Endless Obsession

by Alex Grayson

  After unlocking the door, she turns to block me from entering. “I’ve got it from here.”

  I’ve seen her house during the day before, but it’s weird being here now, especially with her standing in front of me. I’ve waited months to be welcome here as Asher. I wish I was welcome now, but I know that’s not the case, and if it was up to Poppy, I’ll never be welcome.

  I set her bags beside the door and turn to face her. “Wyatt will be here tomorrow to pick up the cameras and tracking device. I’ll have him call you when he’s on his way.”

  “Okay.” She keeps her eyes pinned over my shoulder.

  I shift closer to her and her eyes raise to mine. Something flares in their depths, and I take a chance and step closer. Her back meets the door when she retreats. I ignore the panic I see enter her eyes and focus instead on the small flash of longing she tries to hide. It’s so deeply hidden that it’s hard to see, but I saw it.

  I put my hands on either side of her head on the door and lean toward her. Her eyes grow wide with uncertainty and her breath hitches slightly.

  “What are you doing?” she asks. Desire, fear, and anger swirl in her eyes. The fear is what hurts the most.

  “I’m going to leave. I’ll give you what you need and give you time, but I’m not giving you up. You’re still mine, Poppy, just as Sterling told you over and over again.”

  “Sterling isn’t real,” she says, a hard edge to her tone.

  I remove my hands from the door and dig my fingers into her hair with my palms resting against her cheeks. She tries to pull away, but I don’t allow it. I hold her in place and lay my forehead against hers.

  “Sterling is very real,” I breathe, my lips only centimeters from hers. “He’s more real than you realize.”

  Her eyes fall closed when she says forcefully, “You’re wasting your time. I can’t be with someone that lies to me. You scare me. I have no idea what you’re capable of.”

  I kiss her forehead and murmur, “I’m capable of a lot of things, Beautiful, but harming you will never be one of them.” It may be a mistake, but I tell her one more thing. Something I’ve felt from the moment I saw her and has grown every single day since then. “I love you.”

  I hear her muffled sob, but before she has the chance to respond, I release her and take a step back. The sadness is back in her eyes. The tears she’s trying so hard to hold back almost has me going back to her. Leaving her is the last thing I want to do, but it’s what she needs right now. I spotted Rex’s two men sitting in a car one house down when we pulled up, so I know she won’t be alone.

  “Keep your doors locked,” I tell her sternly and take another step back.

  She doesn’t answer my demand, but I know she heard it. I stay halfway between her house and the car and wait for her to grab her suitcase and carry it inside. It hurts when she doesn’t look back at me, but I force the pain away.

  Soon, I’ll have her back and nothing will become between us again.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Poppy

  I close the door behind me, making sure to lock it. I’m still in a state of shock at what I just witnessed. Asher wasn’t lying when he said he had cameras throughout my house. I followed the tall blond man, Wyatt, as he went to each room and pulled out tiny cameras from small hiding places I would have never thought to look. Wyatt went to each one, like he knew just where they were. I’m hoping that Asher told him where he placed them and didn’t know their location because he’s seen the footage. I wouldn’t think that Asher would allow that, but what do I know? With each camera revealed, the churning in my stomach grew. Every single room had a camera, except for the bathroom. Knowing I kept that small bit of privacy doesn’t help make me feel better.

  I turn and watch out the small window in my front door as Wyatt climbs in his big truck. Before driving off, he pulls his phone out and speaks with someone for a couple minutes. I’m sure he’s probably telling Asher that the cameras have all been removed. When he first knocked on my door, I was reluctant to let him in. Anyone to do with Asher makes me nervous, especially with the reason why he was here. But my need to have the cameras gone had me pulling the door open and allowing him entrance. I don’t know for sure if he got them all, but for some unknown, asinine reason, I don’t think Asher would allow him to leave any behind. I may not trust him anymore, but it’s obvious he’s in pain as well. I just don’t know if it’s because he lost something he considers his property or if it’s because he genuinely cares about me.

