Page 64 of Shattered Obsession

Every second she’s afraid, he wins.

I promised her he would never touch her again.

And I don’t break promises.

All I can picture is Thalia shaking, alone, trapped inside four walls too thin to protect her. The world narrows to a single point. Get to her.

“Talk to me, baby,” I urge, forcing my voice to remain calm even as I unravel inside. “Stay on the phone with me. Tell me where you are.”

“I’m inside. The doors are locked,” she whispers, her breath quaking in my ear. “Xander, I don’t know what to do if he tries to⁠—”

“He won’t,” I growl. “Not while I’m breathing. You just hold on. I’m almost there.” My hand tightens on the steering wheel as I remember her voice the night she told me what Damian did. The shaking. The numbness. The way she said she didn’t know where her body went. No one should know that feeling.

I press harder on the gas. Each second is a battle, an internal clash between fury and terror—fury that Damian has the audacity to show up again; terror that I won’t reach her in time. But I refuse to let him take her from me again. Not now, not ever.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

-Thalia-

My phone vibrates violently in my trembling hand, Xander’s voice cutting through the thick tension in the air like a lifeline.

“Talk to me, baby. Breathe. I’m almost there.”

I can barely muster a response, my voice coming out as a strained whisper. “I’m trying.” My knees are pulled tightly to my chest, the hardness of the floor pressing against me as I try to cope with the impending dread. In the corner, Bella growls low, her ears pinned back, sensing the danger that hangs heavy in the atmosphere.

My stomach is in knots, tightening with each heavy footfall that scrapes against the concrete outside. A tremor ripples through my hands, and the phone nearly slips from my grip. Every instinct in my body screams to move, to run, but instead, I shrink further into the corner, folding into myself like my bones are trying to disappear. The apartment is too silent between the sounds. The scrape of his footsteps, the hum of the refrigerator, the frantic beat of my heart. I can hear the creak of the hallway railing when he shifts his weight.

I used to love silence. Silence meant peace. Now silence is the inhale before violence.

Bella nudges my arm with her nose, a low whine trapped in her throat. I curl my fingers into her fur, trying to borrow courage from her warmth. I mouth the word ‘stay’. If she attacks Damian, he will hurt her.

Xander’s voice filters through like a life raft. “Just keep breathing. I’m coming.” My lungs don’t listen. The air simply… stops. I freeze, my heart racing in my chest as the sound grows impossibly close.

“Xander, he’s at the door,” I manage to say, my voice cracking under the weight of my fear.

My vision goes grainy, like the color is draining from the world. The edges of the room darken until only the door remains in focus, swallowing everything else. I swear the silence has teeth, sharp, sinking into my skin, scraping at the inside of my skull. I blink, but the room doesn’t steady. It feels like I’m floating outside of myself, like I’m watching a stranger fall apart.

I squeeze Bella’s collar until my knuckles ache, grounding myself in the tangible heat of her. My therapist calls this dissociation a survival tactic, something my brain does to protect me. But it doesn’t feel like protection. It feels like drowning behind glass.

My phone slips in my sweaty grip. Xander’s voice layers over everything, a distant echo. If I could just hold onto his voice, I could stay here, stay present.

But the footsteps get louder. Closer.

My chest compresses painfully.

I think of all the nights I convinced myself I was finally safe. I think of the promises I whispered into pillows and the future I started to believe existed.

And as the first tear falls, I realize something brutal.

Safety is only ever borrowed.

-Damian-

Pathetic little locks. As if flimsy pieces of wood and metal could truly keep me out.

I give the knob a forceful rattle, the hollow sound echoing ominously down the hall. The thought of her trembling on the other side fills me with a dark exhilaration; she belongs to me. That boy she clings to? Just a temporary placeholder in her life. I lean close and press my forehead against the door, reveling in the moment.

“Thalia,” I murmur, my voice low and teasing. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”