Unapologetic Obsession (Tales of Obsession #3)

by Drethi A.

Why did you break that deliveryman’s hand when I was the one who snuck in? I was in the wrong. Why not dispose of me instead of hurting one of your own guys?” “Because.” With his eyes fixed on my mouth, his thumb glided across my bottom lip to wipe away excess juices from the gelatin. His deadpan face was softer than usual, a rare glimpse into an unguarded moment, as he said, “You’re the furthest thing from disposable.”

“This paper will determine fifty percent of your grade. The rest will be based on pop quizzes, attendance, and lab participation. If you have any questions⁠—” Several hands shot up in the air because it was the first time he had welcomed an interaction. His icy blue eyes were unmoved as he said, “If you have any questions, don’t bother me. Figure it out. You’re adults.”

“Cut the crap. I know for a fact that Professor Maxwell didn’t try your cake. I know everything about him, and he’s allergic to strawberries.” What!? I didn’t concoct what happened last night in my mind, I was sure of it. I saw it. I saw him eat the cake with my own eyes. Would Professor Maxwell eat something that could kill him just to indulge me? Was that the reason he looked like hell this morning? Impossible. Shelby returned to her station after finishing her spiel. As soon as she stopped glaring at me, I dashed to the biohazard trash. If a person ate something poisonous to them but was alive to tell the tale, there must be evidence of the anecdote, and I doubt anyone had the chance to discard the waste, given the time of night I left. I peeked inside the biohazard dispenser. There was only one item inside. Sure enough, it was an EpiPen, and even from here, I could make out the inscription. Prescribed to Caden Maxwell.

“You’ll attend? It’ll be on the second Saturday of next month.” I racked my brain for upcoming commitments and realized I was busy. “I’m spending that weekend with my mom. We’re cruising the Hudson on a yacht.” “You like yachts?” “I love them.” My family went on countless cruises and yacht trips when I was young. Suffice to say, my best memories revolved around water and boat life. The few times Mom came around, she took me on a yacht trip, a tradition I thoroughly enjoyed. He tapped his phone open. “I made a mistake. I’m hosting the student-faculty affair on the third Saturday of next month.” But Professor Maxwell didn’t make mistakes, that was his whole premise. “It’ll be a good opportunity to network,” he added. It would have been if I had the guts to speak to strangers at the drop of a hat. “Did I mention it’ll be on a yacht?” he said with a bite to his tone. My lips parted for an, Oh.

All in all, Rose Ambani wasn’t a risk taker. “Do you know what these types of girls like, the ones who aren’t looking for trouble?” His index finger waved over my face. “They like it when you smile.” Seriously? “No, no. Not that face you’re making—the whole grr, I’m going to kill you look. And your hair.” He rumpled my hair, and I jerked out of his hold. “Relax. I’m trying to make you approachable. You look like a Disney villain between the hair and the face. Try smiling. Never mind, that’s worse. Just…stop frowning. And why does everything about you have to look so stern?”

Although I had done everything in my power to downplay my scary demeanor around Rose, it wasn’t enough. Her history was too ingrained in her personality, and she was scared of someone like me. At least there was a silver lining. I had memorized every expression on Rose’s face, and though she exercised immense caution around men, she didn’t view me as a threat. I took full advantage and engaged her in small talk at every opportunity.

I had made a habit of monopolizing Rose’s time. Now that other people were demanding her attention, it left my insides with the volcanic rage Damon had warned me against.

Which was why I couldn’t stand it when people criticized him. The worst thing he had ever done was force-feed me healthy meals and make me switch to raw honey and coconut sugar whenever I baked. But if truth be told, limiting my sugar intake had reduced the inflammation of my scars, and I had never felt better.

Someone left those abhorrent marks on me, yet I was responsible for how the scars affected the people around me and their reputations.

Natasha needed medical attention. The scratches on her face and neck were getting worse, and one eye looked swollen shut. He was a doctor. Why wasn’t he patching her up? He gently opened my palms to examine the reddening skin. “Fuck,” he spat. He turned to Natasha, mouth turned down. The veins in his face pulsated like a roadmap of fury. “Look at what your face did to her hands!” he snarled so loudly that I jumped. Three jaws dropped simultaneously—mine, Linda’s, and Natasha’s. Natasha sputtered, “B-but she hit me!” I was thinking the same thing. I was at fault. Sure, Natasha said horrible things, but my actions were unjustifiable. Caden was furious at Natasha’s face for hurting my hands, but he was no less angry with me. “Your hands are swollen, Rose. Do you want to spend the rest of this cruise in the medical suite? If you wanted to slap her, why didn’t you have Linda do it?”

chest. I spent the rest of the night watching her. I grazed my thumb over the apple of her cheek, trailing my finger down to her jaw. I studied her face, tracing every detail. Pink lips parted just enough to reveal a hint of moisture on the fuller bottom lip. Dark lashes cast delicate shadows across her flushed cheeks. Her wild hair splayed across my pillow like a chaotic halo. Even with her messy, tangled hair and smudged makeup, she was a wet dream. Incomparable. Invaluable. Mine.

