Page 56 of Shattered Obsession

Damian spits blood onto the pavement, grinning with cracked teeth. He doesn’t say a word, just slides into the car. The engine growls, headlights glaring, and then he’s gone, peeling out of the lot like a wounded animal retreating to its den.

Xander’s hands are shaking. Mine too. He turns to me, chest rising and falling like a storm is still raging inside of him.

“You shouldn’t have come out here,” he rasps.

His knuckles are soaked in blood, and I’m not sure if it’s his or Damian’s. And yet, when he looks at me, there’s nothing but panic in his eyes. Not rage. Not fury. Fear.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice barely holding together. His hand cups my jaw, thumb brushing my cheek as though he’s afraid I might disappear between blinks.

“I’m not the one bleeding,” I whisper.

“That doesn’t matter.”

He’d burn down the world for me, but he’s terrified of losing me to the flames.

I throw myself against him, clutching his bloodied hands in mine. “If I hadn’t stopped you, you’d be in jail right now. And he’d win.”

For the first time since I opened the door, silence falls over the night. But it’s not peace. It’s the quiet before something worse.

-Xander-

The adrenaline drains so fast I nearly stumble. My hands won’t stop shaking, not from fear but from restraint. I’ve never been closer to killing a man. One more second, one more taunt, and Damian’s life would be on my hands.

I would’ve done it. For her.

Thalia touches my forearm gently, coaxing me back into my body. “Come inside,” she whispers. “Please.”

I follow her steps numbly, the world still ringing with the echo of fists against bone. Inside, she grabs a washcloth and kneels between my knees, cleaning the blood from my knuckles with slow, careful movements.

“Why did you stop?” she murmurs. I swallow hard.

“Because you asked me to.”

-Damian-

Blood fills my mouth, metallic and hot, but the taste doesn’t bother me. If anything, it sharpens me. Every time my teeth hit together as I drive, I taste the reminder. He almost took me out. Almost. The pads of my fingers are sticky against the steering wheel, my vision blurred in one eye where he split me open.

But I’m grinning through the ache because I saw it. The way she came running out. The panic in her eyes. Not for him. For me. She still feels it. Still knows who really owns her.

That boyfriend of hers? He’s nothing. Some grease-stained wannabe hero with anger issues. He thinks he can protect her by breaking me. He has no idea what he’s up against.

I lean back against the seat, ignoring the sting as my ribs protest, and let my mind wander. I picture her the way she looked that night, small under my weight, skin hot with fear, throat tight under my hand. She fought, but she gave in, just like I knew she would. They always do.

That’s what she doesn’t understand. What he doesn’t understand. You can’t scrub me out of someone like soap and water. I’m inside her now. Burned into her. Every time he touches her, she’ll remember me. Every time she closes her eyes, I’ll be there. And soon, I’ll be there for real.

I could make it easy—kick down her door, drag her out, finish what I started—but no. That’s not my style. Fear is better when it’s slow. When it rots someone from the inside out before you touch them again.

So, I’ll wait. I’ll watch. I’ll make her think she’s safe, that he’s got her covered, and then I’ll show her how wrong she is.

I press harder on the gas, ignoring the smear of blood across the dash from my split lip. This isn’t over. It’s never been over. She’s mine.

I’ll take her back, piece by piece if I have to.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

-Thalia-

I don’t realize I’m shaking until the ointment cap slips from my fingers and clatters to the floor.