Page 53 of Shattered Obsession

Because I am not alone in the dark anymore.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

-Xander-

I’ve never hated silence more than I do in this moment. It hangs heavily in the small apartment, an oppressive weight pressing down on both me and Thalia as she curls against me on the couch, her body trembling slightly. She hasn’t spoken a word since she revealed the unsettling news about the car, and the silence between us feels thick and suffocating. Every now and then, she takes a shaky breath, as if trying to suppress a tidal wave of emotions, holding back the surge that threatens to pull her under. My mind races with thoughts of what I’d like to do to anyone who would dare to threaten her peace.

If it’s Damian, if that bastard is lurking in the shadows again, stalking her and invading her space, I don’t know how I’ll keep a lid on my fury. But I know I have to. I can’t let my rage lead me to reckless decisions, not when she needs my strength and steadiness.

Gently, I smooth my hand over her back, letting my touch convey the reassurance I wish I could put into words.

“You’re safe right now, Thal. You know that, right?”

She nods against me, her forehead resting against my shoulder, but I can feel her tension. Her muscles are rigid beneath the fabric of her shirt. I can’t help but think maybe she’s right not to fully believe my words. I lean down and press a soft kiss to the top of her head, forcing my voice to remain calm, to soften the edges of the worry that lingers in the air.

“I can’t be here every second, baby. I wish I could. But we’re not going to let him, or anyone else, get near you again. So, we need a plan.”

Her head tilts enough for me to catch a glimpse of her wide, weary eyes. “What kind of plan?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. The vulnerability in her expression strikes me, and I can feel my heart clench at the thought of her being hurt.

“The kind that ensures you’re never alone in the dark with your thoughts. Or with him,” I respond, each word fueled by a determination to protect her. My mind races, gathering ideas like a storm brewing on the horizon. “I can install motion-activated lights outside the apartment or put new locks on the door. Honestly, I’ll buy you a taser, pepper spray, whatever you want. And I’ll be here more often, staying the night. I’ll crash on the couch if that makes you feel better. I don’t care if I have to live out of a duffel bag for the time being. If he’s back, I’m not giving him a single opportunity to hurt you.”

She swallows, uncertainty flickering in her dark eyes. Her lips part, as if she wants to argue, but the fight seems to die in her gaze.

“I don’t want to live like I’m being hunted. It’s not just the car. It’s everywhere. In my head. In the way I check every lock twice. In how I panic every time a notification pops up on my phone.”

“Hey. Look at me. You’re not being hunted,” I say. “You’re being protected.”

A wave of resolve washes over me. I tip her chin up so she can see me, really see me.

“You’re not prey, Thalia. You’re not his to stalk or break. You’re mine, and I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe.” She thinks I’m saying it to reassure her, but the truth is, I’m saying it to remind myself. Because the longer I think about that asshole watching her, the more my control slips. Rage roils beneath my skin, hot and relentless, poisoning rational thought.

If Damian wants a fight, I’ll bring him a fucking war. Not reckless violence. Not blind anger. Strategy. I picture the motion lights. The locks. The pepper spray. I’ll wire every entry point like Fort Knox. I’ll memorize every face in the parking lot, every car that parks longer than it should. I don’t care if people say I’m paranoid. Paranoia keeps people alive. Thalia looks fragile now, sitting there twisting her fingers, her breath trembling, but I know what she’s capable of. I’ve seen her fight tooth and nail to stitch her life back together piece by piece. She’s not prey. She’s a survivor. And God help the man who tries to drag her backward.

Her eyes glisten with unshed tears, and she finally nods, pressing her forehead to mine with a sense of shared understanding.

“Okay.”

The confirmation settles something deep inside me, and I wrap her tighter in my arms, feeling her warmth seep into my skin. I’m already drafting a list of tasks in my head, mapping out where to install the lights, what locks I need, mentally preparing for the hardware store run first thing in the morning. I may not be able to erase her fear, but I can damn sure build walls strong enough to keep that bastard out. And if Damian ever dares to cross them, he won’t walk away from it.

I’m halfway through mounting the first light by the front door, gripping the drill tightly in my hand, when Thalia’s voice slices through the stillness. “Xander…”

The way she says my name sends a tightness through my chest. There’s something fragile in her tone, a note of hesitation that tells me this isn’t just a casual interruption. I turn, wiping the sweat that has collected on my forehead, climbing down the ladder in just a few quick strides to stand in front of her.

She’s by the front steps, her fingers entwined nervously in the hem of her shirt, a small gesture that speaks volumes about the anxiety she’s holding within. “There’s... more,” she admits softly, her voice trembling like a leaf in the wind. I can feel my heart race, each beat echoing the sense of impending revelation.

“More what?” I ask, keeping my own voice steady, though my insides churn with apprehension.

Her gaze drops to the floor, shame pulling her shoulders in, as if the weight of her unspoken thoughts is too heavy to bear alone. “The car. The silver one. It wasn’t just the park.”

My jaw clenches involuntarily, the tension radiating through my entire body as I shift closer, desperate for clarity. “Thal. When?”

Her voice quivers but she presses on, determination propelling her forward. “The first time was… on the date. When we went out together.”

Even though I wasn’t aware at the time, it feels as though I’ve just been punched in the gut.

“I thought I saw it then, but I told myself I was imagining things. And then… the day I was home alone, before you got back from work. I saw it again, parked outside for a while. I didn’t say anything because I thought it would sound crazy. I didn’t want you to think I was broken. When I saw the car the second time, I stood by the door for twenty minutes with my keys clenched in my hand. I thought that if he breaks in, I can at least fight.”

My eyes sharpen with fury. “You shouldn’t have to fight alone.”