Page 2 of Obsession

His small office, with news articles lining the walls, a desk, which is his pride and joy, and a lone bookshelf, feel even smaller now that Elliot’s anger sucks out all the oxygen.

“I admit it’s not ideal—” he starts, but Elliot cuts him off.

“Why would Robbie Hammond, one of the most notorious serial killers in the country, refuse to be interviewed by anyone else but her?” He waves in my general direction. “Whyher?”

Sucking on my teeth, I cross my arms, ignoring the spark of annoyance in me at his crappy attitude. Despite my dislike for him, he has a point. I’ve only worked for the paper for a little under two months, and suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, the paper gets an interview request from none other than Robbie Hammond, but with one stipulation—it has to be me.

In exchange for an exclusive, he has agreed to let me interview him for an hour once a week leading up to hisscheduled execution next year. It’s a big fucking deal, one our small newspaper can’t turn down. It would be foolish to.

But why me specifically?

Unease and intrigue war inside me. However, I’m also flattered, which is alarming as hell. Who wants to catch the attention of a killer? More importantly, how did it even happen? He’s been locked away for sixteen years.

My curiosity resembles a weedy patch on a lawn at this point. Regardless of how I try to contain it, it’s becoming uncontrollable. I want to find out why he chose me and not the successful, hardworking reporter beside me who’s currently glaring daggers my way.

Elliot has always been intense. When I set foot inside this building, he was the first to introduce himself.

James clears his throat, straightening his askew tie. “It’s out of my hands, Elliot. Besides, this could be a good opportunity for Savannah. Yes, she’s new, but I am confident she will do well.”

“Let me accompany her, at least,” Elliot demands, making me narrow my eyes on him.

“What’s your fucking problem?” I growl.

“Now, let’s not argue?—”

Elliot turns toward me, shoulders stiff. “My fucking problem? Robbie Hammond is a serial killer, or have you forgotten?”

I snort. “It’s not like I’ll be alone with him.”

“That’s beside the point. He’ll manipulate you?—”

“Manipulate me?” I snap, anger flushing through me. “Do you not think I can handle myself?”

“Why do you think he demanded you?”

James watches our exchange tiredly, hands flat on the table, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple.

Elliot and I have clashed heads ever since we first met, because he’s a competitive asshole who won’t back off. I took thisjob out of sheer desperation after an email dropped in my inbox one day advertising for a reporter.

When I showed up for the interview, James looked surprised, claiming he knew nothing about an advertisement, but admitted he could do with someone as seemingly eager as me.

And so here I am, refusing to let my colleague intimidate me because he hoped that this job would land on his table.

“You’re just jealous, that’s all it is,” I spit, barely restraining an eye roll.

James pours himself a glass of water and gulps it down.

Sneering, Elliot turns on his heel and storms out, but before he slams the door shut, he points a finger at me, “You better not mess up this opportunity. Do you have any idea what this could do for our paper?”

I flip him off, ignoring James’s tired groan as the door shuts.

Dragging his hands down his perspiring face, he blows out a long breath. “You two are going to be the death of me one day.”

“I think he took it quite well,” I snark.

James shakes his head, sitting back.

“It’ll do him well to take his pride down a peg,” I remind him, but he just waves me off.