnie?” he finally grated and walked over to his desk. “Do whatever the fuck you want. You and I both know there’s only one solution to this and you’re refusing to acknowledge that. You’re determined to act childish and are resorting to emotional manipulation just to get me off your back like you’ve been doing this whole week. I bent my fucking rules for you!”

  I flinched at his raised voice before lifting my head to shoot him a death glare. I wasn’t going to sit here and tolerate him speaking to me this way just because I loved him and was feeling vulnerable right now.

  But what Jude did next was what broke me in the worst way possible.

  “No one’s going to print this crap now,” he said in irritation and stuffed the incomplete manuscript I had printed out a day before into the trash can beside his desk. “Any idiot would know it’s about us.”

  I looked at the pages sticking out of the trash. Pages that mocked me. Weeks of hard work on both our sides, weeks of him pouring his heart out into that story, a testimony of his feelings for me both conscious and buried. His analysis and projection of whatever this was between us explored in a masterpiece which I had inspired and he had just decided to dump it because he was ashamed of us.

  Tears rolled down my cheeks as I kept staring at those pages and made myself speak. Try one last time to salvage this. To hang on to that thread of hope that he wasn’t going to become another ugly part of my life.

  “I love you, Jude,” I said softly into the silence. “I would die for you. I would go to the ends of this earth for you. I would jump off that cliff for you.” I paused and looked into his eyes, searching and pleading. “Would you do the same for me?”

  My life seemed to be hanging on the balance, stuck on the answer to that one question. Jude turned away from me and sat down hard on the chair, burying his fingers in his hair and bracing his elbows on his knees.

  There. That was my answer. His action was the equivalent of giving up.

  And all he represented now was a picture of defeat.

  Chapter 31

  Jude

  I got drunk again that day. Took a bottle of wine to bed instead of the girl I wanted to hold. Wynnie needed to realize how serious this was. I didn’t intend to coddle her and even though I understood that she was trying to protect herself emotionally by staying out of any court-related drama, it wasn’t practical. If she wanted a normal life, she had to face her fears.

  The wine helped me to drown myself in misery and cowardice. Some people could disregard everything and carry on with their lives the way they wanted. I had never been one of those. My father was gutted by the news that had spread across the media. Jennifer’s dad and him were childhood buddies and had such good relations. Now that the cat was out of the bag about what a wretched human being his son was, my father had made his displeasure quite apparent. Mum would take his side as well.

  Phillipa was the only one I could trust at the moment but even she was skeptical of me being able to rise up from this latest scandal unscathed. The hashtag #boycottJRKnight was trending right now on Twitter and God knows how many other places. I was only logged into the @judethenovelist account.

  - Damage control starting tomorrow.

  The text was from my agent and I turned my phone off because I didn’t wa
nt to think about it. I didn’t want to think about how bad it was, what kind of statement I needed to release, how many apologies I should make, how viciously Jennifer’s fans must be dehumanizing me online right now and how some hateful people must be trying to work out who my assistant actually was. Wynnie was in danger and instead of letting me help her, she was being dramatic.

  We were both in a dark place right now. It hurt. It hurt seeing her so devastated. But I had my own demons to fight, past experiences with cyber bullying coming back to haunt me. I was that insecure boy in high school again and Wynnie was demanding so much from me. A part of me even considered calling the cops and forcing her to confess but I was afraid she might run or fight against it. It would be very difficult to save her then.

  Frustration overwhelmed me and I drank the anxiety down each time. Fame was both a blessing and a curse. Everyone wanted to be recognized for their work and talent. Everyone loved being dubbed as brilliant or outstanding. But it came with its ugliness too. The ugliness Wynter sometimes referred to. She always tried to create beauty from a place of darkness and I admired her ability to do that. I admired that even when she had felt like giving up, she had found my words to hang on to.

  I loved her for that. God, I did love her. But was it enough? Would I really do the same for her like she would do for me? Was I brave enough to claim her in front of the whole world and not care about the consequences? Not care if people ripped me apart for being the bad guy after all the work I had put into creating a spotless image.

  I bet the folks at St. Philips were regretting ever asking me to make that speech now. I bet they thought I was a hypocrite. I bet I was going to lose a whole host of Christian readers who would now read those same stories and spit at my work because they knew the true colours of the author.

  Anxiety gripped me so hard, I almost screamed. I didn’t want to be J. R. Knight anymore. I didn’t want to be in his skin, living his life. I wanted to be normal. I wanted to be happy.

  I wanted Wynnie.

  Forcing myself to get out of bed, I stumbled drunkenly downstairs to my office and found her still sitting there on the floor, hugging the pages of my discarded manuscript. I blinked several times and took them from her to place them back on the desk before bending to pick her up.

  “Jude, stop it,” she protested in a weary voice but I was determined to show her that even at my weakest and even when I was drunk, I had the strength to carry her. And so I did, one step at a time.

  “Ride or die, baby,” I slurred and she rolled her eyes but tightened her arms around me. There were tear streaks on her face which made my heart ache and as soon as I dropped her in bed, I proceeded to kiss away her unhappiness, gliding my lips over her cheeks and eyelids and murmuring things I didn’t even understand myself.

  “I want to fuck you,” Wynnie told me, grabbing my shoulders and staring into my eyes. My brain was sluggish and I could hardly focus on her words.

  “You’re going to let me fuck you till you black out with my name on your lips and scratch marks all over your body,” she told me, digging her nails into my heated skin. “Consider it a parting gift.”

  Upon hearing that statement, fear and dread both threatened to engulf me and I widened my eyes at her, trying to concentrate. The alcohol was numbing my ability to think straight but I still knew what she meant. I remembered those words.