  Last night was hard. I was constantly looking over my shoulder, knowing there were cameras all around me. I didn’t even try to find them, knowing that even if I did manage to find any, I wouldn’t have been able to find them all. I hated being here, in my own home, knowing Asher could have been watching me at any given second. I wonder if he did. I actually hid in my shower to change my clothes, and I sure as hell didn’t sleep naked. It’s been years since I slept with clothes on. I don’t know if it was that that kept me up last night, knowing everything that I do now, or if it was the dreams I had. Either way, I got maybe an hour of sleep, and now I’m exhausted.

  My phone rings from the kitchen, pulling me from my thoughts. Even hearing my phone ring frays my nerves. Each time it does, my stupid freaking heart leaps, knowing it could be Asher. I don’t want to talk to him, but I still can’t help but miss him. I miss Sterling too, with his slight accent that I feel a fool falling for.

  I grab my phone with sweaty palms and look down at the display. Disappointment and relief both play in my head at seeing Liv’s name. I push ignore instead of answering it. She’s called several times since yesterday, but I’m still not ready to talk to her yet. I hate keeping her in the dark, she’s the closest thing to family I have, but there’s no telling what she’ll do once she finds out what Asher did. Today’s Monday, so I’m sure she went to work. I’m sure Asher did as well. After all, we’re no longer in Texas anymore, so there’s no reason for him to stay home. I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize her job, and I know she’ll freak out and feel obligated to say something to him that may cause just that.

  I called in first thing this morning. I purposely waited until ten minutes after eight to ensure that someone else was in the office besides Asher. My excuse was that I was sick, but I’m sure once Asher found out I wasn’t coming in he saw through my ruse. Stupid he is not. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to go back to work for him. It would be too hard to see him every day and not touch him.

  I try to occupy my time by doing mundane things. Rearranging my living room, cleaning the spare room, going through and discarding old clothes, sitting out on the back porch and reading. Nothing works. The only thing I manage to do is picture Asher in each room I go to. My visions moved from him wandering around, plundering through my things, to us both sitting on my couch, snuggled up, watching a movie. Or me standing at the stove cooking dinner while he sat at the bar, watching me. Us cozied up in bed, murmuring nonsense to each other as we wait for sleep to come for us. Me sitting on his lap in a lounge chair on the back porch, him drinking his nasty beer while I drink my wine.

  It was those visions that kept me on the verge of tears. I want those things to come true so much. Both Asher and Sterling were everything I wanted in a man. Protective, sweet, kind, smart, hardworking, tenacious. Although his intense belief that I was his as Sterling could come off as too strong sometimes, I still loved that he felt that strongly about me. Besides my parents, I’ve never had that feeling before. I’ve never been so completely wanted by a man.

  I pull myself from my thoughts as I make my way to my room. It’s probably futile to even attempt, but my body is running on empty. I lay down on my white comforter and roll to my side. Gathering my pillow, I hug it to my chest. I try to push thoughts of Asher aside, but they just won’t leave me. Why can’t I get him out of my head? You’d think after what he did I’d despise him, but my stupid heart won’t let me. Yes, I’m angry and hurt by his actions. I hate knowing h
ow vulnerable I was with him, and I still feel a small bout of fear, but I can’t help but wonder if I’m making a mistake by pushing him away. What if what we had was real? What if he truly does love me? What if his actions were born out of desperation, or if the excuse he has for not coming to me is sincere and reasonable? What if my fears and anger are keeping me away from the best thing that could ever happen to me?

  But what if he’s dangerous? my mind taunts me.

  That’s what’s holding me back. The unknown. If he’s capable of putting cameras in my house, sending me on dates with jerks, following me around in his car, and breaking into my house at night, what else is he capable of? It’s strange, really. When I knew him as just Sterling, someone I didn’t know at all, my desire to know him more far outweighed my fear of the unknown. But now that I have a face to go with the name and it’s someone I knew all along, my fear is keeping me from moving forward. It’s the pain of betrayal that won’t let me accept him for who he is and what he’s done. That’s what I can’t get over.