After months of torture, I had finally entered heaven. I had tasted what life could be with her, and I would burn anyone to the ground who tried to take that away from me.

“I have a problem.” A familiar fourth voice cut into our conversation, and I silently thanked the gods for it. Sophie squeezed herself into the empty chair beside Poppy and slammed her purse down dramatically. Subtlety had never been her strong suit, and numerous eyes watched the loud blonde girl with cocktail rings. Amelie rolled her eyes at Sophie’s theatrics. There was no love lost between the two. She thought Sophie was brash, spoiled, and selfish. In turn, Sophie didn’t take kindly to Amelie’s hot-tempered nature. “What’s the big tragedy?” I asked. “I’m organizing a threesome, and my third just backed out.” I nearly spat out my lavender latte, and Amelie’s face turned crimson. Meanwhile, Poppy seemed amused. Amelie did a slow clap. “Searching for a sex partner before eight. You’ve outdone yourself.” “I’m resourceful like that.”

“I won’t pretend to understand his reasons for everything. I’ll only say that he’ll do anything for you. You should have seen him after you fled the hospital. He combed the city for days without sleep and tried every avenue to track you down. I mean, just look at his boat. It’s painted in your favorite colors. I’ve seen him mimic your old OCD habits when he does your bandages, so you don’t rip them off for ‘disorderly placement.’ He even wears the colors you like, so you’ll find him soothing. That man’s got Rose written all over him. You, my friend, have managed the impossible. You’ve turned the coldest, most untouchable and unattainable man into a lovesick puppy.”

“Why did you spring an engagement on me in front of all those people?” I had an inkling about the answer, but I decided to ask anyway. “Why didn’t you just ask me to marry you?” “It would’ve given you the opportunity to say no.” Direct and blunt as always.

“I told you, my mother was right. She saw me for what I truly was. You baited a monster, and now you have to bear the consequences.” He massaged my elbow, willing the sensation back from his menacing grip. Despite the tender touch, his voice was cold. “Because I can’t go another day without you.”

Frustrated, I closed my eyes. “What do you want from me?” “Everything.” His voice cut like steel. “How much clearer can I be about my intentions? I want you.”

“He was my first love, and I never quite got over it. It was a long time ago.” His grip tightened until I felt my teeth against the inside of my cheeks. He leaned closer, blue, bottomless eyes pulling me in. “Name.” I tried to shake my head, which was impossible with his grip on my cheeks. “It doesn’t matter. We don’t even have communication. All that matters is that I can’t get over him,” I told him, realizing the truth was inevitable. “Maybe things would’ve been different had I met you first.” The air between us turned sharp, metallic, like the moment before lightning strikes. He didn’t move, didn’t blink. The lines around his mouth deepened like I had betrayed him in the worst way possible. I forced myself to look away from it. I swallowed. “I’m sorry. Please just try to understand. I can’t help what’s in my heart.” “Then I’ll rip your fucking heart out and feed it to dogs.”

When his hand left my waist to clutch at my shirt, I knew there was only one thing that might snap him out of it. “Caden, please stop. You promised to wait.” The sound of his name on my lips made him freeze. There was a tinge of sadness in his eyes—remorse, if I wasn’t mistaken—because he didn’t plan on stopping. It was an apology he would never utter. Instead, he said, “I promised to wait if you gave this a chance. You didn't hold up your end of the deal, either.” His mouth ghosted across my skin, forehead, and cheeks. “The only thing that matters now is that I love you, and the only way I’ll stop loving you is if someone puts a fucking bullet through my head. I won’t apologize for doing whatever it takes to be with you. If this is the only way I can have you, then so be it, because I refuse to live without you.”

Her eyes were glossy when she spoke again. “You do know that I am not her anymore. I’m a totally different person than the old Rose.” “Doesn’t matter.” “Of course it does. She had an entirely different personality. You fell in love with the old Rose, not me.” “You could be half monkey, and I’d still love you.” She smiled. Perhaps she remembered the first day of classes when I compared my students to monkeys. Actually, I believe I had said the monkeys were superior. She shook her head in disbelief. “What is it that you like about me?” “I like the way you breathe.” She huffed. “So, you don’t care about my personality. All I need to do to make you like me is breathe?” “All you need to do to make me love you,” I corrected, “is breathe.” She was stumped. “Why?” “Because you exist as long as you’re still breathing. And I wouldn’t exist if you didn’t.”