Page 104
Story: Distorted Obsession
“You should’ve saved me… you could’ve saved! Why didn’t you?—”
The accusations shock my system, coming out of nowhere as the once jovial grin melts away from my sister’s face, replaced by a scorned scowl.
“You all failed me.”
Farrah’s onyx-colored hair bleeds crimson, making her appear like a fallen angel.
My heart thumps so violently as the familiar scene plays out before me. I can’t escape it, though. I’ve tried, but I never do.
I can feel my body reacting to what’s coming like muscle memory. I’m in a semiconscious state—not awake enough to fight, but not asleep enough to rely on my subconscious to hide the horror that plagues me.
“You never loved me, Coco. If you did, I wouldn’t be dead.”
Farrah’s words slice through me unyieldingly to the torment warring inside me.
Once beautiful, icy blue eyes full of life become vacant—sightless.
“You let her destroy our family—you allowed her to destroy me,” she hisses as her fingernails sharpen. “Now you all must pay.”
Before I can brace myself, Farrah lunges forward, burrowing her nails into my chest and ripping my heart out.
I catapult up, chest heaving as sweat paints my skin. “Fuck,” I seethe, working to catch my breath and steady the racing heart trying to punch a hole through my ribcage.
Running my fingers through my damp hair, I grab the bottle of water on my nightstand, uncap it, and guzzle nearly half of it down.
The blend of my recurring nightmare with memories of the better and happier times of Farrah and Eva only incites my anger.
Grinding my teeth, I spring from my bed. I have the perfect way to sate the homicidal rage.
I slip on a pair of basketball shorts before grabbing my phone and shooting off a text.
Me: You have 15 minutes to be ass up on my bed.
Broken Doll: It’s 3 am. Don’t you sleep?
Me: Tick tick goes the clock and you know what happens when you don’t follow instructions.
Then, I storm out of my room into Coop’s. “Wake your ass up. Our toy is coming to play.”
“Take your clothes off and get on the bed,” I order, watching Eva rub her still-sleepy eyes.
I wait for her to argue, but she doesn’t, and I almost wish she would. I want a reason to punish her—a reason to deny and belittle her.
Yawning, Eva begins to strip out of her clothes. Her black Groveton hoodie drops to the floor, quickly followed by pink spandex shorts. Then she’s there, standing naked before us.
So fucking perfect.
Her skin glows, her full breasts and a cleanly shaved pussy on display.
“Fuck me,” Cooper growls, and I cut my eyes at him. But my anger isn’t at his gaze soaking in Eva’s beauty—it’s at me for the way looking at her dulls my hostility. My jaw flexes as I clench my teeth and storm across the room.
Gripping her throat, I force her head back, exposing her neck to me. Then, I lower my face, running my nose along the column of her throat until it lands on her beating pulse. She smells so goddamn good.
The lavender and chamomile body wash strikes again.
Irritated even further, I lick her skin before sinking my teeth into it.
Eva hisses, but doesn’t complain. Instead, I feel her heart rate tick up and her head tip back, inviting me to take more. Notone to deny myself after such an open invitation, I suck, nipping until I hear her cries for more. “Please. I need—please.”
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