Page 14 of Distorted Obsession (The Distorted Trilogy #1)

colter

I smirk at the video, studying the footage for the hundredth time.

“Guess she paid attention when we made her and Rah practice,” Cooper says, his tone a mixture of pride and annoyance.

“That she did,” I quip without looking up from my computer screen when Cooper walks inside. “Her right hook was always dangerous.”

He sits beside me, watching Eva’s fist connect with Liam’s face. “Oof, that shit had to hurt.”

Chuckling, I retort, “He’ll definitely feel it once the adrenaline wears off.” Then I switch the feed to Eva’s room.

She’s lying on her bed, her arms wrapped around the goddamn accent pillow.

There’s a knock on her door. “Eva. It’s me, Cammy. We’re going to grab a quick bite to eat at the food court before practice. Did you want to come?”

Eva gazes at the door but doesn’t respond.

“Is she ignoring her room?—”

Cooper is cut off as Eva responds, “Nah. I’m going to hang here for a bit until practice. Thanks for asking, though.”

“Okay. If you change your mind, text me, and I’ll make sure to bring you back something.”

Eva releases the pillow, rising to her elbows before she replies, “I’m going to do some writing, but I’ll message you if I change my mind.”

“Perfect,” Cooper murmurs.

I arch a brow, peering out of the corner of my eye. “What do you have planned?”

“She’s alone. Play the recording,” he instructs.

“You don’t think it’s too soon?”

Cooper shakes his head. “No. We need Eva running into our arms willingly. It’s the only way we can ensure we’re heeding Mom’s warning,” he explains. “If we get her worked up just enough, she’ll gladly agree to our terms.”

Pondering his plan, I hum, “I love how you think, Coop.”

We wait until Eva’s suitemates exit their room before shifting our attention back to her room. She’s up, her head is angled, and she is staring at the pictures on her desk.

Her face scrunches in confusion as she picks up the framed photo of her and Farrah. “I could’ve sworn I put this up here,” she mumbles, gazing up at the framed image of her and Callum.

“Now,” Coop orders.

“Eva?”

Caught off guard, Eva tenses, whipping her head in the direction of the sound.

“Eva, where are you?”

“Fah,” she exclaims through a choked cry, putting the photo back down before plopping down in her desk chair. “You’re losing it, Evie. Your guilt is making you hear things you wish for.”

My nostrils flare at her confession. I’m glad she walks around with the anchor around her soul or whatever is left of it. She doesn’t deserve peace.

Eva’s gaze oscillates, surveying her room for answers. She takes a deep breath before spinning back around to her desk. Then, she fixes her pictures, placing them back in the correct spots.

“Why are you ignoring me?”

Whirling around, Eva shouts, “Farrah.” In her haste, she bumps the frame at the edge of her desk.

The shattering glass spreads across her bedroom floor.

“No. No. Please,” she begs. “Please… please… please.” Then, without thought, she snatches the photo of her and Farrah from the ground, ignoring the broken glass.

A shard of glass pokes from the back of her hand as crimson liquid trickles down her fingers.

“Fuck,” Cooper snaps. “Doesn’t she feel that?”

Gawking at her inability to sense the pain, I retort, “She’s not—she can’t feel the physical—she’s too lost in the emotional pain. Everything else is void.”

Eva Rose drops to her knees, not even wincing at the gashes I know are being embedded in her skin.

A ball forms in my throat, threatening to undo me, and I find myself nearly asking Coop to shut it off.

We don’t want her mind fractured, at least not yet, but I don’t say anything.

Instead, I swallow back into the pit where my heart sits.

Because fuck feelings and fuck sympathy, they are buried with my sister.

Eva doesn’t deserve a moment’s peace—she barely deserves to continue to breathe.

Hate claws up my spine, scorching any remnants of understanding—killing any hope for forgiveness.

I watch as my sister’s murderer cries at the broken frame, running her bloodied fingers around the edge.

Eva’s head hangs, stealing our view of her sadness, but it rolls off her with such force. Her shoulders are hunched, shaking from obvious crying.

Then I tilt my head and smile before hitting play again.

“You left me. Where did you go?”

