Page 17 of Unhinged Obsession

“You, of all people, know what I’m capable of,” I tell him. “What was it the psychiatrist told you when I was a kid? That I’m incapable of empathy? You’d have to really keep an eye on me? I’m dangerous? That stopped when I met Blair. I behave because of her. I don’t want to ever upset her or make her feel bad.” I can feel emotion clawing at the back of my throat. I don’t fucking cry, but it very much feels like I’m going to right now. “If you take her away from me, I will show you how absolutely destructive I can fucking be. She won’t let me near her long enough to find out what was done to her, so I’m giving you a heads-up. It’s probably already too late. You’re all fucked.”

“Elijah, you don’t understand what you’re doing,” my father starts, but it’s my brother Noah from somewhere behind me who answers him.

“Shut the fuck up or tell him where Blair is.” I’d grin if I wasn’t so pissed because Noah does have a penchant for turning up just at the right moment. I wasn’t scared of being here on my own, but knowing I have backup is a good feeling.

"The Black Crown Society has rules. You've spent our entire lives shoving them down our throats, so let's make sure we're all on the same page.” Ah, Benny boy is here too and ready to lecture everyone until they drop dead from pure boredom. “Chosen Ones are to be protected. Saints don't harm them like Onyx Dominion. Saints don't exploit them. If one of your members attacked Blair, then one of your members broke the code you taught the rest of us to bleed for."

“And that’s punishable by death, right?” Noah chimes in. Purely to be antagonistic, he adds, “Correct me if I’m wrong. I missed a couple dozen meetings.”

“Elder Moretti, your sons–” one of the other Elders starts to spew some bullshit, but I cut them off.

“His sons are no longer controlled by him or you. It’s funny how you didn’t think taking the only thing holding us to you wouldn’t turn us into your biggest fucking problems.” I hold the stare of every man seated before me, making damn sure they understand this isn't an empty threat.

When no one challenges me, I tell them, "Either you deal with the sick fuck hiding behind one of our masks..." I pause just long enough for the silence to settle over the room. "...or we will, and I promise you'll like our version a whole lot less."

A laugh cuts through the room, and I don't have to look over my shoulder to know exactly who it belongs to. I didn’t see him move, but he’s clearly headed straight for me.

Bradford has always had impeccable timing when it comes to saying the one thing guaranteed to make everyone around him annoyed, and judging by the smug grin on his face when I finally turn toward him, he knows he's got the entire room waiting to see what I'll do.

"I've been wondering something," he says, folding his arms across his chest like we're having a normal conversation instead of walking into the ass-beating of his lifetime. "Do you think she'll have one of those cute little asthma attacks after the Choosing Ceremony, or do you think she'll save that until after I'm done taking her virginity?"

Bradford never even sees me move, and all I hear is Noah’s big mouth shouting, “Ohhh shit.”

One minute Bradford is leaning against a pew with that same cocky smile he's worn since freshman year, and the next I've got the front of his blazer twisted around my fist as I drive his face into the solid oak hard enough that the sound echoes. His body goes slack for half a second before he starts fighting against my grip, blood already dripping onto the polished wood beneath him, but I don't let him up. I keep him exactly where he is because I want every person in this room to understand that this is the last warning they're getting.

"I've been playing your game," I tell the Elders, smiling in a way that feels completely unhinged. "I've let you hide behind ceremonies and traditions because I believed there was still some version of this Society worth saving, but if you want to change the rules now..." My eyes move from one Elder to the next, making sure every single one of them hears me. "...then every consequence that comes after today belongs to you."

I drop Bradford to the floor, and he crumples like a sack of potatoes. I kick him in the ribs, and I’m about to kick him in the face when I hear Ben say something from the back of the cathedral. “Blair?”

My neck snaps toward Ben, and I watch as he walks to the other side of the cathedral. “Everyone shut the fuck up,” he barks out.

In the quiet, I hear Blair’s voice call out for me. Her voice is weak, wobbly, but it’s definitely my girl.

Benjamin is kneeling beside Blair but facing away from her. When I reach them, I realize that Paris is curled up next to her, completely knocked out. They’re both nearly naked in scraps of pink lingerie.

We move quickly, ripping off our hoodies to drape over their much smaller frames. The thick fabric is doing its best to cover the scraps of pink lace peeking out from beneath it, but it isn't enough to hide the thigh-high stockings tied with little satin bows.

I drop beside her, one hand sliding carefully beneath her knees while the other supports her back as I lift her against my chest. She's warm, frighteningly limp, and when her head falls against my shoulder without so much as a protest, something deep inside me twists hard enough to make me feel sick.

I’m shaking with unbridled rage, but I’ve got her in my arms. That’s something I haven’t been able to say in what feels like an unbearable lifetime. Even in her state, she wraps her hand around the back of my neck. The soft pads of her fingers stroke the skin there like she’s trying to calm me down.

"What happened?" Benjamin demands, staring at our father. I see something snap inside of him in that moment. I’m not the only dangerous one anymore. His expression is harder, more unhinged than I've ever seen it

"We don't know, son. They were already here when we arrived." His jaw flexes as he looks around the room. "They were asleep on the altar, and we were going to look into it after the meeting. We didn’t get a chance to say anything since your brother has been grandstanding."

“Let’s go.” Noah claps me on the back, and Ben wraps our stepsister in his hoodie more precisely than I have the attention span to watch, and then picks her up. “We need to get them somewhere safe, and we can come back and deal with this later.” I fucking hate when Noah has to be the voice of reason, because that only means the situation is beyond fucked.

I don’t spare anyone else in the cathedral another look before I stomp outside, Ben close behind, and Noah behind us in case anyone tries something stupid.

My girl stirs in my arms, and because we’re a safe enough distance away from the cathedral, I slow my pace and brush a strand of hair away from her face.

"Little Dove." Her eyelashes flutter.

Slowly, she blinks up at me, her pupils just a little too unfocused as a sleepy smile tugs at the corner of her mouth.

"There you are. I missed you so much." My chest tightens at her words. I don’t know if they’re true or just the effects of whatever she’s been given. I need them to be true, with my whole heart, my God, do I need them to be true.

“I’ve got somewhere to be,” Noah says, looking down at his phone. He frowns like whatever he’s looking at annoys him. That can only mean that it’s about Ivy. He’s so hell-bent on punishing her for what she did to him, it’s hard for him to focus on anything else most days.