Page 6 of Deadly Obsession

The upstairs office area of Underground Park Slope is like a maze, but I manage to find an exit without running into anyone. I slip out the back door. While waiting for a taxi to stop, I shift on my feet and glance over my shoulder a few times. After a painful five minutes, a cab stops, and I blow out a long breath of relief when I get in and it takes off.

Then I cry because I’m an idiot for running away.

Like I always do.

Like a fucking coward.

Chapter 2 – Elias

Apained sob rips from the man’s bloodied mouth. Piss and vomit sting my nose, and my knuckles are split open with how many times I’ve punched this fucker in the face—enough to break his nose and cause both of his eyes to swell.

Yet he’s still alive.

“You think you can go around touching women without their consent?”

His words are gurgled, and he coughs, attempting to clear the blood from his throat.

“How many, Adam Shaffer of the Upper East Side?”

I don’t need to clarify. I’ve asked the question three times now, but he’s vehemently denied being a predator.

He’s lying.

I can always tell.

The way they panic and come up with any excuse as to why they’re not a rapist.

I’m a good person!

I’m educated!

I’m successful!

I donate to charity!

I go to church!tops the list.

I pick up the pliers, then grab his hand. He tries to tug his arm away when he feels the teeth grip his thumbnail.

“I will rip these out until you start talking. And don’t lie, Adam. I know everything about you. Where you work, your credit score, how many times you’ve been arrested. Who your family is. They’re quite well known in New York City. Wouldn’t it be a shame for the world to find out that the socialites’ son is a sexual predator?”

My team has been busy the past hour gathering this information while I fucked Sage in my office.

I’m anxious to get back to her.

But first, I need to kill the asshole who cupped her cunt on my dance floor.

I clench the pliers and jerk my hand up at an angle. It takes a few tries before the nail dislodges from the bed. I tug and it rips out. He squeals like a pig and flails his body around in the chair I have him tied to.

“One down, nine to go. And there’s always your toes. Or maybe I’ll just cut off your cock.”

“No. Please,” he says, his voice scratchy from yelling.

I wait, expecting him to talk.

He says nothing.

Nail number two goes, and Adam nearly passes out. I backhand him, and he coughs himself to full attention.