Page 17 of To Obsess

“I’m so sorry about her,” I apologize, feeling my ears burn with embarrassment at the entire situation. “But as I was saying, I stayed here all night. I drank some wine and watched a movie. Abby showed up just a little bit ago. I hadn’t been paying attention to my phone, and she got worried since she knew about the date last night.”

“Do you know anybody who might have wanted to harm him?” he continues, nearly as unfeeling as a robot. The compassionate man from moments ago is gone, replaced with a man who is all business.

I shake my head, strands of auburn hair escaping from behind my ears to get in my way. “I have no idea. I never found out much about his personal life honestly. I just thought the date didn’t go how he wanted, so I wouldn’t hear from him again and that would be that.”

He extends a card toward me. “Thank you for talking with me. If you remember anything else, don’t hesitate to give me a call. Seeing as this is a homicide investigation and you were the last one known to be with him, it’s important that you keep in contact.” His eyes meet mine. When I don’t show an ounce of shock at the word ‘homicide’, his eyes narrow slightly.

I stand, swiping the backs of my thighs to knock off any dust. “I’ll send her right out,” I say, opening the door and leaving him on the porch alone. It appears both of us have dropped the friendly façade.

Chapter 16

KILLIAN

I would say I lost control. That I hadn’t meant to wait outside her gate, then follow him back to the bar when he flew out of her driveway. That I hadn’t enjoyed every second of his sniveling and begging. That I regretted the way I’d made him bleed, over and over and over. But that would be a lie. Gunnar Hayes needed to die.

The kill itself wasn’t as satisfying as I had hoped. The bastard was more cowardly than I could have ever anticipated. At first, he was cocky and self-assured. He’d always been able to talk his way out of any situation. That attitude quickly dissolved when he realized I didn’t give a fuck about his family name or how smooth he thought he was.

It took all of twenty minutes for his resolve to weaken, revealing who he truly was at his core. When he wasn’t begging and pleading for his pathetic waste of a life, he was a blubbering mess of tears and snot. Disappointing to say the least. I’d hoped he would put up at least a bit of a fight.

I hadn’t fully contemplated the consequences of my actions until I saw the police car on Violet’s road, though. My stomach sank as I watched him turn into her driveway, where the gate was still open from last night. As the gravel crunched beneath his tires, dread flooded my system, clogging my thoughts.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I chastise myself out loud. How could I have been so dumb? Of course they would find out she was the last person to see him alive! “Fucking idiot,” I grumble as I rake one hand through my hair, exhaling at the slight pain in my scalp.

I was beyond careful last night, making sure to leave no trace of my presence for the police to find. As much as I would love to take credit for eliminating a disgusting piece of garbage like Gunnar, the last thing I needed was to go sit in a jail cell while Violet was out in the world unprotected.

The only thought that brings me any comfort at all is knowing she has no idea what happened to him. Yes, she was the last person to see him, but she never left her house. They’ll run her cell phone location for the past twenty-four hours, and that will be enough to rule her out as a suspect. I hope.

Two days go by, and Violet doesn’t leave her house. She stares out the window or sits on the porch with her hands wrapped around a mug of coffee. Her eyes look dull and lifeless, face drained of its usual rosy tint. Even her freckles look like they’ve lost some color. She looks haunted.

Watching her, being unable to go to her, is nothing short of torture. Hell, this might be worse than what I did to Gunnar.

Abby opens the front door, taking the other chair on the porch. I’m too far away to hear what they’re talking about, but some of the life returns to Violet’s demeanor. It doesn’t take long before her laugh echoes across the yard and to my spot just beyond the tree line. I’m not sure I’ve ever been more thankful for Abby for staying with her, aside from our initial interactions in middle school when she unknowingly helped to start my obsession with her best friend.

After only a few minutes, the life begins to bleed back into Violet’s posture, and I breathe a sigh of relief. She’s back. My girl is back, and I couldn’t be more proud. Eliminating one problem had created another, and I’d unintentionally put her through hell over the last two days, sending her into a tailspin. But she’s managed to pull herself back out of it. She’s gotten so much stronger over the last few years, and it takes my breath away every time I watch the process in action.

After her college boyfriend broke up with her, Violet was a different person entirely. Since that happened, her mental wellness just hasn’t been the same. It takes her a bit longer to recover from any emotional stress than most people our age, but I’ve watched her work her way through it over and over again, each time being a bit quicker than the last. Things that used to put her in a fucked-up headspace for weeks now only last a day at most.

As I watch from my hiding spot, I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips. I’m in complete awe of this woman.

The scratch of the chair legs against the wooden porch floor flows to me on the breeze, bringing me back to reality. Abby is holding a hand out to her, which she gladly accepts, allowing herself to be pulled to her feet and into a familiar embrace.

Violet has never been big on hugs or touching in general, but she always makes an exception for Abby. Anybody else might get stabbed, though.

With her mood lifted considerably, I’m not too surprised when they disappear inside, reappearing a few minutes later. Violet locks the door behind them, heading for her car. A quick moment of hesitation stalls her stride on the second step before she shakes her head and continues down the last of the steps to the walkway. She’s made a habit of double checking her door since I broke in on her birthday.

With Violet and Abby safely tucked inside her car, I finally feel comfortable enough to make the trek back to my own vehicle. Once inside, I turn the key, listening to the engine come to life as I lay my head against the cool leather of the steering wheel. I’m exhausted. A night of vigilante justice followed by keeping watch on Violet for two days will do that to a guy.

As much as I would love to just sit here and take a quick catnap, I don’t want to draw any unwanted attention. Pulling the last dregs of energy from somewhere deep within my soul, I manage to sit up, buckle my seatbelt, and shift the car into drive. Next thing I know, I’m unlocking my door, slipping my shoes off, and crashing onto my bed face-first. I can’t recall a second of the drive home.

A restless sleep pulls me under nearly immediately, submerging me in a world that consists only of visions of Violet.

Chapter 17

Violet

“I’ll talk to you later, Abby. I’ve got to go,” I say into the phone before hitting the red button to end the call. Sometimes I think she’s worse than my own mother. She’s either been with me or called several times every day since Gunnar was found in the woods by the river.

The police haven’t shared any real updates with us over the last two weeks, only leading to more constant supervision from my best friend. “What if whoever did this comes after you next?” she’s said multiple times. If I’m being totally honest with myself, that exact thought has crossed my mind more than once. Each time I think about it, anxiety claws at my chest.