  My phone at my hip jingles an incoming text. My heart pounds heavily in my chest when I read the message.

  Asher: I miss you.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and try to force the tears back, but they fall anyway. I miss him so much it takes my breath away until I can’t breathe. I only had him for two days as Asher, but I had him for weeks as Sterling. I didn’t recognize it at the time, but the two are the same. Their mannerisms and attitudes are so close; I’m surprised I didn’t see it before.

  I don’t answer him, but I tuck my phone close to my head, just in case he texts back. I’m torturing myself with wishing he’ll reach out again. It’s stupid of me and only confuses me more, but my heart won’t let me feel anything else.

  I throw a punch at my pillow, pissed he took away my happiness, then stuff my face in the damn thing, using it to muffle the broken sobs I know will take me a long time to overcome.

  I don’t know how I managed it, but somehow I fell asleep. When I pull my eyes open, they feel swollen, and a piercing pain shoots through my head. I roll to my back and stare up at the ceiling, trying to get the pressure to go down. This is what I get for crying myself to sleep.

  Once I’m reasonably sure that I won’t fall flat on my face when I get up, I slowly get up from the bed and go to the bathroom. I groan when I see my face in the mirror. I look an awful mess with my hair tangled, my face blotched with red, and my eyes bloodshot. After rinsing and drying my face, I walk out of my room, just as a knock sounds at my door. My steps are slow as I walk over to the door and peek out my window. A man in a white dress shirt, black slacks, and a black tie stands on my stoop. It’s what he’s carrying though that has me sucking in a breath. I thought he wouldn’t send them anymore, and it’s certainly not the day he normally does.

  Confused, touched, and a little miffed at his audacity, I reluctantly pull open the door and see a big vase filled with pale purple roses. The man greets me with a charming smile. “Miss Lexington?”

  “Yes, that’s me.”

  “I have a delivery for you. Would you like me to carry them in for you?”

  As much as I enjoy getting the beautiful flowers, I can’t continue to accept them. I don’t want him to get the wrong idea if I do. This madness needs to stop. He promised to give me time, but him doing this isn’t that. Time really doesn’t matter anyway. I can’t go back to him.

  “I don’t want them. Take them back, please,” I tell the guy.

  He looks confused, like he’s unsure how to proceed. I’m sure it’s not every day that someone refuses a beautiful vase full of flowers. I certainly never thought I would.

  “Umm… I-I’m not sure…” he stutters. Clearing his throat, tries again. “I’m not supposed to take them back. You’re supposed to keep them,” he finishes with a frown.

  I blow out a breath and reach for the flowers, just wanting the guy to leave. I accept them, but they are going straight into the trash.

  I bump the door closed with my hip after the flustered guy turns on his heel, eyeing me strangely over his shoulder. I try really hard not to look at the flowers I’m now holding as I walk to the kitchen, but my eyes won’t listen to my mind. My damn feet won’t take me to the trash can either. Instead, they lead me over to the bar and my treacherous hands put them down on the counter. I spy the card that’s attached to the plastic clip and before I can stop myself, my hand is reaching for it and sliding the card out. I loathe myself when my heart jumps at seeing the message inside.

  I miss seeing your beautiful face.

  Forever yours,

  Asher

  Why does this have to be so hard? I tip my head back to blink away the tears and silently plead for God to answer me.

  I stuff the card back inside the small envelope and set it down on the counter. I run a finger down a petal, missing the softness and scent of the roses. The ones I had before I left are all dead and thrown out in my garbage can outside. That was one of the first things I did when I came home yesterday, not wanting the reminder of what I briefly had. I don’t think I can get rid of these, though.

  I turn my back on them and walk aimlessly around my house. I feel lost. I’m used to being at work right now, not sitting around at home with nothing to do. I’ve always worked, from the time I was fifteen up until the bank took the hardware store away and the small amount of time before I started working for Asher. I need something to do, but I don’t know what. I’ve done all the cleaning I can. I’m not in the mood to work on the family tree. Reading and watching TV doesn’t appeal to me at the moment. I didn’t realize how boring my life was until now.

