Page 34 of Abundance of Obsession

With fear, I look around the small room. This place doesn’t offer many hiding spots. Ash and I only have a closet, a desk, and two beds.

But I can’t go out to face him either. Something bad is going to happen—I can sense it.

The room spins as I jump to my feet, legs shaking like jelly.

What should I do? What should I do?

A blanket covers Ash’s bed, its ends almost reaching the floor. That’s the best option.

In two steps, I get to her bed and drop to my knees. Since I’m petite, it’s easy for me to crawl underneath. Right when the door to our little room slams against the wall, I hold my breath.

Jeremiah knows I’m here. Tears fill my eyes. My heart wants to burst. It hurts. My hands press against my mouth, trying to stop my breathing. He might hear it.

Right now, all I want is to be invisible.

“Hiding from me, little Zoe? Playing hide-and-seek?” Jeremiah’s laughter follows those words. It’s sinister and reminds me of the horror movies he sometimes watches with the others.

The first tear rolls down my cheek.

He opens and shuts the closet door. His footsteps echo on the wooden floor. I can smell his hatred in the air.

My eyelids are clenched tighter than ever. This can’t be real. If only I could vanish…

The pounding of my heart drowns out everything around me. Neither the outside sounds nor his footsteps reach my ears. It’s like he’s toying with me. Except that I—

“Gotcha,” he says under his breath.

His hands land on my ankles, pulling me from under the bed without a second thought, and a scream fills the entire house. A blood-curdling scream. My own.

On impulse, I grab the floor, but it’s no use. The splinters just dig into my fingertips. I have nothing to hold onto. Nothing to defend myself with.

He’s a few years older than me. Bigger and stronger. My chances are slim.

Jeremiah hauls me across the room.

“And now it’s time for your punishment.”

He drags me into the hallway where our rooms are on the upper floor. I try to break free, but to no avail. His grip on my legs is tight.

My crying grows louder. I beg him not to hurt me. I beg him to let me go. He’s deaf to my pleas.

“Are you going to walk down on your own, or do I have to keep dragging you?”

“I’ll go. Please, I’ll go,” I tell him in a broken voice.

He finally lets go of my legs, and in a surge of hope and energy, I crawl forward on all fours. Not to the stairs, no. Just away from him. Wanting to escape. Wanting to hide.

“Bad, bad girl.” He chuckles before I take two steps. Once again, he grabs me like a rag doll and pulls me to the stairs with all his might.

I don’t know if he planned it or if it’s a coincidence, though I don’t know if coincidences even exist in my life.

The next thing I remember is the world spinning. My head hits every single step leading down. I roll and roll until I land on my back with a groan. Lying on the cool floor, I blink several times, a tremor running through my limbs as the world slowly sharpens. And when that happens, Jeremiah descends the stairs, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. My stomach clenching with dread.

Everything hurts. My jaw clenches too, and a sharp pain shoots through my temples with every slight movement of my head and shoulders. I feel sick.

Why did I do that? I didn’t have to run…

His face is still before my eyes. Dark eyes full of evil. A smile that promises pain. How I hate that face. I would kill him if I could.