My body tenses as the melodic timbre of Farrah’s voice fills Eva’s room, and I have to fight to keep the gaping hole in the center of my chest from filling.

I never want to care about anyone so profoundly again.

To care means to feel, and to feel means heartbreak for when they undoubtedly leave you with a fraction of the heart you had before them.

“I’m sorry, Fah. I didn’t mean to… I just… I just…” Eva’s words trail off. She doesn’t muster the energy to see if she’s really hearing my sister. “I didn’t know Fah… you have to believe me… I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t know what?” Cooper demands, slamming his palm against the desk as if she can hear him.

Then she lies on the floor, hugging the frame to her chest. Tears roll down her face.

She looks so lost and alone. A girl whose family would give her the world and love her unconditionally seems to be mentally on an island of her own making.

The same girl who smiles the brightest and laughs the loudest—she’s the one who has the darkest demons and the greatest pain.

“I promise I’ll make you proud, Fah. I’ll live the life you would’ve in your stead. All my experiences will be yours, but my pain will be my own. You don’t deserve to carry that burden. You’ve already carried enough of them for me… it’s my turn.”

Cooper stands, but I refuse to look away from the broken doll we’ve only just begun to play with.

“Do you think we should listen to Mom and just leave her alone?” he questions, grabbing my attention.

Glaring up at my brother, I hiss, “Don’t fucking grow a conscience now, Coop.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m just wondering if this will be worth it.”

I swear, sometimes we take turns playing “good guy, bad guy.” It was just me wondering if we should do this. There’s something in Evie’s eyes that tempts me to walk away from our plan, but then I remember my sister lost her life and she’s responsible for our loss.

We’ve bled for Farrah, mourned her, ruined ourselves for her—and somehow it’s still not enough. Yet here Coop is losing his balls for the murderer.

“You sound awfully a lot like someone losing their backbone,” I grumble. “What? One sad face and a few tears, and you suddenly feel guilty?”

Cooper’s face flushes red with anger. “Farrah would castrate us for this. Even if she never spoke to Eva again, she wouldn’t want this,” he argues.

Standing, I kick back my chair and meet identical glacial-blue eyes.

“She’s not here, though, is she, Coop?” I push him, and he is forced to step back involuntarily.

“She’s not fucking here, so she won’t speak to Eva again.

And do you remember why?” I growl, running my fingers through my hair so I don’t punch him.

“Because she’s fucking dead. She can’t tell us not to—she won’t be able to ever again! ”

Cooper pauses, his eyes widening in shock, peering down to the spot where I pushed him, and I know I fucked up. He charges across the room, tackling me to the ground.

“You think I don’t know that you fucking prick?”

He pulls his arm back, ready to strike a blow just like Eva did earlier, but I propel up, twisting so he’s on the ground.

“Then stop going fucking soft. She doesn’t deserve it,” I snarl, pointing at the monitor where Eva is now cleaning up the mess. “She still gets to make mistakes—Rah doesn’t. She still gets to laugh, cry, and feel pain—Rah doesn’t. Eva fucking Pierce gets to live—Rah fucking doesn’t,” I roar.

We both fight for control, and neither of us is willing to cede it.

“Evie, what the hell happened in here?” Eva’s roommate booms, forcing us to stop.

“In my rush to get ready, I hit my desk, and it fell,” Eva halfheartedly answers.

Jade studies her and then the state of her room before stepping inside. “You go clean up and get ready for practice. We can see about getting the frame fixed after.”

Eva nods, but she’s not present. She walks to her closet and grabs her clothes before ambling to the bathroom.

Cooper and I stand, fixing our clothes.

“She could really use a friendly hug from you, Farrah. Your death is literally eating all the best parts of her alive,” Jade whispers to the image of our sister. “Don’t worry; I won’t let that happen. Something tells me you would never want Eva Rose to dull her light—not even for you.”

Her words land like a slap I didn’t see coming, but I shove the feeling down deep, burying it where the guilt used to live.

I watch as Jade stands, returning the frame to the exact spot Eva had before we messed with her things, and then exits the room.

Cooper and I lock eyes, and he says, “She’s going to be a problem, isn’t she?

Fixating on the spot Jade was standing, I retort, “Not if she knows what’s good for her.”