Obsessed

by Bella Winters

  Obsessed

  Bella Winters

  Copyright © 2019 by Bella Winters

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a piece of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people.

  If you are reading this book and book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Published: Bella Winters 2019

  Bella@authorbellawinters.com

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Author’s Note

  Blurb

  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

  Epilogue

  Excerpt

  Author’s Note

  Stay connected with Bella Winters

  Also by Bella Winters

  Author’s Note

  Obsessed is a full-length standalone novel. At the end, I’ve included an excerpt from my Amazon TOP 100 Firefighter Romance My Dad’s Billionaire Enemy.

  Obsessed concludes at around 95% on your device.

  Happy Reading!

  XO, Bella Winters

  Blurb

  My life is in danger, and my stepbrother is the only one who can save me.

  Okay, he used to be my stepbrother.

  Our parents are no longer together.

  But that doesn’t make my secret crush acceptable.

  It’s still wrong to want him.

  And it’s still wrong to carry his baby.

  Damn, my mother is going to be furious.

  But he’s the only one who can find my stalker.

  Peter heads a police station.

  He’s vowed to put the culprit behind bars.

  I need his protection.

  And more than anything, I need to be in his arms.

  Even if I have to fight with all the odds against us.

  Chapter One

  Emily

  I’m having a bad day. And not one of those mildly bad days that I can shrug off with an ice cream cone, either, but a really, really shitty day. The kind that requires a long, scented bath and a nap. You know, things I will never have time for.

  I step out of the looming door of Turning East and wring water out of my hair. Droplets splatter to the sidewalk. The other students bustling past me are bone dry. It’s not fair. It seems I’m the only one who got caught in the freak five-minute rainstorm. Even my best black flats are soaked through and make squishing noises with every step I take.

  I wouldn’t have been caught in the rain if I had been on time to class, but I had to change my clothes at the last minute when I discovered that my favorite blouse had a tear in the sleeve. Then I spilled coffee on myself and needed to change again. And now, to make matters worse, I’ve missed the deadline on my Advanced Anatomy lab report. I was so sure I had until Tuesday! I was planning on writing it as soon as I got home tonight. Now I don’t know what I’ll do. Mr. Hortenson is notorious for refusing late work, and I literally cannot afford to fail his class.

  The whole mess started when I lost my planner last week. I don’t normally lose things, but when I looked in my bag to pull it out, the damn thing wasn’t there. I’ve torn my apartment apart since then, but still nothing. I put my entire life in that stupid planner.

  I should’ve double-checked when I filled in the new one from memory, but that’s me. An overconfident girl who misses deadlines because she’s a hot mess.

  I step off the sidewalk and into the green space beside it. The grass is still damp, so there’s no one out picnicking right now, but usually dozens of students would be sitting on the grass to eat their lunch in the company of one of Boston’s better harbour views.

  I lean back against a huge old birch tree and sigh.

  This campus is beautiful. I’m embarrassed to admit it’s half the reason I picked UMass when I was deciding on colleges four years ago. It looks the way I’d always imagined a college should look. Staunch brick buildings, tree lined pathways, smartly dressed students hurrying between their classes. The sights and sounds of a bustling city, but secluded enough to make you feel as though you’re in a whole other world.

  Other colleges have students trundling to class in pajamas, but not here. It’s a public school, but it’s competitive to get into. Only the top ten percent of students make the cut.

  The professors are all required to have industry experience in their fields and multiple publications to their names. The classes are rigorous, and only too happy to leave students behind to enhance their reputation as a tough school.

  The culture here is so thick with the desire to succeed that I can feel it in the air.

  The problem with everyone here being so put together is that I inevitably feel like the biggest mess in contrast. It’s not like I’m a complete disaster. I did get in, after all. And I’ve managed to stay on track with all my pre-med classes, even if it has been a struggle at times.

  Okay, it’s a struggle most of the time.

  I swing my backpack off my shoulder and check to see if my papers are ruined. The bright green vinyl fabric appears to have kept everything dry. I breathe a sigh of relief.

  “Emily!”

  I look up at the sound of Heather’s voice, and give her a small wave as she bounces over to me.

  Heather is hands down the cheeriest person I’ve ever met. She’s always smiling and wearing bright pastel colors. Today she’s wearing white slacks with a bubblegum pink blouse. She also made the sensible choice to go into business instead of medicine.

  “Mr. Hortenson is the worst,” she says. “I just heard how he embarrassed you in front of the entire class. I can’t believe a professor would do that.”

