Page 19 of His Darkest Obsession
Then, he lets me go, and I pull my hand back as if I just touched a stove.
My face burns hotter. I'm not sure what's more mortifying. Getting caught trying to steal my phone back, or the fact that part of me almost didn't want him to let go.
My fingers curl into fists. "Where are you taking me?"
"I'll explain everything once we get somewhere safe."
Then he turns away from me.
"Safe?"I can't help myself as I yell at him. "Are you fucking kidding me? I was perfectly safe untilyoushowed up. In case you haven't been counting, every time you appear in my life, someone has tried to kill me. First at the barbershop, and now at my apartment."
The driver's eyes catch mine in the rearview mirror, and his lips curl into a knowing smirk. He says something to Anatoly in that language of theirs. Anatoly's jaw clenches and he barks something back.But all it does is make the smirk on the driver's face grow wider.
Oh sure, have your little private conversation right in front of me.
I turn my head away from them both, and rest my cheek against the cool glass of the bulletproof glass that saved my life as I watch buildings slowly become replaced with trees.
After several hours,the car finally slows to a crawl as we pass through wrought iron gates that look like they belong in front of a fortress, not a house.
The limestone walls stretch up toward the sky, and I catch glimpses of what looks like a pool in the distance.
My stomach drops.This can't be real. This has to be a nightmare. It has to be.
The car finally stops, and Anatoly leans forward and murmurs something to the driver. The words roll off his tongue, dark andsmooth like honey. The driver nods, says something back, and then Anatoly steps out.
A few moments later, the door beside me opens and he extends the hand I bit towards me.
Salty air fills my lungs. The cry of seagulls pierces through the air, and I can hear waves crashing against rocks somewhere far below.
Where the hell did he take me?
"Come." His voice brooks no argument.
What choice do I have? He's killed people in front of me. He's taken me away from my home. He has my only means of communicating with the outside world in his pocket. And this ishiscar. I can't even stay in here if I want to.
I stare at his hand, at the imprint of my teeth on the palm, and I feel a little self-satisfaction that at least I managed to hurt him.
Even if it’s just a little.
And that’s enough for now.
I slip my hand into his and that same electric current from before courses through me again. His fingers—warm and strong—close around mine and he helps me from the car with surprising gentleness.
"Watch your step."
My feet wobbles as I stumble out. His other hand moves to steady my elbow, and I hate how my body responds so quickly to his touch.
Then the car drives away, and I become aware just how alone I am.
The sound of the waves grows louder, and a spray of ocean mist carries over the distant cliff edge. Everything about this place screams wealth, power, and isolation.
I try to jerk my hand away, but he doesn't let go.
Even if I did manage to free myself from his grip, where can I go? We're somewhere way out east on Long Island, and I have no phone, no money, and no way to contact Amara.
I look up at the façade of the mansion as we walk inside.
It reminds me of a beautiful prison.
