Obsession (18+) (FINISHED) (2024)

22

Riley

"HEAD DOWN!"

I listened, and Paris slammed on the gas, making me shriek when we launched forward.

I spared a glance at him when the speedometer reached twenty then forty then eighty.

"Paris!" I called in fear. "Paris, what's happening?"

He glanced at me. "Clutch the door, now."

I caught the handle on the door, and he swerved to the side, making me scream as we entered a field, the bumps rattling my bones.

I heard the truck zoom past us from behind at light speed.

I was gasping, and Paris was too, adrenaline pumping through our veins.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered in panic, pressing his head to the seat as he kept his eyes on the rear-view mirror.

"Paris...?" I whispered.

He clutched the steering wheel suddenly, hands tightening around the leather. "He's coming back. Fuck," he muttered when I found the truck backing up and getting onto the field. "Hold on," Paris said.

And he hit the gas again, lurching the car toward the forest ahead as I screamed in panic, clutching onto the door handle for dear life.

Paris swerved to the right of the trees and sped past us from the side, the truck following behind us.

He then spun the wheel to the right, making me cry out when we entered the road again, zooming down the highway.

"Riley!" Paris yelled.

"What?" I called back.

"I'm about to do something terrifying!" he called, switching lanes on the toll highway until we hit the far right. "But don't worry!" he told me over the engine. "We're going to be okay! This car can handle it! Just press your head to the back of the seat!"

"What are you talking about?" I cried.

"Trust me!" he told me.

And we hit a bridge, my eyes widening when he drifted to the right, the truck coming close behind us.

But I was more focused on Paris.

"Paris!" I screamed. "Paris! What the hell are you doing?"

"Hold on!" he told me.

"Don't tell me you're going to jump off right now!" I yelled. "That's INSANE!"

"Press your head to the back of the seat!" he said. "Do it NOW!"

I listened, still trying to reason with him. "PARIS, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? PARIS!"

And he drove off the edge, making me scream while we flew off, my stomach sinking to my feet when tears left my eyes, and we got father and farther to the road below us.

"PARIS!" I cried.

"HEAD BACK!" he yelled in response.

I pressed my neck to the back of the seat, and the ground got closer.

Oh, God, I was going to die, wasn't I?

But Paris pressed my head to the seat with his hand; clearly to prevent me from breaking my neck or getting whiplash, but I screamed out as we got inches.

And the tires hit the ground, lurching me forward with inhuman force, but Paris's hand kept my head from falling forward.

And he's clearly done this many times before, because his head never left the seat.

And right as the impact burst through my body like fireworks, he took his hand away and continued driving, speeding away from the bridge at a hundred miles per hour.

I gasped heavily while my heart pounded against my ribcage, the force from Paris speeding not helping the hollow feeling in my gut.

AUTHOR POV:
Who do you think the killer is? Just curious.