Page 75 of Psychotic Obsession

"I...I don't have my passport."

"I do. It's in the bag I packed." He grabs my hand and walks us to the car. I stay completely silent, thinking of ways to get out of this but not doing anything that would make him react. "I went to your place the other day, and you were gone. I figured one of those jerks got a hold of you. So, I came up with a plan,a way for us to be happy without me having to kill Ewan. By the time I got back from arranging everything, you were taken to the hospital."

He opens the passenger side door and gestures for me to get in.

"I can't leave," I protest.

"Sure you can," he replies, groaning as I shake my head. "Get in the fucking car, Aria." His snappy tone makes me jump, resulting in me settling in the passenger seat and buckling my belt while he slams the door. "I have a hotel nearby. We can go there until the next boat."

Okay, think, Aria. Think of ways to get out of this. I could grab the steering wheel while we're driving, but that could harm the baby. Oh God, I can't do anything without my phone–unless I try to steal his? Would he hurt me if I tried? Would he hit me? Should I tell him I’m pregnant, or will he do something to the baby?

I look at him, his glasses long gone, a hard look on his face, and decide not to mention the fact I’m carrying his child. I’ll tell him eventually, but only when I’m safe.

We reachthe hotel half an hour later, a small bed and breakfast situated next to the water, a ten-minute drive from Stranraer's boat terminal.

He helps me out of the car, and I can't contain my trembling as he makes his way through the reception, my eyes on the lady, begging her silently to help me. She takes no notice, typing away on her computer with her glasses falling halfway down her crooked nose.

"When did you get discharged?" he asks as he opens the door for me, pulling my jacket off my shoulders.

"I didn't."

Frowning, he takes off his own jacket, placing them both down on the chair next to the door. "What do you mean, you didn't? My girl is becoming ruthless."

I don't respond, because my eyes are glued to the beautiful hotel room: a four-poster bed with roses spread across the bed.

Is he trying to be romantic? While trying to kidnap me?

"It's the only room they had left," he says, as if he can read my thoughts. "I'll put your bag in the bathroom so you can shower and change."

I watch him nervously walking around, not giving me any eye contact and fumbling with the straps of the bag. He turns his back to me to place stuff on the bed, and I spot my phone again.

Hugging myself, I swallow.

"You should probably get out of those clothes, since they're wet from the rain."

I need him to take his clothes off. I need to get my phone back.

Yes, he's very evidently mentally unwell. Yes, he needs help. And yes, I know he has done some awful things to me. But I can't just erase my feelings. The butterflies flutter in my core as he looks at me, thinking my comment about undressing is for something sexual.

"Do you think we have time to?" he asks, walking to me and stroking his knuckles down my arms. The tingling feeling goes straight between my legs, making my breath hitch.

"Time to what?"

He bites on his bottom lip, reaching for the strap on my shoulder and slowly pulling it down. My breathing becomes uneven, my legs crossing from the intensity of his touch alone.His cheek grazes mine as he whispers in my ear. "Do we have time to fuck?"

"Under one condition," I say, pressing my hands to his chest as I walk him back to the edge of the bed, making him sit down. "Tell me everything you’ve done to me."

He groans as his hands grab at my hips, pulling me to straddle his lap. "Hmm, no. I don't think I will."

I shrug, attempting to stand from him, yelping as he pulls me back down. "You want me?" I ask, wrapping my hands in his hair and tugging it so I can nip at his neck.

"More than you know," he replies breathlessly.

I grind against him, taking a deep breath and hoping he buys into it. I press my lips to his, taking full control as my tongue pushes through his parted lips and runs along his.

He breaks away from the deep kiss after a few minutes, both of us panting.

“Tell me you’re not mad at me.”