Ruthless Obsession

Chapter sixteen

Hey guys, huge disclaimer here--I don't condone the use of the drugs mentioned in this chapter!!

---All my love, Lexi

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To say Angelo completely acted as if nothing happened the night before--in the hotel room--is an understatement.

It's not like I expect him to acknowledge it, It's just extremely frustrating.

He resumed his usual somber, cold exterior, once again putting up impenetrable walls that only came down the first time by his own command. I will not be surprised by this again. The first time he played me for a fool when we kissed on the rooftop. I was utterly surprised and convicted of how someone could be so gentle and passionate one minute, and then throw you in the basement for betrayal the next. How could a sensible person believe someone with a track record of such wrongdoings, would ever be able to feel as deeply as I do, or at the least, be open to being friends, I would even settle for not being enemies. He's undoubtedly stuck in his ways.

He's simply not capable of being a husband. His only slightly redeemable trait is his protectiveness of things that are his, and yes I guess that means I'm 'his', but I'd rather be his then dead.

It was so weird, seeing this man that I'd only known to be emotionless and uncaring and completely, and I mean completely closed off, become something else. Something even I'm afraid to recount in my own mind. He was... vulnerable and no longer himself, it was almost scary. It probably took a lot for him to find comfort in me and it shouldn't have; anyone who has to pull together the strength to be vulnerable with someone, even slightly, should not be allowed to be around other people, especially people like me.

People like me have hope of change and an imaginary world in their head where they're able to fix Angelo.

All night I contemplated how sick Angelo is. I mean no normal person could possibly kill for a living. I've known this ever since I was a child, watching my father do unjust, immoral things, devoid of an ethical compass to guide him back to a sensible lifestyle. Some people are never born with an ethical compass and sometimes I wonder if Angelo was always like this, or if he developed it and if he did develop it, what happened? What messed him up so much to the point where he could stomach taking the lives of people. Maybe the better question is who.

Angelo, from day one, has always valued control over comfort and when he lets it slip through his hands, he gets irrationally angry, and sometimes, he takes it out on me.

To which I say, get a therapist.

His simple touch made me ache, twisting and turning that night until I fell into sleep; for more reasons than one. Those hands have, and will forever terrify me, and I don't plan to dismiss that because some deep deep part of Angelo wanted me, maybe even needed me, but I know in my heart that he is not capable of feelings--maybe instincts--but by no means feelings. I repeated to myself over fifty times that I will not put false hope in him like I have a history of doing. I will not be victim to such manipulation, again.

"Ruth? Are you even listening?" Louis nudges my arm, running his hand through his sandy brown hair and taking me out of my daydreaming.

"Sorry, what did you say?" Temporarily zoning out is not unusual for me.

"I said," Louis huffs in annoyance. "Do you want anything?" He gestures to the coffee kiosk sitting next to the receptionist desk.

"Iced tea." I say putting my unruly hair into a ponytail.

Louis nods his head and five minutes later he comes back with iced tea and a hot, steaming coffee.

"How many more days do we have to be here?" I say, stirring my tea and looking around for Angelo.