  I really didn’t need to be reminded of Mr. Hortenson pointing me out as the only one in the class who hadn’t completed my lab report. He kept repeating over and over again that problems like this should not arise in a four hundred level class. He seems to think that only freshmen can make mistakes.

  “I’ll be okay,” I say. “It’s only my ability to graduate on the line.”

  Heather laughs like I’m making a joke, but I’m not. I’m worried. If I can’t graduate in four years, then my scholarship will run out and I won’t be able to graduate at all. That means no medical school. All my life plans will collapse into chaos.

  “Walk to Wheatley Hall together?” Heather asks.

  “In a minute. I’ll catch up.”

  I watch her walk away, then pull out my cell phone. What I’m about to do is embarrassing, but it’s also my biggest comfort on days like this. I open the longest chain of unanswered text messages in my messaging app. I don’t mind that they’re unanswered. The number is probably dead anyway.


  I’m having the worst day, I type. I feel like an idiot. I miss how you used to tell me that I can conquer the world. Fuck, I just miss you.

  I send the message and put my cell phone away. I haven’t seen Peter in ten years. I know it’s ridiculous to miss someone this much after such a long time, especially when I hadn’t known him for that long to begin with.

  Ten years ago, Peter was my stepbrother and I loved him more than I had ever loved anyone. I idolized him in a way that probably wasn’t totally appropriate for a younger step-sibling. He was just so intense, so different from any other boy I’d ever met. He knew exactly what he wanted in life and went after it, full force.

  When our parents got divorced, my mother and I moved to a new city and I never saw Peter again. She wouldn’t allow me to keep in touch because she wanted nothing to do with Peter’s father. I’ve always resented her for that. Shouldn’t my feelings have been her priority?

  I’ve only grown more bitter about it as I’ve gotten older and been able to see more clearly how selfishly she acted.

  And here I thought texting Peter was going to cheer me up. If he was here right now, he’d tell me to put my chin up and keep on swinging for the fences. I mean, I think he’d say that. Unless he’s become a totally different person in the time since I’ve last seen him. I hate that I don’t know.

  Sometimes I fantasize about driving back to Buffalo and looking for him, but I don’t even know if he’d want to see me after all this time. Let’s be honest, he’s probably long forgotten about me. I was just some stupid kid to him.

  I hurry off to catch up with Heather. A few more friends are walking with her now. I recognize Tanya from Discrete Math and Mark from Organic Chemistry.

  Mark waves his arms around as he talks. “So, Trevor was always going on and on about how much he liked Samantha, right? And she finally starts dating him, only for him to dump her a week later.”

  Tanya gasps. “No! What an asshole.”

  I shake my head. Samantha is a total sweetheart, too. This is why I don’t date. There’s no one worth relying on.

  “Rumor has it he’s hooking up with a TA now,” Mark says.

  “Ugh,” I say. “Creepy.”

  “I bet he’s cheating on tests,” Tanya says.

  “Tanya!” Heather says. “Don’t say stuff like that. It’s so mean. You’d feel awful if you started a rumor.”

  Tanya snorted. “I wouldn’t feel awful. Trevor is such a jerk.”

  I check my watch. I still have fifteen minutes until my next class starts.

  If I’d had more leeway scheduling classes, I never would have set myself up for the long walk from University Hall to Wheatley. They’re clear across campus from each other. The best way to make it on time is to take a shortcut through the winding alleys on campus, and then cut across Harborwalk. This last part can be quite a challenge on a bright, sunny day when everyone is outside. Today, though, I’m thinking that won’t be a problem, thanks to the downpour earlier.

  The crowd falls away as we walk past a series of classes, the bookstore, the dev center, until finally rushing out into the cool air. On days like this, I hate this part of the commute. With the Harborwalk deserted, the trees take on an eerie presence. It’s as if they’re hiding something, watching me.

  I start talking to keep my mind off my nerves. “So, my mom called again earlier today. She wants to know if I’ve failed any of my classes yet.”

  Heather rolls her eyes. “Bitch.”

  “Hey, she’s not so bad. Sometimes.” I do love my mom. I try to love my mom. She just makes it a bit difficult when she gets in one of her moods. I’m bad at standing up to her, I know that. If I’d been better at telling her off, I would’ve found a way to keep in contact with Peter.

  “Emily! I love you!”

  I turn around at the sound of my name, but there’s no one behind us. Just an empty stretch of grass peppered with ghostly trees.

  A shiver runs through me. It has to be a friend playing a prank. Except…wouldn’t a friend have laughed, or run over here to meet up with us? Maybe I was just hearing things?

  I grab Heather’s arm. “Did you hear someone shouting at me just now?”

