Page 94 of Shattered Obsession

All I have to do is remind her that she’ll never be safe. Even with him.

Perhaps the mere act of slipping through an unlocked door, pushing a window open a crack, or the rustle of me inhaling behind her in the dark would be enough to send her spiraling into panic again. She’d freeze, caught in the memory of me, always remembering.

I lean back in the driver’s seat, watching her window glow faintly against the darkness of the night. My pulse steadies, not from excitement but from the calm of patience. She thought what happened last time was the worst of it, but she has no idea. This time, I’m not taking a small piece of her. I’m taking it all. And when I’m finished, there won’t be anything left of Thalia to save.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

-Thalia-

The apartment envelops me in an oppressive silence tonight, each second stretching longer than the last. I try to convince myself that fear can’t hurt me, but fear is smarter than pain.

Pain announces itself, burning, sharp, obvious.

Fear is quiet.

A whisper.

A shadow shifting just out of sight.

Fear makes you doubt your instincts.

Fear makes you apologize for being scared.

Fear makes you feel like you’re the problem.

I pull my knees closer to my chest, hugging myself, desperate to feel contained inside my own body. Bella rests her head on my thigh, protecting me the way Xander taught her to.

The candle flame flickers, stretching tall, like it’s reaching for something I can’t see. Xander’s absence looms heavily. I know he’s caught up at his parents’ house or still toiling away at the shop, but the thought doesn’t ease my unease. I assured him I’d be fine, a bold-faced lie I desperately wanted to believe. Yet the moment the door clicked shut behind him, the familiar world felt suddenly foreign and unsettling.

In an attempt to mask the encroaching sense of dread, I flicker on a candle, watching the flame dance and sway, illuminating the dim corners of the room. The apartment has never felt this small.

Every shadow is a memory. Every silence a threat.

I force myself toward the window. Just look. Just confirm it’s nothing.

But when I touch the blinds, the motion triggers a flashback so vivid it steals my breath. Damian leaning against a doorframe, smirking and proud of the fear he created.

My hand recoils before I can stop it.

That’s what he stole from me, not just safety, but the simple act of checking a window.

Something everyone else does without thinking.

I close my eyes.

Inhale… four counts.

Exhale… six.

I picture Xander beside me, grounding me the way he always does, hand at my lower back, whispering, “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

I’m alone, but I borrow the memory.

I open the blinds in one quick motion.

Nothing.

No one.