Page 135 of Obsession
“Elliot is here,” I point out, glancing over my shoulder, surprised to see him back.
“I invited him. It felt wrong not to, you know?”
I do know. I’m still riddled with guilt over what happened. Especially now that Robbie isn’t around to threaten him anymore. My heart twinges at the thought, and I’m struck by another wave of guilt.
I swallow it back down with another swig of wine, glancing at Elliot.
“Are you into him?”
I whip my head back around. “Excuse me?”
“You keep looking at him.” There’s a sly look on Jeanine’s face, a look which makes my cheeks heat. “He definitely has a thing for you.”
“He doesn’t,” I protest.
“Everyone at the office knows it.” She walks over to the table before I can argue, leaving me no choice but to hurry after her.
I feel flustered, all too aware of my colleagues’ eyes on me, as I take a seat between Jeanine and Elliot. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to come here, maybe I should have stayed home.
No, I had to get out. If I don’t keep busy, all the emotions will catch up with me.
I’m a hot mess beneath the surface. Images of Robbie being handcuffed on the snowy ground assault my mind every time I close my eyes.
As the night goes on, I notice that everyone studiously ignores the subject of Robbie. I’m secretly relieved. James engages Elliot in conversation while Mark, who is seated on Jeanine’s left, leans forward to talk to me about his current project. I pretend to listen, smiling politely, but I’m distracted.
Did Robbie take Beatrix? Yes, he did. Chapman told me about the security footage that saw her enter her car with a man who fit Robbie’s description. Why did he do it?Why?
It doesn’t matter how many times I ask myself the question; I’m no closer to wrapping my head around why he relapsed. And that makes me so damn angry with myself. What did I think would happen when he escaped prison? A sick man like Robbie is driven by a whispering darkness few of us can begin to understand. Maybe that’s what drew me to him to begin with: the mystery, and the belief that I could somehow change him.
Where is Beatrix now? I knew as soon as I heard about her disappearance that the choice had been taken out of my hands. I had to contact Chapman. The fact remains that I should have given Robbie up from the beginning before he had a chance to hurt another woman. My naive heart believed I was enough to quiet the whispers.
It turns out, I wasn’t.
Beatrix’s disappearance is my fault.
“Savannah?”
Torn from my thoughts, I blink.
Mark waves his hand. “Where did you go just now?”
Jeanine gives me a sympathetic smile, one I choose to ignore as I pick up my wine glass, only to realize it’s empty.
“You want another?” Elliot asks, rising to his feet.
He’s gone before I can reply, and his fading citrusy scent lingers in the air, mixed with the smell of the stale bar and sweat.
“I can’t believe our rival paper picked him up,” James mutters into his beer.
“Really?” Emma sounds surprised on his other side. Seated across from me, her bright hazel eyes—framed with expert winged eyeliner—twinkle in the muted lighting. “I saw it coming a mile away.”
James’s response is to inhale his beer, his meaty fingers swamping the pint glass. “I don’t understand why he had to leave so suddenly.”
“I’m sure you can poach him back,” Emma suggests, twirling her cocktail before picking up the umbrella and placing the stick in her mouth.
“You have a lot on your plate now with your workload,” Mark tells me, ignoring the warning look Jeanine throws in his direction.
I’m slow to look at him, distracted by my own tumultuous thoughts. I watch as they have a silent conversation with a myriad of facial expressions before Jeanine offers me a small smile. “Let’s not talk work tonight.”
