Page 2 of Distorted Obsession (The Distorted Trilogy #1)

Cooper

Colt & Coop

I don’t think there’s ever a proper way to say goodbye. Not to the people who have loved and protected me my whole life. But I’m going to try because you all deserve this much for my cowardice in doing this while you two are away at school and Mom and Dad are out of the country.

I’m sorry… I tried. I really did, but I just can’t. I’ve relied on you both too much for too long, and the guilt of being so weak is eating at me as I pen these words.

What do you do when you can’t silence the villain whispering in your ear? How do you fight it when that villain is you? How do you face yourself in the mirror when all you see is the ugliness festering in your soul?

The answer is you can’t—none of it—all of it—you just can’t.

One person gave me temporary light. She gave me hope that I could defeat my demons—that I could conquer any obstacle. But I should’ve known that no light would last forever. Why would it? I’m shrouded in darkness. It was a joke to think I ever deserved her light.

These last three months battling without her have been a hell I couldn’t imagine. The only person who ever saw my darkness and loved me despite it turned her back on me.

How could she?

How could she go radio silent?

She left… she left, and her brother made her. He said I was so toxic that I was snuffing out her light. His words broke me.

I poured my soul into her, and she filled mine. Now—now, there’s a void where my heart used to beat, and I feel lost

Uncurling my fist, I straighten out the letter my sister left detailing her supposed crimes and the guilt it anchored to her bone-wary soul.

I flatten it on the table in her hospital room, angry that I’ve ruined the last message we will ever get from her.

Then, I reread the note Farrah left one more time as a tear drips down onto the hospital gown of my unresponsive sister.

“Dr. and Mr. Jacobi, I’m sorry. We’ve tried everything. There’s no brain activity. We can keep her on the ventilator, but there’s nothing else we can do.”

I listen to the doctor tell my parents the worst news. My baby sister—essentially dead.

“No… no… no,” my mother shouts. I watch as the usually very well-put-together chief psychiatrist of this hospital collapses. My father catches her and sits on the ground as she beats at his chest. “Bring her back. Make them bring her back.”

Spinning away from my sobbing parents, I make eye contact with Colter. We say so much without saying anything. Then I look back down and finish her last goodbye.

Thank you for being my big brothers. You both always shielded me from all the monsters, but unfortunately, this monster is not one any of you could battle. It was up to me, and I’ve lost.

Don’t let Mom and Dad know that I was so weak—that I let someone ruin me past the point of redemption.

Please don’t let them blame themselves. Make sure they know I love them always.

I made this decision, and it holds no bearing on them. They love me—you all do, and for this reason, I’m sorry for whatever chaos I leave behind.

I have to go now, Coopie and Coco. I promise to be better in my next life. Remember— you are both my rock in this life and the next.

Rah

“No! You need to do something. My baby girl can’t be gone,” my father’s demanding cry rips me from the words that cemented Farrah’s end.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Jacobi. We did everything we could possibly do,” the doctor repeats, and I storm out of the room.

There’s no way I can stay around to watch them be crushed. As I move down the hallway, my brisk walk morphs into a slow jog.

She was alone and hurting while Colt and I were at school. Farrah was on the precipice, and we weren’t there to protect her. Do I know I’m centering myself by assuming the role of magical fixer to whatever may have caused my sister to believe this was the best solution? Yes ! Do I care? No!

My fucking sister took her own life so she could stop being a burden, and I was lost in the pages of learning about fucking coding in Python—a subject that I can run better than the goddamn head of the department.

Dodging people walking by, I run, trying to escape the thought beating in my skull like an African djembe drum— thump, thump, thump . My heart pounds as the crisp winter air touches my skin. Thump… bang… thump… thump… bang.

“Hey, watch it,” a man shouts as his horn blares, but I ignore him. Anger riding me too hard to glimpse in the direction of his yelling.

My feet hit the snow-covered New England ground, outpacing the cold that would normally bite at my skin. Right now, I feel nothing . The numbness punches me in my solar plexus.

I run until my lungs burn—until every part of me screams for reprieve, but I refuse to give in. I’m going to let the emotion Farrah can no longer feel swallow me. Rage… hurt… remorse… inadequacy… failure.

Dropping to my knees, I tug at my disheveled midnight-black hair. “Fuuuccckkkk,” I bellow, letting my pain carry in the wind, whipping across my face as snow begins to fall heavier. Then I hunch over, sobbing as reality strikes—my baby sister is gone.

I don’t know how long I’ve been crying or outside in the cold before my phone rings. I ignore it, praying whoever is calling will go away, but it immediately goes off before the ringtone registers.

Yanking my cell from my pocket, I hit answer, “Colt.”

“It’s time. Mom and Dad have agreed to Farrah’s last wish.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

The line is quiet, except for our heavy breaths. “Just get back, Coop, and do it now,” he barks before he ends the call.

Shutting my eyes, I tip my head back, allowing the snow to melt against my skin. Then I stand and run back to the hospital.

“ Habibati alsaghira , ” my father murmurs before kissing each of Farrah’s eyelids. “Fi hadhih alhayaat walakhira.”

In this life and the next.

I grit my teeth until my jaw aches, peering at the people lining the hallway. Family, friends, doctors, and nurses all stand in honor of my sister’s last walk.

My mother grips Farrah’s hand, squeezing it, while her nurses begin to transport her hospital bed along with all the equipment keeping her alive until her organs can be donated. Tears stream down her face as she looks back, where we are following closely behind.

With each person we pass, the reality that her icy blue eyes, matching Colt’s and mine, will never be filled with mirth as she smiles. I’ll only have the memories of her laughter because I will never hear it again.

We’re approaching the elevator door where the heart of our family will beat for the final time.

Sad faces, filled with condolences I don’t want or need.

What I want is my sister stealing the last bagel before any of us make it downstairs.

I want to see the way she lit up when she was passionate about something.

What I really fucking want is for me not to be referring to my sister in past fucking tense.

I watch Colter whisper into her hair—words only she can hear. I give him as much time as he needs before I take my place beside her.

Leaning over, I kiss Farrah’s still-warm forehead. My eyes shut as I try to reconcile how no life remains in her still-heated skin. Her olive complexion still looks rich and full of life. I have to fight, not shake her, not yell at her to stop playing this game, which is no longer fun.

“Even in death, you continue to bring light to the world around you. I’m so sorry we failed you, Farrah, but I promise never to fail you ever again,” I promise.

Then I stand and watch as she’s wheeled into the elevator.

I don’t move—not even to breathe until the doors close, sealing Eva Rose Pierce’s fate.

Fisting the note in my pocket, I stare into my brother’s eyes and he nods.

Since Callum Pierce decided to take our sister from us, it’s only fair we do the same in return.