Cruel Obsession (The Obsession Duet 1)

I want to hate him. I want to feel nothing besides anger toward him, but looking at what he’s done for me, has my feelings and thoughts twisted, a knife piercing me in the gut.

No, I can’t let him do this to me. This was probably exactly why he did this. He’s trying to buy my trust, trying to make me thankful. Thankful that I have him, thankful that he got me all these things. A sour taste fills my mouth.

I can’t let him win. I need to keep a clear head. No matter what he does or says, he is the enemy, and I can’t forget that because the moment I do, all chances of me getting out of here will be lost. I can’t get wrapped up in this game he’s playing.

Searching through the clothes, I pull out some capri pants, a sports bra, and a loose-fitting T-shirt, which I switch into quickly. Then I find a pair of socks and running shoes, which, no surprise, are my exact size. Putting those on as well, the last thing I do is put my long hair up in a ponytail with a hair tie that I find in the bathroom.

As I walk to the gym, my mind wanders. I’ve come to the conclusion that Zane’s obsession with me knows no bounds. I wonder just exactly how much he knows about me? How long has he been stalking me, watching me? I shiver at the memory of being watched—at the fear. It was him all along, it had to be, but the biggest question is, why?

I walk into the large room, holding a plethora of fitness equipment, too many to count, but my eyes land on one in particular. It’s a metal bar hanging from the ceiling.

Attached to that bar is a shirtless Zane doing pull-ups. I remember having to do them in school, hating that I was so weak I could barely do a single one. Zane makes it look like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Up and down, back up and down, without stopping.

His back is turned toward me, and all I can do is watch his bulging muscles flex as he repeats the motion. I’m so mesmerized, I’m frozen in place, forgetting for a moment why I’m even here.

Suddenly Zane stops. He is just hanging from the bar now, his arms extended like he is catching his breath.

“Enjoying the show?” His deep voice fills the room. Even though he is facing the other way and can’t see my face redden, I look away embarrassed. Only then, as I avert my vision to the wall, do I realize that the entire left side of the gym is a giant mirror.

Shit. He caught me watching him. Again.

A little bit flustered and more than ashamed of myself, I walk over to the treadmill and start walking. Seeing that one wall is a mirror, ruins my plan to sneakily attack him with a weight. Even if he turns away from me, he would be able to see me coming.

It’s like he thought of everything.

After spending some time in the gym, Zane makes us dinner, and I do my best to ignore the way his muscles clench and work as he moves about the kitchen. I have to be sick, or this is really nothing more than a fucked-up dream. That has to be it.

I don’t understand why I am drawn to him, why my treacherous body is attracted to him. It’s probably because I’ve never been with a man. No one wanted me until now. Of course, leave it to me to attract the psycho kind.

“You’ve been very quiet today.” He states as we sit down to eat.

“I’m trying to figure out why you want me. What’s so special about me?”

Zane smiles, showing off his stupidly straight, white teeth. “You’re special because you’re mine, and that’s all you need to know. I brought you here to protect you, and that’s what I’m doing.” He shoves a piece of broccoli into his mouth and starts chewing.

Frustration bubbles over inside of me. “You keep saying that, but it makes no sense. The only person I can think that I might need protection from is you.”

Shock overtakes his features, and then his face goes blank. “There are far worse people out there than me. People that will kill and rape you. Sell you. Make you wish you were dead a million times over.”

Wanting… no, needing to hurt him, I lash out. “And you know this how? Because you’re one of them? Because you’ve done all those things and more?”

Zane’s eyes zero in on me, and they are dark, punishing. The hand resting against the table closes into a tight fist. The veins in his arm bulge. Is he going to snap? Part of me hopes so. It’s so hard when he’s kind and caring, I really need him to be angry and cruel. I’d much rather have his fury, than kindness.