Page 8 of Carved Obsession

This is the second time pure luck was the reason I escaped him. The first was when he turned his back on me in that alley, and I ran, hiding in the shadows. I’m dangerously lucky when it comes to evading anything nefarious, but I can’t help wondering if this is a sign that my luck is running out.

I slow the car and take the first left, then pull into the small parking lot behind a three-story building. I barely acknowledge parking the car as that night from six months ago filters through my memories.

Time has flown by and stood still all at once. I’m not quite the same person I was then. Pain and anger left wounds, and the aftermath ruined any leftover good memories. My soon-to-be ex-husband and best friend might not be dead, yet I had to mourn their losses either way.

And that’s why it feels like no time has passed at all...because he’s not fucking letting me go. Bernard has an agenda, and delaying this divorce is how he plans to get what he wants from me. For his sake, I hope he’s not holding his breath.

After what I witnessed in that alley, I couldn’t go home. I went to my parents’ house, trembling with rage once the adrenaline dissipated. I thought witnessing the chilling nature of murder would keep me satisfied for a while, but it only lasted the ten-minute drive. Regardless of the manic laughter that overcame me, the thrill of it all, I managed to keep it together all through that night and the following morning. But the moment I went back toourhouse, I fucking lost it.

Our bedroom was unrecognizable when I was done with it. The expensive mattress was burned and ripped to shreds, the furniture was broken into jagged pieces, and every single thing of his was destroyed. I wanted to decimate every last trace of us, ofthem—my best friend and husband. The fucking assholes.

That night, I slept in the spare bedroom. He had the decency to leave me alone and not return home. At least that first time.

Thoughts of the dangerous man from the alley kept me sane. Kept me alert. Kept me alive.

And he finally found me. In all his tall, dark, and vicious glory. Sweet Jesus, he’s broken out of both dreams and nightmares. And my dreams of him have been...entertaining, to say the least. Intense. But the vision of him in real life doesn’t compare with my fantasies.

He’s more.

So much more.

Tall, lean, and strong. Sinewy forearms showing under the rolled-up sleeves of his white shirt. Harsh yet beautifully sculpted features, and that kind of firm posture that exudes so much confidence—it’s intimidating without even trying.

So many nights I silently willed him to find me, even through the shivers of fear infused with the pleasure I was giving myself at the thought of it. But now that it’s real, the fear seems to beat the pleasure.

What will he do? Will he really kill me because of what I know?

I jump out of my skin when a knock sounds against my window.

“Willow! Jesus Christ.” The blonde-haired woman smiles as she takes a step back so I can get out.

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” She puts her hands up and shrugs.

“You didn’t. You just startled me.”

“You did seem quite lost in thought. All good?”

No.

“Yes, all good, Willow. What are you still doing here? I thought you couldn’t work this afternoon,” I ask, changing the subject. With her, I have to do it fast. The woman is such an empath, she doesn’t take long at all to read you.

“I was just on my lunch break. Carmen asked me to stay while you two have lunch. I’m off after.”

“Oh shit.” I whip around and rush back to the car, pulling a bag of pastries from the passenger seat, along with my coffee. “Almost forgot these.”

Willow narrows her gaze on me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Rolling my eyes in response, I set to walk past her when my phone vibrates, the chirping ringtone following. I fumble to readjust everything in my hands and look at the screen—unknown number.

Fuck.Third call today.

“Go in, Willow. I’ll be right in.”

She nods and complies. Albeit reluctantly, as she’s taking in my barely suppressed exasperation.

Swiping at the screen, I answer and prop the phone against my ear. I don’t speak a word, though.

“Afternoon,wife.” Venom laces his tone. He doesn’t want to be tied to me any more than I want him tied to me. Yet here we are.