The Darkest Obsession

Chapter 18

Brisha

The bandages tight around my shoulder with another scar to my collection rolled on my back. I hated that part of myself that wasn't attractive in front of the mirror. Moreover, what irritated me was that Damien had escaped, he ran away and probably all the way to Vinod that meant neither Lichelle nor her family was safe.

The number 1 irritation was Lichelle never phoned me in these past three days and that in itself was crime she would pay for by tonight. She never worries because she hates me or wishes for me to pass through hell like she wishes for, instead fear and guilt.

That woman just doesn't get how valuable she is to me like a diamond roughed in gold coatings. She plays in my mind like a good dream of meeting a faraway prince. Her hair that lightly blows with the breeze, her smile that pops every time she sees someone she cares about or loves (Including Drake, a headache I will never solve), her little smirk when she wins against me, her eyes that light up when I kiss here gently or her body that she feels she must hide.

She is a record of things to me, yet guilt eats her up like it eats me away. I still notice her hands shakes every time she grips a gun, that's my fault. She is turned on guilt for what I had done to a man who meant the most to her. I turned her savior and brother into a death statics.

I would take any risk for her not only because of the guilt of hurting that precious heart of hers, but to see her eyes live with no fear in them. I wanted her to live for a safe life where happiness is store of value. She could be the cunning fox she is in the court room and live with a smile on that angel like face.

This bullet wasn't enough to change me like she did and the pain of her would kill me instantly. Annoying part was her constant ignoring me and messaging Rhys for updates. The bloody prick was throwing a short smirk every time she messaged her concerns. I wanted to rip the phone out his hand and personally block and spam her on mine.

This stubborn little lady blocked my number as if that would help heal the wound. The scowls, the ongoing giggles of my two sidekicks, irritated my livers like the alcohol it was missing. She is burning my scar like salt against an open wound and rubbed. It sears every part of you and my fox doesn't get it that even if I may not show it the whole damn time. I need her, always even if it is a simple text, even the ''I hate you'' text.

Lichelle was the one thing the world nor God can take without my permission. The one thing, I never wanted to lose, the part of me I needed so badly. My dick could not contain myself around her, and I wanted to fuck as hard and many ways possible. Not because I am depraved of sex but her closeness and three days ago, I had he close enough that it felt like home. Holding her and publicly showing her to the world that was hers to conquer even if I had to kill any scum who walked in her way.

Thirty fucking dead bodies like steam in a sauna, still no Damien. ''Brisha, it seems they have made him vanished,'' Oliver said coldly. ''Dead probably, which it is not fucking good!'' I said with heat out my mouth. Even if the Elites manage to kill that worthless sea urchin, they know information. My hands clenched into a as the bodies of those who hands touched the trembling girls in the truck, I realized something and passed my look to Rhys and Oliver who quietly nod their heads.

The smoke fills the tarnished factory into bits of ash like the war that just begins with one atomic bomb. ''The fuckers are hidden ready to kill,'' Rhys snarled also irritated by the development. I sigh, as my blood runs cold and thick with an uncomfortable look on my face that intimidated most people, ''Then like lions we follow,'' my voice filled with malicious intent. Rhys eyes darken with a glint of sadism, ''Limb to limb,'' he smirks.