Devious Obsession

by S. Massery

But then my attention is swinging back to the girl. She’s staring at me with these huge fucking eyes, like she’s never seen someone like me before. And I haven’t even done anything. But suddenly, I want to blow her fucking mind. I want to show her every shadow in my soul, just to get that shocked reaction from her again.

You’ll know I’m coming. When I catch you, you fight me. Do your worst. And I suppose you should pick a safe word…” I pause and wait for her to fill in the blank. “Fire,” she says.

“And Aspen Monroe.” Aspen. Monroe. A name I would never fucking forget. And a face I could never forget.

He takes my hand again. This time, he doesn’t shake it. He just holds onto it and squeezes gently. And it’s nothing like how Steele O’Brien would touch me. The exact opposite, if we’re being honest. Why does that disappoint me?

He shakes his head. “Not now. If I catch someone looking at you like they want to fuck you⁠—” “No one is going to look at me like that,” I snap. “Because I’m invisible. Because I’m not as pretty⁠—” “You’re fucking gorgeous,” Steele answers.

“Because you’re beautiful. Because you’re sin. Because you’re a distraction. And I’ve never hated anyone more than you,”

I snort, plucking at the Knights’ jersey that Josh Maverick gave me last night. It’s the one they wear when they play at home, so it’s mostly red with white lettering. He’s number seven. His name is on the back of it, making no mistake exactly where I got it.

Violet grabs my hand and squeezes. “Yeah, it’s a little rough in the beginning.” “Doesn’t help that my mom married his dad,” I say on a sigh. They both freeze. Oh, shit. I wasn’t supposed to say that.

“Let’s just talk about how Steele O’Brien is her new stepbrother,” Violet murmurs. “Is that a forbidden fruit sort of situation?” I frown. That hadn’t occurred to me.

And that guy who touched Aspen. How fucking dare he? If she was wearing my jersey, no one would touch her.

Everyone is screaming, cheering. My gaze goes right to the siren in this fucker’s jersey. She’s on her feet, too, and her green eyes burn into me from a distance. I can’t tell if she’s happy or upset that I put him in his place—but it doesn’t fucking matter.

I go to my closet and unzip my duffle bag. I was going to wash this, but fuck it. If she wants to wear a jersey so bad…

“You look good in my jersey,” I say in her ear. “But you look even better out of it.” “Maybe I should change, then,” she offers lightly. Fake lightly. She’s just as affected by my presence as I am by hers.

“Steele’s a one-and-done kind of guy,” Amanda says, her voice decidedly cold. “Let him finish, and then he’ll be finished with her, too.” I focus back on Steele’s face. His jaw tics. “Don’t mind us,” he says over his shoulder, his voice sounding… normal. “I just can’t resist when a girl wears my jersey.”

“Wait, you’re actually wearing his jersey?” Amanda scoffs. “I thought he was kidding…” I face her. I don’t know why her jealousy is getting on my nerves—except maybe I’m having fucking flashbacks to her throwing herself at him at the party. He picked me, though. Instinct says he’d pick me again, because at least I’m interesting. “His jersey, his cum…” I shrug. “Bet you got neither when he fucked you, right?”

His frown gets deeper, and he crawls up my body. I exhale when he drops down on top of me. “Let me get this straight. Some guy tried to go down on you, did a shitty job that made you not like it, and then asked for a blow job?” I nod carefully.

All at once, I register that I’m lonely. Like a fucking loser.

I squeeze my eyes shut, blocking out the burning sensation and the lump in my throat. Instead of twenty-year-old Aspen, I’m a kid again. Trapped exactly like this, with only my heartbeat keeping me company. Waiting for the door to open and my nightmares to begin. Or continue. Because they never really stopped, not back then.

Fire. Because we’re taught as little girls that if you’re attacked, no one will come running if you scream for help. But they will if you yell fire. People are selfish like that. They’re drawn into action by things that may hurt them. But if it’s you on the line? Forget it.

He leans over me, and I flinch when he touches me. That’s what he wanted, right? To break me? I think he succeeded.

I touch her cheek and rub my finger along her jaw, coaxing her mouth open. I pull it out, and she wets her lips. “Fire,” she whispers. I go cold. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

Her eyes are fucking vacant, and a chill settles into my bones. “Come back,” I say in her ear, like that’s going to make any difference. It doesn’t.

Then I settle in behind her and doze off, waiting for her to come back to me. Because she has to.