  The park.

  I can go to the park and feed the ducks. That always cheers me up when I’m down. I just hope it holds my attention today. My stomach grumbles, reminding me I haven’t eaten yet, so I make myself a sandwich to go along with me. I slip several extra slices of bread into the clear container for the ducks and walk back to my room for my phone. It rings, just as I pick it up from the bed.

  It’s Liv again. Guilt eats at me as I press ignore. I’ll call her this evening. If I don’t, I’m sure her and Tony will be banging down my door. I look at the time on my phone and notice it’s after five, which means she’s off work by now, which also means she could show up any minute.

  The phone dings with a new message.

  Liv: Why in the hell are you avoiding me? Can you at least let me know you’re alive. I’m worried about you.

  Damn it. I can’t do this to her. She’s always been there for me. I can’t leave her completely in the dark. I hate knowing she’s worried about me and there’s something I can do to relieve that worry.

  I type as I walk down the hallway back to the kitchen.

  Me: I’m fine. I’ll call you this evening. I’m sorry.

  That should tie her over until tonight, or at least I hope it does. I know I’m being a shitty friend. She would be here for me in a heartbeat. She loves me just as much as I love her, and I’d do anything for her.

  I close out of the text app and am just getting ready to slip it back in my pocket when my phone rings again.

  What the hell is this, Grand Central Station?

  It shows up as a private number, and an eerie sense of foreboding washes over me. Could it be the same guy that sent me the threatening message in the car in Dallas? Asher said he wouldn’t bother me anymore, but how can he be so sure? The ringing stops, but before I can feel relief, a shiver races down my spine. I don’t know how I know, but I know there are eyes on me, watching me. I look around the room, zeroing in on each window I can see. My feet carry me backwards until I’m in the mouth of the hallway, just out of sight of all the windows. If I can’t see them, then they can’t see me. I jump and shriek when my phone rings again in my trembling hand.

  Private number.

  I know it’s him. It has to be. He’s taunting me and he knows it.

  I hit accept and bring the phone to my ear, my hands shaking so much I’m barely a
ble to keep hold of it.

  “W-what do you want?” I ask. Even to my own ears, I can hear the tremors in my voice.

  “You know what I want,” a deep, gravelly voice responds, making my already quivering legs shake more. “He may have already had you, but I’ll be the last one that ever touches you again.”

  I sag back against the wall with tears welling in my eyes.

  “What do you want? Why are you doing this?” I cry.

  “Because you’re mine,” he says resolutely, sending my fear skyrocketing. “I’m coming for you, Poppy, and I won’t be as nice as he was.”

  There’s a click on the line, and all I hear is silence. I feel like I weigh a thousand pounds as my body slides to the floor, my legs no longer able to hold me up. I wrap my arms around my legs and try to get my trembling body under control. I sit in my dark hallway, contemplating on what I should do. I’m scared as hell. I want to call Asher and tell him what happened, but I also don’t want to see him. I know he’ll protect me, but I’m not ready to face him yet. And if I’m being truthful, I’m also worried about his reaction. I may be pissed at him, but I don’t want to see him get into trouble. And I have no doubt he’ll go off the deep end if he finds out this guy is still harassing me.

  I pick my body up off the floor, my legs still wobbly, and creep down the hallway. The feeling of being watched is no longer present, but that doesn’t mean he’s no longer there. I peek my head around the corner and look out into the living room. I look to each window and see nothing out of place. Shivers still race up my spine though. I don’t feel safe here anymore.

  I turn on my heel and rush to the bathroom that’s connected to my room. Locking the door behind me, I find Liv’s number and push send. I don’t want to involve her and Tony, but I have no one else I can call.

  A rush of relief slams through me when I hear her voice, almost bringing me to tears again.

  “What the hell, Pop? Why haven’t you been answering my calls?” she demands, hurt evident in her voice. “I’ve been worried sick.”