Page 118 of Shadowed Obsession

I have a gun and I will be fine.

Then I send another to César this time, in case I don’t make it. I open our thread to find countless messages he sent earlier to warn me about this person.

My attacker is outside the bedroom door throwing himself into it to bust it down, and I need to be ready for him when that happens.

If I die tonight, I want you to know that you’re an idiot and I love you.

In case something happens to me, delete that fucking video I made so Regina doesn’t kill you.

I love you, César/Scar.

I hate that you lied.

I switch off the safety and wait for him. My back is pressed against the cold bathtub, and the wood is weakening from his body repeatedly slamming into the door. I train my breathing and will myself to focus. Cici’s voice in my head rings once again. “Klarke’s don’t hide from danger, they incite it.”

I stand and remember César’s shooting pointers, aiming directly in front of me just as he gets the door open. The wood slams to the ground, and he charges through my room. My sweaty finger trembles on the trigger, but I hold it there.

“Come out, princess. Come on, now. I’ve had enough of your games. Come on out,” he urges on the other side of the door.

Blood is rushing through my ears as he jiggles the doorknob. This door is far weaker than the bedroom door, and it won’t take long for him to knock it down.

I slow my breathing and listen for him as he stands at the door jiggling the knob. I may have a direct shot.

Take the shot. Now.

I fire, the shot echoing in the confined bathroom. I hear the sloshing of the bullet piercing his chest, pained screams follow, but I can’t stop. Moving closer, I fire again through the hole that now provides a view of him on the other side. Still standing, so I go again until I hear the thud of his body dropping to the floor. He’s still alive and moaning in pain, but I twist that knob to find him bloody and aim for the head.

That blow is instant, I see the exact moment he dies and it is nothing like I imagined it would be. I fire again into his skull and again in his chest for good measure. Opting to unload the clip because why not? It may be overkill, but I have anxiety.

I stand over his lifeless body with a lot of emotions, one being fear, because who even this and did Dax fucking send him here?

I don’t feel ashamed; I feel pride for a moment before my stomach churns. Nausea rises in my gut, but I need to handle the problem.

“Eradication is my ministry,”I hear Regina say, and I grab my iPad to call her on speaker.

She picks up on the second ring.

“The fuck is going on? I read my kids a bedtime story, and now I’m seeing this fucking message from you. Babe? Dee?”

I don’t know what to say.

I stammer, “Gi, I—I need a clean-up crew. Now.”

A lighter flicks on the other end of the line, and she takes a drag.

Her and those goddamn cigarettes.

“And why would you need that? Tell me,” she says.

“Someone broke in my fucking house and attacked me,” I exclaim, eyeing the body as if it’s going wake up and charge me.

“Say it, Dee. I need to hear you say it,” she challenges, and I roll my eyes.

“I don’t have time for your games, Gi. I don’t know what you want me to say. I took care of it…Oh,” I sigh. “The debt is paid.”

“You check for a pulse?” she asks flatly and takes another drag.

“No, there’s no need for that, is there?”

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