Obsession

by Harleigh Beck

“Don’t let yourself be charmed by him. He’s a serial killer who murdered fourteen women,”

Out there, in the real world, men smell of cheap cologne, desperation, and fabric conditioner. This man, this killer, smells of soap, a hint of sweat, and something uniquely him. Something inherently masculine and untamed.

I hated Mommy, but I still wanted her to love me. Other mommies loved their kids. So why didn’t my mommy love me?

“I think you asked for me because I fit the profile of the girls you killed,”

“Brown eyes, long and wavy dark hair. Early twenties. Women who resemble your mother.”

“He’s just a man,” I whisper. But I know he’s not. Robbie is the closest I’ve been to tasting the sweetness of death. I was so close to freedom I could feel its soothing caress wrap itself around my fragile heart.

Everything about Robbie is a carefully crafted work of art and a cruel deception. He’s the flame I should stay away from, yet my fingers itch to reach out.

I should draw back and create space between us, but his magnetism is impossible to escape. I want his tattooed hands on me. I want to feel the pleasure he can bring with those calloused fingers. I even want the pain he could inflict if he let his monster out to play.

I want to taste death at his fingertips.

It’s as if his mouth speaks one language and his eyes another, and I can barely focus on one while deciphering the other.

If you lived in the shadows long enough, you soon called them your home.

He’s a murderer. He’d kill me if he could. Fuck, why does that thought make my core heat? I need psychological help.

“All I’ve ever done is hurt women. I couldn’t even make my own mother love me.”

“Rule number one: Don’t ever fall for the sob story.”

“It’s funny how karma works, Dad. I hope you rot. When you take your last breath, I will finally smile again.”

“With all due respect, Mrs. Ashton. Robbie Hammond isn’t the biggest wolf I’ve met. My heart broke long ago. Maybe for once, I want to lose myself in a nightmare of my own making, no matter how crazy it seems.”

“Pain makes us feel alive. More so than pleasure at times.”

I never thought a woman would notice so many shades of gray.

Rule number three, Savannah: Never turn your back on a killer.

“My story belongs to you, Savannah. My confession is yours and yours alone.”

“Listen to me carefully, Savannah. You’re going to turn Elliot down, unless you want the sniffing dog to die a slow, painful death.”

“Rule number four: Trust your gut.”

“I’ll give you my story when you trust me with yours.”

Maybe he can’t tie me to his bed and torture me for days with a weapon of his choice, but he has no issue digging out the shadows lurking inside me. I’m a game to him—one he enjoys unraveling, layer by layer.

“It’s okay to have a down day, sweetheart. But you must not allow yourself to wallow in your own sorrows. You let yourself feel whatever troubles you today, and then you pick yourself back up tomorrow and do what must be done.”

Rule number five: Always park near a lamppost.

She was here. More importantly, she thought of me. No one has ever thought of me before.

“No one gets to touch you, Savannah. No one gets to so much as imagine you naked and needy.”

“You can’t slaughter everyone who fantasizes about me.” “Watch me.”

Rule number six: Don’t think you’re safe because you know the person in front of you. Familiarity doesn’t equal security.

Despite the ugliness in the world, there’s such breathtaking beauty in nature. So many exquisitely intricate details we fail to see because we’re so lost in our minds.

He’s so damn tall and broad and fucking beautiful. I barely reach his collarbones.

“Monster or no monster, you still deserve to have someone in your corner. It’s been a damn honor to be that person. I know you don’t see it. You’re too focused on the wrongs you’ve done, but you’ve come a long way since I first met that young man who’d unleashed his inner pain on the world. Something had to give, Hammond. No one can suffer and not crack under pressure. It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“She’s in here, driving me fucking crazy. There’s nothing I won’t do. No lengths I won’t go… I will make her mine.”

He shoves my skirt up to my waist and growls low in his throat. So…I didn’t put on panties this morning. “Fuck me,” he whispers, wrenching my quivering thighs apart and staring at my pussy. “You’re going to be the death of me…” “You’re the killer here, Robbie. So ruin me.”

“Rule number seven…” His gruff voice whispers over my clit. “Don’t ever trust a condemned killer.”

“You have a choice, ma’am. I’ll gladly burn the world down for you. And I will, without a second’s hesitation. Now, the question is, do you want to burn it to the ground?”

I’m not a helpless little girl anymore. She grew up. And she’s ready to unleash hell.

I’m definitely a fool, falling for a man on death row.

Robbie escaped. He’s out there, waiting for me.

But I will kill everyone who’s ever laid a fucking finger on my girl before I let anyone pump my veins full of poison.

I’ve got a girl to find.

Keith, Mark, David, Michael, and Andy

omg! Savannah's abusers = Robbie's bullies

“Rule number eight: Never run from a predator. Don’t throw fleeting glances behind you.”

“The game changed with you, Savannah. You make me want to chase you to the ends of the earth if it lets me taste your fear in the air. It calls to me like a desperate prayer for absolution late at night.”

“No one can keep me from you, Savannah. Not now that I’ve had a taste.”

Rule number nine: Keep your windows and doors locked. Don’t make me punish you.

Robbie is unhinged—a true monster behind his sinful ‘set your panties on fire’ smile.

And while something tells me he would never hurt me, he sets me on edge in both the best and worst ways.

Ruin me, Robbie. Make me yours.