  Heather shrugs. “Sure. You have a boyfriend you’re hiding from us?”

  “No.” I fight back panic. “There’s no one behind us.”

  Mark looks over his shoulder and frowns.

  “Emily has a secret lover-boy,” Tanya sing-songs.

  “No, I don’t,” I say, my voice climbing up an octave. I grit my teeth. My heart is pounding. “Did any of you see somebody?”

  They look at me blankly, then shake their heads.

  I wipe my sweaty palms against my slacks. It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t care. Just someone joking around. Maybe someone followed me from class and thought it would be funny.

  “Hey, Emily, are you okay?” Mark asks.

  I take a deep breath, but it doesn’t calm me down.

  “Why don’t we wait for you after class and walk you back to your car?” Heather says. She smiles over at me. I really do have kind friends.

  “I’m fine,” I say. “How pathetic am I, freaking out over a prank, right?”

  “It was a mean joke,” Mark says.

  I nod. A joke. It was just a joke. I’m overreacting.

  So why can’t I shake this feeling of gathering dread in the pit of my stomach?

  My cell phone pings and I fish it out of my backpack and pull it out. We’re almost to the sidewalk in front of Wheatley Hall now. Away from stupid, dreadful deserted parks with ghost trees that I really shouldn’t get so jumpy about.

  I look at my cell phone and my heart plummets. I think you have the wrong number, someone has texted me back.

  Someone has Peter’s old phone number. The earth feels like it’s been yanked out from under my feet. Stupid tears well up in my eyes. Stop it, I tell myself. It’s not the end of the world. It’s just the end of my favorite security blanket.

  I shove the phone back in my backpack and swipe my knuckles across my eyes. I won’t let myself be this pathetic over one miserable day.

  By the time I see Wheatley Hall in front of me, I’ve almost managed to recover. The memory of the stranger shouting at me plays back through my head, and I look over my shoulder one more time, just to be sure.

  A shadow moves between a set of trees. It could be someone running on the path. It could be a trick of the light thrown out from the glare across the cove right behind them. Whatever it may or may not be, it gives me the creeps and I speedwalk into the building without looking back again.

  Chapter Two

  Peter

  I will not ask Roger if he’s checked the weapons report on the murder case. I will not ask because I trust Roger. I will not ask because that would be micromanaging and I hated being micromanaged when I was a beat cop.

  The problem is, I really, really want to ask.

  I was good at my job back when I was working the beat, and I was even better at my job when I made detective a few short years later. I was so good at my job, in fact, that they transferred me to C-6 and promoted me to Chief of Police. The youngest in decades, and the one they believed had it in him to shape up a station with a dwindling record. I should be overjoyed. My career is the stuff dreams are made of.

  Instead, I’m sitting in my office banging my head on the desk as I sort through yet another stack of paperwork, when what I really want to be doing is the real work. Out on the streets.

  I’m determined to be the best chief this district has ever seen, but this job isn’t as straightforward as what I’m used to. I like having a case to solve. When I have a case, all the steps I need to take feel so clear. But in this office, nothing feels clear anymore.

  It’s like the walls are closing me off from what’s really happening in the world, and all I have are admin tasks. And sure, the numbers have been steadily improving since I took over. At least I have that going for me. But there’s hardly any thrill in statisti
cs, now is there? It’s an empty achievement for me.

  My new assistant, Denise, walks in with more paperwork. I resist the urge to glare. It isn’t her fault I’m required to sign an endless stream of papers.

  “Cute family photo,” she says as she drops the papers on my desk. She’s looking at the framed photo I have of my former family. “Aw, is that you? You look so young! When was this taken?”

  I sigh. “Ten years ago.” I know I shouldn’t have hung the photo. It only raises questions that I’m not interested in answering, but sometimes when I’m having a rough day at work, I like to look at it and remember a time when things were better. And I’ve been having a lot of rough days lately.

  My father isn’t a good man. I’ve known that ever since I was old enough to comprehend the difference between right and wrong. So, no, he’s not the best role model, but he’s made me the man I am today simply because I’ve spent my life trying to be the exact opposite of him.

  He was a deadbeat, so I’ve been hellbent on building my career.

  He was a petty criminal, so I became a cop.

  But the worst thing he ever did to me, the very worst, was giving me a family only to smash it all to pieces.

  He married Tara McAffe a handful of weeks after meeting her. He swore up and down that they had the romance of the ages.

  I loved having a step-mom, and better yet, a step-sister. While their marriage lasted, Emily was everything to me. She was brilliant, and funny, and I could tell her anything. I’d finally felt like I’d found a place in the world to belong.