Page 63 of Darkest Obsession

I feel the air move around me and I duck, lunging forward and hitting something. There’s someone in the room with me and they’re fighting me with… a chair? Fuck. I know this room like the back of my hand. I planned for this. I walk towards the window, where the light comes in from the street lamp outside. If I could just see their face.

Once I step into the light and away from the window, my attacker follows, but they’re not stupid enough to have their face uncovered. At least I can see the weapon now. Not a chair. In some cruel fucking irony, it’s a cricket bat. My attacker swings at my torso and I roll out of the way, rushing them and holding my knife just out of sight.

Get close and I’ll get your ass...

When the second swing from the cricket bat doesn’t work, they toss the bat aside and rush for me. Huge mistake. I slash the knife out, but miss and the attacker shoves me over. I grunt as I hit the ground. Fuck. That wasn’t part of the plan. At least I have my grip on the knife. I slash again and scream as the attacker’s hands wrap around my neck.

“GET OFF ME! I’ve got a knife!”

I slash again and get their arm – I think. My attacker moans and I shove them off with my feet. Then I hear an annoying, stupid, idiotic sound.

“Clover! Get out of here!”

Fucking Thomas. He rushes toward me and my attacker shoves him out of the way, sprinting out into the gym hallway.

“GO AFTER THEM!” I yell at Thomas.

“Are you fucking hurt?” he yells back.

“GO NOW!”

I race toward the door and try to get past him, but Thomas grabs my shoulders and catches me in his arms. He’s not wearing thick layers of clothes. I could easily knife him and race after my attacker. Why the fuck did he ruin this?

“What the bloody hell are you doing?” Thomas yells, gripping my shoulders harder and practically shaking me.

I drop the knife and he glances down at the ground. The traitorous street lamp seems to create a beacon directly over my knife. Well, the knife I stole from Jude.

“You’ve got a knife?” He yells.

“And I would have gotten our damned blackmailer too if you hadn’t ruined everything!”

I shove him off me, but Thomas is huge. He doesn’t budge and he keeps looking at me like I’m crazy.

“Turn the lights back on,” he snaps, like some type of angry dad or something. He doesn’t have a right to burst up in here and act like I’m doing something wrong. Maybe if British people had the dang second amendment, he wouldn’t stay worried about my self-defense tactics.

“I didn’t turn them off. He did.”

“Are you sure it’s a guy?”

“I don’t know. I slashed their arm.”

“You could get in huge trouble for this,” Thomas hisses.

“Says the man who stalked me all day.”

“I was not stalking you,” he says, emphasizing every word. He talks so slowly. It would be peaceful if he weren’t always hanging around pissing me off.

“Right. You were just ruining my plan.”

“I thought you were hurt. Pardon me for wanting to step in and protect you.”

“I have a knife. I’m fine.”

“You were knocked down in under thirty seconds and despite having a knife, failed to actually stop your assailant. I saved you.”

“Saved me from putting that damn blackmailer in their place.”

He shakes his head as if he just can’t deal with me. Um, hello, Thomas… You’re the problem!