Page 109 of Obsession

Power thrums a heavy beat in my veins as I press the barrel to his temple. His succulent and sweet fear is palpable in the air. I inhale it deep into my lungs, tasting each heartbeat. My eyes slowly adjust to the darkness. Snow covers the windscreen now that the wipers have fallen still. It’s just us here, in our own little Hell.

“No one is coming,” I remind him. “How long until someone finds your body? A day? Two? A week? A month?”

His chest inflates, and a shaky breath follows. “What do you want? Do you want the car? You can have it.”

I dig the gun into his temple, and he sucks in a breath. My terse voice rumbles in the darkness. “I’m not here for the car, and you know it.”

“What the hell does she see in you, anyway? You’re a fucking psycho.”

I hum an agreeing sound as I reach forward to open his door, the icy wind assailing the inside of the car. “I don’t deny my nature. Now get out.”

“You think killing me will solve anything? Make you feel better?”

“Get out of the damn car!”

His long legs unfold, and he exits the vehicle. The naked trees stretch tall, webbing toward the cloudy sky, their branches weighed down by the heavy snowfall. I climb out, then shut the door before rounding the front of the sleek car.

Elliot watches me carefully, uncertainly, and his eyes flick down to the weapon in my hand.

“Savannah is mine,” I tell him, cracking my neck. “In all the ways that count. Touch her, and I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

Unmoving, Elliot lifts his eyes. He stays silent, tracking my every move, no matter how slight. And I recognize it for what it is: one predator sizing up another. But I have the upper hand, as witnessed by the gnarly limbed trees all around us. “My story belongs to her.”

“Your story?” he asks, his voice laced with confusion.

“I’m a possessive man. In fact, this obsession knows no limits.” I aim my gun at his head. “Savannah is all I can think about. She’s beneath my skin and inside my veins, demanding my full attention. Demanding that I kill for her.”

Elliot inches back, closer to the tree line.

“First thing tomorrow, you hand her my story.”

“Hand her your story? But The Bridge Killer… James, our boss?—”

“Spare me the details. Do you have any idea how murderous it makes me to think of Savannah,my Savannah,writing about another monster than me? A girl like her…she’s drawn to darkness.”

“Are you feeling threatened by another killer?”

I don’t care for the incredulity in his voice. Not one bit. “You give her my story back, and then you disappear from town.”

“You’re letting me go?” He sounds as surprised as I feel.

“You’re not who I’m here for. You’re more of a…” I slowly circle him, and his head whips around to track my every movement. “An annoying inconvenience.” I step around him again, coming to face him. “If you become more than an annoyance, if you step in my way again, I’ll have no choice but to eliminate you.”

Elliot regards me. The tips of his hair are dusted with snow, and his cheeks are red from the icy breeze. We’re almost equals, both hiding our own secrets.

As much as I’d like to kill him, the shake of Savannah’s head back in the elevator told me he was off-limits, for now. Besides, I quite enjoy the fear in his eyes. There are more ways to defeat an enemy than violence. Though a sprinkle of it never hurt anyone.

I pistol-whip him, and the impact rattles my bones as he crumples to the snowy ground like a stack of playing cards.

He groans, cradling his bleeding head. I pocket the gun. “Consider it a parting gift. A warning.” I kick him in the stomach, causing him to double over. Violent coughs rack his chest, and he wheezes through gritted teeth, his forehead pressed into the snow.

Not satisfied, I kick him again. Bloodlust courses through my veins. My thirst for violence tingles every nerve ending. I’m a restless animal stalking its prey. I pace while clenching and unclenching my hands. Then I bend and grab hold of his curlyhair. My fist connects with his face, once, twice. When I drop him, my knuckles are cracked and coated in blood.

Elliot groans pitifully and spits a wad of blood on the ground—stark red against moonlight white.

My lips tip up in a cold, heartless smile as I take in his broken form curled up in the snow and the splatter of crimson beneath him. “I’m glad we could come to an agreement. Don’t fuck with me, understood? You have no idea the kind of evil I’m capable of if you cross me.”

“I’ll disappear,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “You won’t see me again.”