Cruel Obsession (The Obsession Duet 1)

Trying to keep myself occupied and my mind anywhere but on Dove, I unpack the bags I brought and get everything else situated. Once done, I take a seat on the edge of the bed and stare at her. Now I just have to wait for my sleeping beauty to wake up.

9

The first thing I notice when I wake is the pain radiating through my head. It feels like someone is trying to pry my skull open. The second thing is the silky sheets my cheek is pressed against, and that alone gives me enough steam to force my heavy lids open.

For one single moment, all I am is confused, then like a freight train, the events come rushing back to me. All the confusion is shoved aside as fear and panic overtake me.

Eyes as black as night. The prick of a needle in my neck. Promises of love.

My stomach churns, and a wave of dizziness slams into me as I scan the room, my gaze darting around, looking for an exit, for him. When I don’t see anyone, I look down at my body and find that I’m still completely clothed.

Thank god for that.

There’s no soreness between my legs as I move to the edge of the bed, so I feel confident enough that he didn’t rape me. Lifting my hands to my face, I feel around for any bumps or bleeding. I don’t find any wounds, and I don’t feel any pain besides the soreness in my neck and the splitting headache I have, so I’m thankful for that.

Overall, I seem to be fine at the moment, but that’s not a complete relief because I have no clue where the hell I am or how I’ll get out of here. On top of that, I don’t even know where my captor is. Or if there is more than one of them.

Another wave of fear slams into me, threatening to immobilize me. There has to be more than one of them. It’s just not possible that this was done alone. Who can just kidnap someone from their home and take them god knows where without anyone noticing them?

God, this is so bad, and something tells me it’s not going to get any better.

Frantically, I get up and start pacing around the room. It’s pretty luxurious, with a large king-sized bed and expensive-looking furniture. Two bedside lamps give the room all its light. It still must be night. Heavy curtains are draped over the windows. Windows…

Rushing across the room, I grab two fistfuls of the curtains and pull them open. I suck in a sharp breath when I see what’s behind them. Bricks. They’re just bricks. It’s a sham, a damn facade. I check the other window and find the same kind of brick wall behind it. Then the third, as if that one would be any different. Still, there is a small sliver of hope that lives inside me, which is crushed as soon as I pull the last set of curtains away.

Bile rises in my throat, and I press a hand to my stomach. I think I’m going to be sick. I’m trapped… in some kind of basement. Digging my nails into the palm of my hand, I swallow down the vomit and focus my attention.

I need to find a way out.

There are two doors, both are closed, so I have no idea where they lead or what lurks behind them. Taking a deep breath, I walk over to the first one. Fear trickles slowly into my veins. Hesitantly, I reach for the doorknob, my fingers curl around the cold metal, and I turn it. Thinking the door is probably locked, I don’t expect it to open, so when it does, a surprised gasp falls from my lips. I stand there shocked for all of two seconds before I walk out into the huge open space.

I’m trapped in a god damn, underground apartment, a giant one at that. My apartment would probably fit three times in this room alone. I try and act like I don’t care, but this place is something else.

I stare out into the living room, where a large sectional couch, an entertainment center with a TV the size of a small theater screen is.

A dining area sits in the center of the space, with a table that seats six. A large colorful flower centerpiece ties the room together, giving it a homey feel.

The entire place leaves me feeling completely confused. It’s almost like someone lives here… It’s far too nice of a place for a prisoner to live in, which makes me wonder if I’m really a prisoner here or something else entirely.

The kitchen is on the other side of the room, with modern-looking cabinets and stainless-steel appliances. Then it dawns on me. There’s a fully functioning kitchen, and a kitchen means knives, which I can use as a weapon. Carelessly, I rush from the bedroom and into the kitchen. My hands are shaking as I search the counters for a knife block.