Page 67 of His Obsession
I pulled my phone from my pocket, clicking on the video from an unknown number. I nearly dropped it as her screams penetrated my soul and tore me to pieces.
One never expects to experience certain terrible things in their life, except death. We all know that is the inevitable fate of everyone that walks this earth. I was praying for my premature demise.
Praying for the Grim Reaper on Alek’s back to peel away, come to life, and walk me out of here, to a version of heaven I had imagined since I was a little girl. A version reminiscent ofWilly Wonka. White chocolate rivers, boats made of taffy and chips and dip everywhere—my heaven was edible because I was practically starving when I was a child. Much like I am now, although food was the last thing on my mind. Pain and Alek were at the forefront, reminding me of two things, one I couldn’t get away from and one I needed.
I missed him.
It was a simple declaration for most, but given my situation and what I had learned about Alek, it wasn’t easy for me to admit. I wanted to see him again, tell him I was sorry. Tell him I was so stupid, and it was my fault.
To tell him, I learned to adapt, but I didn’t know if I would overcome it.
Hindsight, right?
We always think we know what’s right, what’s best at the time, and then we realize how foolish we were when we looked back.
How we should have done things differently. I was stupid to think I could have done anything to change this situation. I should have told Alek about my plan while we were at the club and not written that ridiculous letter.
Looking back, I could see how utterly flawed my plan was. I relied solely on Alek being inquisitive and finding out in time to protect himself and me.
When he told me he had men posted all over the club, it thrilled me that my idea was coming together. That he was as controlling as I expected, but it wasn’t my plan that came together; it was Jimmy’s.
He just needed that one opportunity to screw Alek, and I gave it to him. After all, I didn’t need saving, because I thought I could fix it on my own.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
There was a time when I didn’t want his help or for him to touch me. He irritated me. He was commanding and controlling. It was the antithesis of what I wanted in my life, but my body had other plans. My body, the one part that wasn’t supposed to make decisions, was hot and cold with him, a back-and-forth tug of war. My brain tried to resist, but it was futile. I craved him like a drug.
What I would give now to have one more night.
Now I didn’t know if I’d ever see him again or if he’d want to look at me after what Jimmy had done to me. The cigarette burns marred my thighs, creating ugly craters that resembled pockmarks. The white, dead skin sat between a vermilion-colored ring, my creamy skin now red and inflamed.
This was his preferred method of torture. I gave him the most reaction for minimal effort. I was hoping, eventually, he’d need to leave and buy more smokes. He had to be running out.
He’d kept me tied to the chair for I didn’t know how long—felt like days. My legs burned and ached from being held in the chair for so long and from the burns.
When my bladder burst and urine coated my injuries, a new excruciating fire ignited. Jimmy doused me in a bucket of ice water and scrubbed my legs with a rough sponge, causing me to black out. When I finally came to, he showed me the recording of my cries and made me watch him hit the button, sending it to Alek.
Jimmy called it a “two for one deal,” he got to torture Alek and me simultaneously. It broke my heart thinking of Alek watching that video. After that, I vowed not to give him the reactions he desired.
“He killed her, you know,” his voice looming over me.
I flip my head up and try to look back at him. “Who?” I snap.
My voice raw from screaming, my jaw sore from grinding my teeth. My mouth parched, begging for moisture. I couldn’t take much more of Jimmy and his ludicrous storytelling. There were times he told me about Alek and the times he sat in silence, admiring his work or when he talked with himself—slapping his head, acting like a goddamn loon.
“Alek, he killed the love of my life. Shot her dead in my arms.”
His revelation startled me. I couldn’t believe Alek would do that without reason. He didn’t seem the type, but I evidently didn’t know much about him. Seeing as how he has stalked me for over a year.
No. I refused to believe this. He was lying.
“It’s true, I tried to kill him after he did, but he framed me for her murder and the attempt on his life. He testified against me, landing me on death row.” Walking around to stand in front of me, I scowled at him. I remembered Alek saying he’d met Randall at a murder trial.
This had to be the same case.I mean, how many murder trials do you go to at sixteen?
“I wasn’t always like this, you know. I had a family and a job. Prison changes a man when you are sitting on death row, especially for something you didn’t do.” The smell of cigarettes and booze followed in a cloud behind him. The asshole was wasted.
“Somehow, I still can’t find any compassion for you.” I shrugged a shoulder. “If you were such a good man, then why are you doing this to me? Prison doesn’t force you to do what you are doing now—torturing an innocent human being.”