Page 13 of To Obsess

Before I have time to think about the consequences of what I’m about to do, I slip behind the wheel and turn the key. One deep breath later, I’m shifting into first gear and pulling out of my parking spot. When I glance up at the rearview mirror to see his motorcycle behind me, the butterflies suddenly feel a lot heavier.

It doesn’t take long before I’m shutting the car off as his bike slows to a stop beside me in the driveway. As he pulls off his helmet, there’s a gleam in his eyes that wasn’t there when we left the restaurant, but I force down the feeling of butterflies fluttering in my chest. Not the high school, I “just got my first kiss” kind of butterflies. These creatures have heavy wings and sink to the bottom of my stomach as the seconds pass.

Glancing at the porch, I see the light still on and breathe a sigh of relief. At least that part of the night seems to be going right.

With a small smile, I lead him up the front steps and turn the key in the front door. The moment we’re inside and the door closes, Gunnar is pushing me up against the cold glass, mouth savagely taking mine.

I do my best to kiss him back, quickly opening to take his assault, but it’s not enough to satiate him as his hands slide up inside my hoodie to run over my stomach. Lowering my arms to put my hands on his wrists, I push with as much effort as I can muster while being smashed between his body and the door.

“I thought maybe we could grab a drink. Keep talking a bit? Maybe watch a movie and see how the night goes?” I stammer, trying to pull enough oxygen into my heaving lungs.

The laugh that escapes his lips is nothing short of menacing, sending a shock of terror through my nervous system. He swipes the corner of his lips, pulling away from me with a nearly imperceptible shake of his head before pulling his hand back. In a flash, his hand connects with my cheek, snapping my head to the left.

Tears well in my eyes as pain pulses in my cheek. I grab the side of my face as I look up at the blurry edges of his face through the tears as they begin to fall. The shock settles as he steps closer to me again, reaching behind me to grasp the door handle.

“You’re nothing but a fucking tease,” he growls, flinging the door open as he shoves me aside. The impact with the floor sends fireworks of pain throughout my body as I scramble backwards away from him. He storms out, leaving the door standing wide open. I hear the bike start up as he hits the throttle, sending gravel flying over my car and up onto the porch as he speeds down the driveway.

As the sound of his exhaust quiets, my chest heaves. Seconds later, I can no longer hear him, no matter how hard I strain my ears, sobs wrack my body. I pull my knees to my chest in the middle of the entryway floor, wailing as something in my soul shatters. For the gods only know how long, I remain on the floor, entirely inconsolable with the front door wide open for the world to hear my sorrow.

Chapter 14

KILLIAN

I watched the confusion wrinkle her brows as she unfolded the note I slipped on her desk before she sat down.

For weeks now, I’d been trying to muster the courage to ask her to a movie. For weeks, I’d backed out at the last second. In a split-second decision, I slipped the folded scrap of paper onto her desk before sliding into my seat. The second her fingers touched it, regret overwhelmed me.

Her eyes locked with mine for only a fraction of a moment, but it was enough to know she didn’t feel the same. I had taken a shot but come up empty. With a smile that was more like a grimace, I put my head down and focused on pretending I hadn’t just embarrassed myself.

“Hey,” she said, shifting nervously from one foot to the other in front of my desk.

“Hey.”

“That was a sweet note,” she began with forced politeness. “I’m seeing someone right now, though. I’m sorry.”

“No worries,” I said, refusing to lift my head and meet her gaze. I was embarrassed enough without having to look her in the eye and see the pity shining in them.

“Okay.” Still, she didn’t move. She stood in front of my desk, waiting for me to say something further.

When another minute went by without a word, she uttered, “I really am sorry, Killian. For what it’s worth.”

The rumble of a motorcycle broke my reverie, throwing me back into the present. I’d only been sitting at the end of her driveway for eighteen minutes now—not nearly long enough for their date to be over.

As the bike sped through the gates, I was able to catch a glimpse of his face. The idiot apparently thinks he’s invincible considering he’s riding without a helmet and came flying out of the driveway, hardly looking to see if anything was coming. Something is definitely wrong. Nobody flees a date like a bat out of hell when things went well.

“Fucking hell,” I grumble to myself, turning the key over to start the car. With Sleep Token blaring in my speakers, I speed along the gravel road, hoping to catch up with him.

Gravel dust boils behind my car as I speed down the street, focusing on the taillight in front of me. My thoughts shift to a different time and place, back when I took another man hostage and did unthinkable things to him. Back to Landon.

With him, it wasn’t so much about what he had done to Violet. I was jealous that she decided to give him a second glance, then a date, and she seemed sooooo freaking happy about it. That ugly monster built inside my chest until I had to find some sort of relief. The rage overtook my senses, blocking everything else out until I truly felt as if I had no choice. The rest, as they say, is history. And there’s nothing we can do about that now, so I silently count to ten, pushing all thoughts of anyone but the fuckhead in front of me out of my mind.

It doesn’t take long before I lose track of him, though. Maneuvering the town streets is much more difficult in my car than it would be on his bike. Circling the area quickly proves futile. I take a right turn, heading back toward my apartment.

On a whim, I swing into the bar parking lot. It looks like a ghost town, but sure enough, fuckboy’s motorcycle is parked next to the building. I find him squatting next to the brick building, cigarette hanging from one side of his mouth as he scrolls, phone held loosely between his knees. The dim light of his phone is just enough to showcase his annoyance at my interruption. He slides it into his front pocket as he stands, then takes two steps toward my car.

“Can I help you?” he growls, tossing the cigarette to the ground before squishing it with the heel of his boot.

Pulling the pistol from the center console, I pull two deep breaths into my lungs before exiting the car, leaving it running. “Actually, you can,” I say with a hint of a smile. “Get in the car.”