Page 25 of Broken Obsession

“I distinctly stated the opposite, actually.”

Eden shook his head. “My life—”

“Oh. I didn’t mean like that. Don’t worry, you aren’t allowed to die, Eden Baldur.”

Eden glanced around the room frantically, searching shadowy corners before setting his sights on the front door.

“It’s just us,” Ares said, knowing exactly what he was thinking. “Multi-player games aren’t my style. I much prefer one-on-one. I mean, if you really want to bring in someone else, I won’t be opposed, but we’ve got to vet them first. I don’t play with just anyone.”

“Is that what this is to you? A game?”

“What else?” He finished and pulled back, pleased that he’d gotten most of the blood off. Now he just needed to apply the ointment for the bruising.

“This isn’t a game to me, this is real life.”

“Is it?” Ares shrugged. “Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

This wasn’t working. They wouldn’t get anywhere if Ares didn’t take control of the conversation and lead Eden where he needed them to go. This reaction was to be expected, however. Anyone would freak out and get angry if someone surprised them with a break-in and a fistfight.

“Where’d you learn those moves?” Ares asked. “You got me good a couple of times.”

Seemingly realizing resistance was futile, Eden finally stopped struggling and stilled in the chair, though his glower remained firmly in place. “I was captain of the boxing team in high school.”

“Really?” Impressive. “Look at you. Is that why Yarrow made Ransom the best at hand-to-hand combat out of the four LI’s?”

“Did he?”

“You didn’t know?”

“I don’t play the game, and I only pay attention to the scripts and enough to casually discuss things at events.”

That was slightly disappointing, but Ares had to remind himself that Vanity was a job for Eden and the others.

More of his fantasies, dashed. So much for long, intimate conversations about the game extending well into the night.

“Too bad Yarrow looks the way he does,” he said to himself absently. “He’d probably make a better choice. But I can’t bring myself to look at him for too long. His face gets blurry like all the others.”

“Yarrow is cute,” Eden argued, and when Ares quirked a brow, he rolled his blue eyes. “I mean, objectively, all right? I’m not into him, but you’re making it sound like he’s ugly or something.”

“Do you think I’m cute?” he couldn’t help but ask. “Objectively or otherwise?”

Did it matter? Ares was going to continue with this game no matter what Eden’s response ended up being, but…It would be nice to be wanted back, even a little bit. To be thought of. Living in someone’s mind was a form of existence, wasn’t it? A form of reality.

Eden would create a version of who he perceived Ares to be, and that version would exist in his mind forever.

How closely related were the versions of Eden in his head and the real one? Admittedly, he’d kept his stalking to the basics, not wanting to overstep or dig too deep and ruin the fun. Discovery, uncovering the truths and the lies, was half the enjoyment of a game, and since he intended to play this one for a while, he’d needed to keep himself as spoiler-free as possible.

“Is that a joke?” Eden surprised him by saying in a clipped tone. “You have looked in a mirror at least once before, haven’t you?”

“Beauty is subjective,” Ares explained. “I know how I see myself. I’m curious how you see me.”

“Oh, I don’t know, as a psychopath?”

“I’m not. I was tested, don’t worry.”

“Well then,” Eden drawled, sarcasm impossible to miss, “I’ll get right on that not worrying train now that you’ve told me to.”