“You need me to what, sweetheart?” Her fingers touch my balls. Cups them with her free hand while stroking me, and I don’t know why the light suddenly in her eyes has me all twisted up. “I need you to go fuck yourself, Steele.” She steps back and grabs my forgotten sweatpants, dragging them up over her legs. She leaves me standing naked in the middle of my room and disappears out the door.

“I won’t ever gag you again,” he swears. He leaves the water running and steps toward me. “Was that it? Was that the line?” I force myself to keep eye contact. “The spreader bar. The gag. The dark. The… combination of the three.” “They’re gone for good.” His chin lowers, his gaze burning into me. “One day, you’ll tell me the whole story.” I shake my head, my lips curling into a sneer. “No, Steele, I won’t.”

lift my shoulder. “Girls will want to ravage you if they see your dick swinging in your gray sweatpants. It’s that season.” “What season?” I roll my eyes. “Gray sweatpants season. Did you buy them with that in mind?” He faces me and cups his dick through the fabric. “So this turns you on?” “No.” I wrinkle my nose. “Never mind.” He smirks. “Uh-huh.” Great. Just what he needs—more ego.

I don’t know what he’s going to do, but I think I trust it. Maybe. Trust is one of those fragile things that may or may not break. And he’s got it for now—somehow. Impossibly.

Now I just have to hope he doesn’t smash it—and me—to dust. Because that, I won’t come back from.

She sucks at my skin, marking me, and I let her. My cock twitches, and I can’t fucking wait any longer. I slide into her, cursing at the way her cunt grips me. She’s wet, she’s tight. She’s perfect—and she doesn’t even know it.

“You are going to talk about this, Aspen. Because knowing what happened to you lets me inside you just a little bit more—and I won’t stop until I’m buried so deep in your bones that I’m impossible to remove.”

That’s the strangest part. I let him heal me. I give him all the bad parts—well, not all. There are so many more pieces of me coated in blood and ash that he has yet to see—and he takes them like they’re precious. Gifts, even.

“So help me god, Aspen, if you finish that sentence…” I shake my head. “You’re mine. Okay? Here, there, on fucking Mars. There’s nothing you can say or do that’s going to derail me from you.”

“You can’t torture me into agreeing to be yours,” I argue. “And every time you hurt me, it makes me hate you more.”

“Give them back.” I hold out my hand. “What will you give me in return?” His eyes dance. No. “Nothing, Steele. I’ll give you all the cold shoulders you could ever imagine—and none of my fight.” His smile fades. “What’s really wrong?” “You’re what’s wrong,” I snap, reaching again for the pages. He lets me have them this time. They slip harmlessly through his fingers.

“You know what went through my mind when I did it?” He traces just below his work, eliciting goosebumps to rise on my body. “No.” “I thought, ‘Now her daddy won’t be able to take pictures of her. Now she’s safe, because she doesn’t belong to him anymore. She belongs to me.’”

“You belong to me, Aspen. You did the moment you drew the joker at the party, although neither of us fucking knew the gravity of it.”

I close my eyes, and a foreign feeling washes over me. For the first time in a long time, I feel safe. And that scares me more than anything.

“Because obsession and love are the same fucking thing. And I’ve been obsessed with you from the start.”

I’ve always known there was something wrong with me. Something fucked up in my brain that just wouldn’t let me have a normal relationship. Having sex with girls, sure. Most of the puck bunnies who followed the team even let me do some out-of-the-box stuff. Or, in the box, maybe. Tie them up, spank them. Aspen understands.

Thalia points to the empty space on her bed. “Want to join me?” I shake my head. “Going to do lunch with Steele. Like an actual date.” Her jaw drops. “He’s capable of chivalry?”

“I want you to do whatever the fuck you want,” he snaps at me. “If that’s play piano, then great. If that’s graduating with a degree in art or chemical engineering or fucking astrology, whatever. But just know that you’re going to be taken care of no matter what. I’m going to the NHL. I’m going to make a shit ton of money—I already have a shit ton of money, Aspen. Thirty thousand dollars to keep you in school and with a meal plan is a drop in the bucket. I’d give you more if it helps. I’d give you all of it if I thought for a second that you cared about that.” My mouth opens and closes. “I know you don’t, though.” He grasps my upper arms, keeping me steady. “I know you don’t care about money. You care about safety. You care about surviving. But, sweetheart…” His voice cracks. “There’s so much more than that for you.”

The way I want that so bad it hurts is a reminder to myself—and a warning. Good things don’t come to people like me.

I’ve never killed anyone before, but I know in my bones that I would for her. Without hesitation.