Page 38 of Obsessive Love
FABLE
“Okay, so tell me again, what happened?” a tall, dark skin detective asked. I’d been at the police station for nearly thirty minutes, and he was the only one to approach me despite my ankle monitor blaring nonstop.
“He kidnapped me from my apartment,” I sighed and shook my head.
I felt like I was going nowhere with him.
Whenever I told him what happened, he asked me to start over.
He’d turned the page in his blue notebook, scribbled something down, and looked up at me like he was trying to decide if I needed to be committed.
“And your apartment is where?”
“In Texas,” I answered.
“As in the state or the city?” he clarified, and I rolled my eyes. “Ma’am, I can’t even understand what you are saying. Your monitor is loud as fuck.”
“He put it on me!” I said, pointing to my ankle. “I woke up from my sleep to find it on my ankle.”
“He put it on you when you were sleeping?” the detective asked, and I nodded. “How did he do that?” he leaned back in his seat and shook his head like everything I said was unbelievable. “And how did you react to it being placed on your ankle?”
I sat there staring at the man, trying to figure out how much I wanted to tell him.
How could I explain that Pyrite ate my pussy to the gods before I even realized it was on my ankle, and then once I knew there was nothing I could do about it.
Hell, I’d let him fuck me seven ways to Sunday since, and I was pretty sure that his kids were playing in my stomach at this very moment?
The longer I sat there, the harder he stared at me, and I realized I was probably going to be the one who ended up in jail because there was no way he believed me.
“Can you be arrested for filing a false police report?” I questioned.
“Are you saying everything you just told me was a lie?” He lifted his brow in question, and I shook my head. “Then why are you asking about false police reports?”
“Because I want to know my rights,” I answered and crossed my arms.
“No, for the most part, you won't be arrested, but you can be charged,” he said, and I nodded. “Now, tell me more about the man who kidnapped you.”
“He’s crazy,” I instantly said. “Like full-blown, probably should get a check crazy.”
“Do you know his name?”
“Py-” I stopped talking and stared at the detective. Telling him Pyrite’s name would make this real. They would track him down, pick him up for questioning, and probably even have me identify him from a lineup. He’d go to jail. Did I want that?
The ringing on the ankle monitor stopped, and I sighed. Maybe I didn’t; perhaps he realized I was serious and would let me go. I stood, took two small steps, and when I lifted my foot for the third, a pain shot through my ankle up to my leg, and I dropped to the ground.
“What the fuck?” I yelled as I held my ankle. The pain shot through my leg again, and I screamed. “I’m going to kill him!”
“Ma’am?” The detective stood from his chair and bent beside me. “Are you okay?”
“The crazy son of a bitch is shocking me!” I yelled as I grabbed my ankle and tried to pull the monitor off. “I fucking hate him!”
“Who is he?” the detective asked again. “And where is he?”
“His name is Pyrite fucking Stone!” I yelled as he shocked me again. “The raggedy bastard lives in a big ass house on the hill. I don’t know the address, but I can point it out.”
The shock stopped, and the alarm sounded off again. I ran my tongue over my teeth and nodded. Yeah, this bastard was going to jail, fuck him.
“Can I help you up? Did the shock stop?” the detective asked. He stood to his full height, which was tall as fuck, and stared down at me.
“Yeah,” I nodded, then took his hand so he could help me stand.
“Alright, let’s go,” he said, helping me leave the precinct. We walked to a dark blue F-250, and he pulled a key fob from his pocket and unlocked the doors. “Get in.”
“Thank you,” I said after he helped me into the truck. He closed the door, rounded it, got in, and started it up.
“Do you remember anything about his house besides that it's on a hill?” he asked as he pulled out of the parking lot.
“It was big and had a long driveway; I remember the entrance we took to get on the highway.”
“Which was?” he asked, and I told him. “I know the area; it’s about a twenty-minute drive. When we get off the highway, tell me what looks familiar to you. Hopefully, we can get there before it gets dark.”
“Okay,” I said. I pulled my leg with the monitor under me and sat on it to help drown out the blaring alarm. It helped a little, but the shit was annoying.
