Page 26 of His Obsession
Moment ruined. He sure knew how to pour the metaphorical ice water into a conversation.
Me: Amazing how you can flip between personalities. Are you sure you don’t have a disorder?
Alek: It’s possible.
Me: You aren’t my boss.
Alek: On the contrary.
Me: I quit.
I couldn’t believe I just said that. I didn’t want to quit; I needed this job! The minutes went by, and he didn’t respond. My worry kicked into overdrive, and I was going to lose my shit.
Me: You know that was a joke, right?
No response.
Me: Alek?
Me: Come on, it’s not funny.
No answer. Shit.It was okay, I’d be okay.Right?
I’d send Randall an email in the morning confirming that Alek was full of shit and I still had my job. A few days ago, I thought I would have been happy to quit and never look at him again. Now, thinking clearer, I wanted to keep it. I didn’t want to find another job. I tossed my phone on my nightstand with a huff and turned out the lights.
I jerked out of a deep sleep, my body shaking, my heart pounding in my chest and ears. I heard a creak from the floor, and the bed dipped as a body sat down next to me. I shot up in bed as a dark towering figure stared down at me. I quickly reached under my pillow and wrapped my hand around my gun, when the man moved and pinned my wrist to the bed.
“Don’t,” he said, the smell of cigarettes wafting off his clothes.
My other hand made a fist, and I punched him with as much force as I could muster. Pain exploded in my knuckles, and I cried out. His grip held firm as he slammed me to the bed and pinned my other wrist. He climbed on top of me, straddling my legs, preventing me from thrashing around.
“Who are you?” I yelled at him.
“That’s not important, I—”
“Get the fuck off me!” I seethed, my teeth clenched, my face hot with rage.
Releasing my hand, he yanked the gun from my fingers, tossing it to the floor. I seized the opportunity and clawed at his face, aiming for his eyes. My face burned as his open palm connected with my cheek and then pinned me back to the bed, stunning me into submission. Tears sprung to my eyes, and my unsoothed face burned.
“Keep your voice down and don’t interrupt me when I’m speaking,” he said with a smooth voice as if waking someone up and assaulting them was a common daily occurrence. “I know that you are with Alek. I want you to bring him to me.”
“No,” I said.
“No?” he questioned me, the silhouette of his head cocking sideways.
“No,” I confirmed. “I will not defend Alek, but I’m not a person who will lead someone to what I’m assuming will be their death. I won’t have that on my conscience,” I said
“Then you have a crucial decision to make, your life or his.” He leaned over and ran his tongue across the cheek he hit. “Let’s see how your morals hold up now.”
I turned my face away from him, the smell of his saliva inducing a gag response. “God, you are disgusting. Leave me out of your squabble,” I seethed. “I want nothing to do with your vendetta or whatever issue you have with him.” I tried pulling my hands out of his grip, but it was useless. I yelled in frustration.
“I’m really hoping you choose his life over yours. I would have so much fun with you.”
Bucking my hips in the air, I tried to throw him off and rip away my hands simultaneously. An amused laugh was all I got for my effort. I screamed a blood-curdling scream, hoping someone would hear me. Perhaps Alek’s men.
“Choose wisely, my dear,” he whispered in my ear. He released my hands, and his fist came barreling down towards my face.
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