Unhinged (Deranged and Obsessed #1)

Chapter 8

8

ROMAN

I watched her run.

I let her go.

Tonight. It had to be tonight that I figured out what there was about her that made me obsessed.

I’d fuck her… or kill her. Or maybe I’d do both.

I gave her time to get home, to feel comfortable and safe, and only then did I follow. I was in her house as easily as every other time. But when I closed the door, I heard the slight clinking and noticed a brand-new chain lock. But it hadn’t been latched in place, and I wondered if she’d been too terrified that she’d forgotten.

I reached in my pocket, pulled out the syringe that had the sedative I’d inject her with, and made my way silently through her living room. The syringe was cool in my hand as I gripped it, ready to subdue her, to make sure she didn’t wake too soon. I had a lot of plans for her tonight, and in the end, I didn’t know if I’d kill her.

I reached the door to her room, nudging it open slowly, quietly, savoring the moment.

But when I noticed her bed was empty, I stilled.

The surrounding darkness pressed in as something I rarely ever felt filled me. Confusion.

I listened, but all I heard was the silence. All I felt was the heaviness that I wasn’t alone, but she was nowhere to be seen.

I knew she was here. I felt her. I walked farther into her room, scanning the interior, and then my gaze landed on her closed closet door. Was my sweet, innocent girl hiding from me? Did she want to play hide and seek with the big, bad wolf?

Just when I took a step in that direction, pain exploded in the back of my head. The sharp blow had light flashing in my line of vision immediately. I cursed and stumbled forward, reaching for the wall to steady myself, but my hand slid off the drywall, and I crashed to the floor. The syringe slipped from my hand and rolled to a set of sock-covered, tiny feet to my right.

When I blinked my eyes to clear my vision, the pain was echoing in my skull, and focusing was becoming impossibly difficult. I was groggy and disoriented. I followed those tiny feet up slender legs until I was staring at Isla, who hovered above me.

Through my haze of pain, I could see her expression was unreadable, her eyes dark and sharp in the shadowy interior. She crouched and set something big and heavy down beside me.

I heard a hard and metal-like clank beside me and stared at the cast iron frying pan that she used to almost knock me the fuck out. She moved again, and I followed her with my eyes as she unfurled her body and stood above me again.

It was when she held her hand up that I felt my lips twitch and a hardcore shot of lust course through my veins. Hell, even in pain, my cock was getting fucking thick and hard as I saw she was holding my gift.

The bouquet of bloody fingers, that were discolored and decomposing.

“I’d ask how you got me this, but you already answered that,” she said, her voice cold, her eyes staring into mine, but then she slowly smiled.

Everything swirled in my mind—confusion, shock, disbelief. Isla was supposed to be my next vulnerable, unaware victim. But she was standing over me, the bouquet still wrapped in brown paper and blood-stained, satin ribbon held in her palm.

I stared up at her, my reality spinning. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t the one in control.

That and…I was pretty sure I was in love.