Obsession (18+) (FINISHED) (2024)

23

Riley

Twenty minutes later, Paris pulled me through the front door, and slammed it behind us.

"Veo!" he called as I stared at the ground in horror, completely frozen and numb. "VEO! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?"

The man came running down the stairs at an instant, standing in front of him and I.

He gave me a concerned look before returning it to Paris. "Yes, sir?"

"Lock down the house," Paris instructed. "Complete lockdown. And I need patrol."

Veo nodded, Paris letting go of my wrist seconds later.

"Riley," he said a little sternly, eyes burning with rage and fear, "go to my room again. The one you woke up in, okay?"

That was his room? What was he going to do to me in there?

He wasn't still talking about consequences, was he? I heard the hint behind the type of consequences.

It was far from small innocent punishments.

"Paris..." I tried to reason.

His eyes narrowed. "Now."

But I nodded, every part of me still hollow and went upstairs, making my way to the room I woke up in and sat on his bed, contemplating my life choices.

I sat there for a full ten minutes before the panic vanished.

I stood after a moment of regaining my composure, snapping into action, and decided to search through his things to get better insight of who he was.

His room was clean for one; spotless, and I wasn't used to a teenage man's room to be so clean and healthy.

It could've been his staff or 'underlings' who cleaned it, but I tossed the thought.

Everything was white, not black.

He clearly wasn't goth or emo or whatever, but there was no color either.

He had good taste in bedsheets, I knew as I ran my hands on them.

There were a lot of intriguing things about him, he was strong and carried me places.

He wore a lot of plain colors like black, grey, or white.

I found myself wondering how it would feel if his calloused fingers slipped inside—

I slapped myself internally.

No, bad, Riley. Bad.

I gazed up then, eyes locking on his oak dresser.

Usually people hid there dirty secrets in the dresser.

I could raid through his stuff and torment him with his sex toys like he did with me.

So I ran over to the wood and opened the top drawer, shuffling through the contents and then went lower.

There was nothing in here other than plain colored shirts and pants.

Ugh.

But then something caught my eye.

There was an article of blue and pink clothing stuffed inside a bunch of regular clothes.

I pulled it out, curious as to why he had a splash of color in his black and white beauty.

But as I examined it, my breath caught at the sight of the jacket.

It was Bella's jacket; the one she wore the day she died.

Why did he have it?

But that meant...

My eyes rounded.

He was the killer.

A sudden knock cascaded on the door, startling me.

"Riley?" Paris called. "You decent?"

I immediately stuffed the jacket in the drawer and half-hazardly closed it, running over to his closet and rolled open the doors, closing them in front of me seconds later.

My heart hammered against my ribcage when he opened the door and walked into the room, scanning the area before exhaling, "Shit, she's gone. Fuck."

But I touched the wall, hoping to find some kind of hidden exit.

But that's when something sharp sliced my skin, and I sucked in a breath, gazing down at the source.

It was a mirror... A broken one.

I caught a shard and closed my hand around it, looking back up to find Paris pacing the room impatiently through the crack of the closet door.

"Riley?" he questioned. "Riley, are you in here?"

I backed myself against the wall behind me, hoping to melt into it and become a part of the plaster.

"Riley," he said then, "if you're in here, come out now and your punishment won't nearly be as bad."

Well, technically I wasn't in the room, I was in the closet, so that was a loophole.

He sighed, shaking his head.

Right as he was about to exit through the bedroom door, his eyes locked on the closet.

Shit.

I clutched the shard tighter when he stepped up to the closet, eyeing the door carefully before catching it.

Slit his throat, a part of me said.

Kill him slowly, said another.

At least wound him, said the third.

He might've fooled Claire and everyone else with his... kindness... but he was far from fooling me.

Serial killers were very good manipulators.

The closet door finally rolled open, and I didn't waist a second, I took the shard and slashed him across the cheek, making him yell out.

I didn't wait to see what his reaction would be, I just ran with the shard piercing into my skin, and blood lightly slipped down my wrist as I made my way to the exit.

"RILEY!" Paris screamed in anger.

I'd get the police to come here so they could save Claire and everyone else.

I couldn't do it on my own no matter how much I wanted to, not even if I shot Paris in the balls.

He always had followers lurking everywhere.

I was proven right when Veo suddenly stepped away from the wall and blocked my path to the front door.

I skittered to a stop before he could catch me and backed away.

"Miss Princes..." he whispered.

I then spun around and ran the opposite direction, turning a corner before Veo or Paris could follow me.

I saw a staircase here, anyway.

So I darted to the open door and ran down the stairs two steps at a time, not stopping until I reached the bottom.

It was a basement, but it was cluttered with a lot of weird stuff, so I could hide down here easily.

"Riley, come back here!" Paris called from upstairs, and I only closed my eyes and swallowed down a lump in my throat.

But I ran to a corner hidden by a bunch of boxes, and crouched down in the darkness, holding the shard tighter despite it burning my skin.

AUTHORS POV:
Do you guys think that Paris is the bad guy?