  “No, Wynnie,” I whispered and tried to hold on to her. “No, please, don’t leave me. Don’t do this.”

  She pushed me on to my back and I felt a heaviness settling over my limbs as she mounted me, her pussy slick and bare against my crotch as she pulled my cock out and stroked it.

  “You probably won’t remember this,” she uttered sadly and leaned forward to kiss my mouth. “But it doesn’t matter. You’re always going to be mine, Jude. Always. J. R. Knight belongs to the world. But Jude belongs to me.”

  Chapter 32

  Jude

  The world was out to get me. That was what I had told her once. I hadn’t even understood the meaning of the phrase until now. It was like my very own private storm had been unleashed and there was no sign or hope of it abating. More rumors began to spread like wildfire about the cruel way I had cheated on and dumped Jennifer, about how I had been emotionally abusing her in secret and generally being a scumbag of a boyfriend. My Christian readers were the first to go.

  St. Philips church actually issued a public apology to its patrons for ever having me as a guest speaker or for promoting my books. And then the media got hint of the fact that Wynter wasn’t who she had claimed to be and I had been harboring a fugitive in my home because of my affair with her. That I had deliberately assisted a criminal despite being a lawyer and knowing what a serious crime it was. Of course they couldn’t prove that I was guilty of this and Ella never butchered my image to that extent so I could only sit back and watch the claims get wilder and more aggressive each day.

  The cancel culture was strong enough but then, some of my former readers began to send me an influx of hate mail. I couldn’t even go out without some tabloid reporter asking me about my connection with Wynter or Jennifer.

  A month later, as the news continued to circulate, my sales began to drop. A lot of literary hotshots began boycotting me at events which I started to avoid more and more after realizing how useless it all was.

  J. R. Knight had fallen from grace. Period.

  The worst of the blows came from my publishing house, Hierchay. Due to public outrage and pressure from the media and the bookish community, they were forced to drop me. They didn’t want to be associated with me after the allegations about me aiding and abetting a criminal while ruining my relationship by having an affair with a teen girl. I was labeled everything from a predator and a cradle-snatcher to a pervert and groomer.

  One morning, I even woke up to find my front window shattered with a stone wrapped in paper. The note inside said:

  I had so much respect for you, you fucking prick. I have a daughter who is in high school and she never missed a single book of yours. Way to put such thoughts into a girl’s head who is barely old enough to make her own decisions. I hope you burn in hell. Same way I’ll be burning all your fucking books.

  Wow. I felt like that was a bit extreme. But Phillipa, who had been attending to my mails all these years before Wynter came to work for me, assured me it was not.

  “They worshipped you, J.R,” she informed me with a pained expression. “Your fandom has always been strong. They had a passion for your books and believed you were a good man. This is how it is these days. Even if many of your fans still love you, they will be afraid to show support or speak out for fear of backlash due to the majority of readers standing against you.”

  Phillipa was the only one who hadn’t left my side in all of this. Jennifer had actually called to check up on me one night, saying that she wasn’t holding a grudge and had tried to curb the rumors by not speaking out against me publicly or confirming any of it. But that was as much consideration as she had decided to show me. Lying for me was not part of her future plans and I didn’t blame her for taking that stance after what I had done to her.

  Ella tried to see me several times but I knew that I could never bring myself to forgive her after the way she went behind my back and sabotaged everything. She was the reason all of this was happening right now. I could have convinced Wynnie to be brave and do the right thing if I had had a little more time with her but Ella’s betrayal ruined all chances of that happening.

  Three months went by since that wretched day when the world decided to crucify me and Wynnie decided to leave all of this behind. The morning after my fight with her and the drunk sex, I had woken up alone. All her things were gone as well and she never answered any of my calls or texts. She did leave me one final message on Twitter though.

  I thought you could save me from myself, Jude but I ended up destroying you instead. Giving you back to the world now. I never should have tried to claim you for myself.
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br />   God. Did she know? Did she know what was happening to me right now? What this world she had given me back to was doing to me. They were torturing me on a daily basis and I could barely walk the streets without being hounded by haters. I had become a joke, a terrible example, someone on his way to ruination. The same people who had put me on a pedestal were now spitting at me. The ones who had cherished my books as though they were religious scriptures were burning them now to show that they would not support a monster like me who preyed on young girls.

  When I went outside one morning and found my tires slashed, I dragged in a fortifying breath and admitted to myself that the situation was becoming dangerous now. I hadn’t reported any of the hate crimes against me because that would be irony itself for me to want to seek justice and seek to punish these criminals. Hadn’t I been guilty of breaking the law too? Phillipa took one look at my car when she came over that same day and ordered me to get out of the state until things had cooled down.

  “You aren’t safe, J.R,” she told me gravely and pleaded with me to understand. “The longer you remain silent and refuse to issue a statement, the harder they will make it for you. They want answers.”

  My parents could be in danger too if I went to stay with them. Already, my father was disassociating with me in public to let his stand be known regarding my crimes and actions. I would find no sympathy or help there.

  Brent was the only person I could think of who would help me and it was difficult to ask him after the way I had shut him down about Wynter months ago at his Florida home. I made myself swallow my pride and do it though. I didn’t trust myself to be able to make it on my own. The darkness in me, the weakness and mental pressure was pushing down on me so painfully.

  The day I moved into Brent’s beach cottage temporarily, I threw myself back into my writing again. It was the only solace I had and the only way to speak to Wynter. Through my words. The words I wanted to write to her but knew she wouldn’t care about anymore. I had failed her. She had asked me to choose between her and this world and I hadn’t chosen her. I hadn’t been strong enough. I hadn’t wanted to lose my credibility.