Page 126 of Obsession

BEATRIX

Darkness has settled on the parking lot when I exit the doors to the music school where I take piano lessons.

I root through my bag for my car keys.

Mom will throw a fit if I return home late again. It doesn’t matter that I’m a few weeks shy of my nineteenth birthday; my overprotective mom still treats me like a child.

After locating my keys, I cross the almost empty parking lot. One of the lights is out, and I’m almost certain that wasn’t the case when I arrived.

The car blips as I unlock it.

I open the door, toss my bag onto the passenger seat, and slide inside, thankful to be out of the cold.

It doesn’t take long to realize that something is wrong. No matter how many times I turn the key, the car won’t start. I try again, releasing a frustrated sound when the engine splutters and dies.

Slamming the steering wheel, I release a string of expletives before rubbing my face almost furiously. Mom will kill me.

I search my backpack and frown, growing frenzied in my movements when I can’t locate my phone. Where the fuck is it? I know I had it with me.

Defeated, I toss the bag back down and throw open the door.

After a fairly mild day, the temperatures have dropped and the wet ground has iced over. I tighten my jacket around me to stop my teeth from chattering, but the thin material does little to ward off the cold.

I round the car and open the hood, my arms quaking from holding it up. I stare down at the engine, then curse under my breath. Where do I even start? I know nothing about cars.

I’m just about to lower the hood when a gravelly voice startles me.

“Car troubles?”

Dropping the hood back down, I swing around.

My heart catches at the sight of a tall, broad-shouldered man, his face shadowed beneath his cap. Before I can open my mouth to reply, he walks past me and lifts the hood.

He hooks it in place with ease, his shoulders shifting beneath his black jacket. “Let’s take a look.”

I scan the parking lot. “Where did you come from?”

“My car is the red Audi. I’m waiting to collect my nephew from his guitar lesson, and I saw you. Thought I’d see if I could help in any way.”

There is, in fact, a red Audi parked near the entrance. I breathe easier.

He works methodically, knowing his way around an engine, and I crane my neck, curious to try to see what he’s doing.

Oil smears his tattooed fingers as he twists a bolt, and the muscles in his arm strain, visible beneath the fabric of his jacket. He’s older than me, old enough to be my dad. Old enough that my mother would clutch her pearl necklace if she saw me now, checking out a complete stranger in a darkly lit parking lot.

Straightening up, he shuts the hood and rounds the car. He slips inside, one long jeans-clad leg, covered in sculpted muscles, still on the ground outside the car.

I shift on the spot, mesmerized by his big, loosely tied black boot so close to my brown Uggs. The car roars to life, and he revs the engine once, twice, before unfolding to his full height like a lazy cat. “She works again.”

I’m just about to thank him when the dim streetlight falls on his face, a face that had been in shadow until now, a face I’ve seen on the news every night for weeks.

In a swift move, he pulls a gun from the inside of his jacket and presses it to my stomach. His lips curve into a sinister smile. “Let’s go for a little ride, sweetheart.”

I dart my eyes around the parking lot, looking for witnesses, but it’s just us here. Robbie Hammond cocks the gun as the thought of running enters my head, almost as if he knows what I’m thinking. Maybe he can see the indecision in my eyes.

“Don’t get any ideas. Get in the fucking car.”

With my heart in my throat, I let him guide me to the passenger door. His shadow looms behind me, a grotesque monster in the night.