A little over thirty minutes later, because of a wreck on the highway, we were on the street that led to Pyrite's house.
My heart pounded in my chest at the thought of him being arrested.
Initially, the idea of him being in trouble appealed to me, but now that it was becoming a reality, I felt a sense of regret.
“Any of this look familiar?” The detective asked.
“Yeah,” I said, looking around. “Go up that street.” I pointed to the road to the left that went to Pyrite’s estate.
The detective turned and then picked up his radio. “Detective B, reporting to a possible kidnapping off West Holmes Road. Any available units in the area?”
“Hey there, Detective B,” someone from dispatch responded, a little too friendly in my opinion. Her voice sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it due to how loud the alarm was blaring in the truck. “I have you responding to a possible kidnapping. No one is in the area; what do you want to do?”
“I’m going to go ahead,” Detective B replied. “Put me on as an alert.”
“Will do,” dispatch replied. “Be careful.”
“Noted,” he said, then he put the radio back. We pulled up to Pyrite's house, and he shut off the car. “Are you sure this is it?”
“Yeah, this is his house,” I said, nodding. “Pyrite Stone lives here, and he kidnapped me.”
“Alright, sit here,” Detective B said, turning off the truck and getting out. “I’ll be right back.” He closed the door, rounded the truck, and walked to the house's front door.
Detective B walked up the porch steps, knocked on the door, and a few seconds later, Pyrite opened the door.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” I yelled when they pulled each other into a brotherly hug. They separated, and Pyrite gave me a smile that flooded my panties and pissed me off at the same time.
The sound of the locks engaging echoed through the cab, and I grabbed the door handle to try to open it, but the door didn’t budge. Pyrite and Detective B approached the truck, and Pyrite held up his phone to show me. He slid his index finger across the screen, and the alarm shut off.
“I told you that you couldn’t get away from me,” he taunted through the window. “I wasn’t playing.”
“I fucking hate you!” I yelled and hit the window.
“No, you don’t,” he laughed. “Now, are you ready to come into the house?”
“No! I’m not going back in there,” I said, shaking my head.
Pyrite laughed, put his phone in his pocket, and nodded to his raggedy-ass friend, who stepped back and unlocked the truck doors.
I waited until he opened the doors and kicked it with all my might.
The door hit his friend, and Pyrite stepped back, giving me enough space to try to jump from the truck and run away.
The only problem was that my feet never touched the ground, despite moving.
“Put me down, Pyrite Stone!” I yelled as he carried me toward the house.
I fought the entire walk from the truck to the house, even once I was inside.
Pyrite walked me to the kitchen and dropped me into a high-back leather chair I’d never seen.
I jumped to my feet, fist balled, and, without warning, hit him in the mouth.
He ate my damn hit like it was normal and smiled at me.
A small amount of blood was smeared on his front teeth, and all he did was laugh.
“I missed the fuck out of you,” he chuckled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“That was the longest three hours of my life.” He nodded, and the look in his eye was so crazy that I knew I was never leaving.
I tried to run, but Pyrite grabbed me around my waist and put me back in the chair.
“If you run, I’m going to shock you, and I really don’t want to do that again. ”
“You son of a bitch!” I swung again, but I missed.
“Chill!” Pyrite said, grabbing my arms and forcing them to my side.
“If you try to hit me again, you aren’t going to like what I do.
” Instead of trying to get out of his grip, I tried to head-butt him, but he moved before I could connect.
Pyrite forced me into the chair and turned to the Detective, who was standing in the doorframe watching us. “Let me get your cuffs, G.”
“You better fucking not,” I yelled when he went to his hand went to his waist where his cuffs were. “No!”
“Cuff her to the chair,” Pyrite instructed. His stupid ass friend did what he said, and I swear I hated both of their asses. “Now, you’ll sit there until you get your attitude together.” He stood and stepped back.
“Fuck you, Pyrite,” I said, mugging him. I refused to cry, even though that’s exactly what I wanted to do. This shit was so embarrassing and over the top.
“You have, which is why I’m acting this way.” He kissed the top of my head and then nuzzled his face into my neck. “Today, you smell like peaches. Is that because you know it's my favorite fruit?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I said as I tried to move away from him.