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In my profession, your past can be as damning as a wrong diagnosis. Shame is the conception of most sins against ourselves.
But the single most interesting thing about my psychologist is this: I make her curious. Not in a professional sense—though I’m sure that’s how it started; a small flame sparked into existence—but the deep-seated, scary curious. The kind of curious that drives good girls bad. I’d love to tangle her up in my web and feast.
“Do you see yourself as a god? Granting your victims redemption?”
“No, I see myself as a hunter. They’re not victims; they’re predators stalking the woods in search of prey. If they fall into the hunter’s trap, then they were in a place they never should have been.”
Ours is not a love story—we’re too volatile, too explosive for monotony. No, our story comes with a warning. Beware.
“None of us are powerless. Choice is the most powerful thing in this world. Everyone has a choice.”
And if I’m being honest, I’ve never been more fascinated by a patient. Fascinated. I could laugh. My attraction goes deeper than fascination…to some part of myself that yearns for his cruelty.
“The ocean is quiet,” he says instead. “When you’re down there, not even your thoughts are loud. It all just fades into the background of this tranquil, marine scenery.”
her demons are alive and kicking in our sessions. It’s almost cruel to continue provoking her, but she needs to be broken from her trained thought pattern in order to accept the truth. If I’m obsessed, then she’s infatuated—an explosive combination.
With her, I don’t crave the abuse.
I’ve enforced it for so long, it’s damn near impossible to stop—but she’s my answer. She’s my salvation.
There are certain doors our minds close to protect us. Whether it’s blacked out memories or denial—” her gaze doesn’t waver “—we’ve chained those doors closed for a reason. Once you break the locks, there’s no going back. You may have to accept a new reality for yourself, and that can be dangerous.”
“You can trust that I’ll do anything you ask of me.”
Gravity only needs one slight push to send me spiraling down.
She’s been living two lives for far too long. My objective is to tease them apart. Like the puzzle I stare at now, the woman I need hides in the details. She’s buried beneath the lies.
When I look into his eyes, I see myself. Not a reflection of the woman—but the hollow echo of my blood-stained soul. If he’s evil, then am I in danger of falling for the devil, or am I the devil herself?
“I’m inside you now…” His teeth graze my shoulder. “Under your skin. I want to break you, so I can piece you back together.”
I was damned long before Grayson found me, and it was that dark note of my soul that called to him.
If you don’t nurture a thing, it dies. I was born with the ability, like every other human is born with the ability to feel, empathize, love—only I was never required to exercise these emotions. They’re weak and neglected.
I’ve never felt any connection to a single person… Until her. I covet this rarity. Anxious to nurture this dark little seed she planted in my soul. My own design of love may be a twisted creature, but that creature is hungry and demands to be fed.
He found me. He discovered my vile secret, and it excites him, what it could mean if I’d only release the string tethering me to a life so binding. But that’s the trade. I risk losing what makes me human. Pain is human, and it means I still feel.
“You can’t fear losing what you never knew existed. You changed everything, London.
“This is so much more than madness. This is what obsession does to a person.” I swallow
The completeness that we mean together is a satisfaction to the compulsions that has consumed me for months. Demanding to be obtained. She is my salvation. And I am her long-awaited consequence.
I’m tethered so tightly to him, I can feel him in my veins. He’s poison in my blood. I’m drunk on him.
“You will try to run, regardless of your choice. Everyone runs from their truth. I can’t let that happen.”
we—you and I, London—we were always a contingency. What we’re working through now is the variables to determine our exact outcome.”
Want is a dangerous emotion. When it’s strong enough, all other emotions fade into the background. I want Grayson, and my loathing isn’t present enough to stop me.
“I love everything about you—even your sickness. It turns me on and drives me mad. The bad things you’ve done. I should despise what you are, but you caught me in your web, and I’m begging you to bleed me dry, that’s how twisted you got me.”
How much can the mind endure? Even when you know the disaster is coming, you can’t look away. We’re a little sick like that. This trap will test us all.
“Do we love each other, or are we merely crazy for each other? I know I’m crazy—maddeningly crazy for you. Obsession is a far more evocative emotion than love.”
“We weren’t born the day we took our first breath. We were born the moment we stole it.”
In my profession, your past can be as damning as a wrong diagnosis. Shame is the conception of most sins against ourselves.
I wasn’t born this way. I was stolen, groomed, and born to another realm the average person only glimpses in nightmares. I never feared the monster, because the monster was already inside me.
I was a performer once. I can be again. At least now, I know the difference.
Where you’re not fed the answer. You have to search for it.
Lessons that I must put into action, or else the rest of the answers will never be unlocked. Now I know where I belong.
Now that she’s free, I can be patient. I’m willing to be any and all that she needs. I’ve left her clues, pieces of my puzzle. My story will unravel the truth for her. She’ll find me. No, ours is not a love story. Ours comes with a warning. And it’s not over yet. Of course, no one heeds warnings. If ours began with a beware, my story begins with a threat. Do not enter. I was spawned in hell itself.
