Behind the Badge: Obsession in the Shadows

Carve

As I lay in my stomach on the bed, my body was aching from his sick idea of fairness. My skin felt slightly cool from where the ointment had been applied. I wiped my face, trying to rid myself of the tears that had betrayed me earlier.

After a while, the door slowly creaked open, and I saw Gregory slowly step inside.

His eyes roam over me for a moment before he sits on the edge of the bed.

"How are you feeling?" He asked me; his voice was soft but yet firm as if he already knew the answer.

I swallowed my spit hard. "I'm fine," I whispered, my voice coming out shaky. My fear is obvious in my tone.

Gregory's eyes narrow slightly. "Madison, I need you to be honest with me." His hand reached out as he softly brushed his thumb along my cheek, wiping away a tear I hadn't realized I had. His hand is not leaving my jaw.

I floated involuntarily.

"You'll learn," he murmured.

I feel his thumb tracing my jaw.

"The more you fight, the harder this will be for you. But if you let go—if you just trust me—things will get easier. For you."

I nod slowly.

"Good girl." Gregory's smile widened, and he leaned in closer. "I knew you'd start to see it my way."

His lips brushed my forehead, the gesture almost tender. He stayed like that for a moment, his breath warm against my skin, before pulling back.

"I have something planned for us today," he said, standing up undid the cuff on my ankle, and moving toward the door. "You'll join me in the living room. You need to start feeling more comfortable here. After all, this is your home now."

My immediate instinct was to bolt sensitive skin on my bottom, a harsh reminder of what would happen if I tried to defy him again.

I followed him out of the room, my legs shaky as we walked into the living room. Gregory gestured toward the couch, and I sat down, my body tense.

Gregory sat beside me, closer than necessary. He draped an arm over the back of the couch, his fingers lazily brushing against my shoulder. I stared straight ahead, trying to ignore the way my skin tingled under his touch.

"You'll get used to this," he said quietly. "I'm not the monster you think I am, Madison. You just need to stop fighting me."

My heart raced. I felt him move even closer; his lips brushed against my ear.

"I know you're scared," he whispered, his breath hot against my skin. "But fear can be a powerful thing. If you let it, it can teach you. It can help you."

His hand slid to the back of my neck, his fingers curling into my hair.

"You'll learn to appreciate this," he murmured, his lips dancing over my jaw. "Sooner or later."

I swallowed hard, my pulse pounding in my ears. "Gregory..." I whispered, my voice barely audible.

His grip tightened slightly on the back of my neck, just enough to make me wince, and he turned my head to face him, his eyes locking onto mine. "What is it, Madison?"

I hesitated, fear clawing at my throat. "I'm trying. I'm trying to understand."

He smiled again, and this time, there was a dark satisfaction in his expression. "Good. Keep trying. The more you understand, the better things will be between us."

Gregory's hand slid down from my neck, his fingers tracing the length of my arm before settling on my wrist. He pulled my hand into his lap, his thumb brushing over my knuckles softly.

"I'm patient, Madison said softly. "But don't test me. You don't want to see what happens when my patience runs out."

I nodded, my throat tight.

"Good girl," he repeated, his eyes never leaving mine. He squeezed my hand before releasing it and stood up, leaving me on the couch.

As he walked toward the kitchen, I glanced at the front door, my mind racing with the impossibility of escape.

The moment Gregory turned his back, I pondered briefly, maybe milliseconds.

I steadied my breath; this might be my only chance.
My body moved before I could fully register it. I bolted off the couch and ran toward the door. Pure desperation, filled my veins.
My fingers barely touched the handle when a hard grip snatched me back, slamming my back into the door.

Gregory pinned me against the door, his breath coming out ridged. His body pins mine against the door. His breath brushed over my ear.

"I warned you," he growled lowly.

His words sent a wave of panic over me. As my heart pounded violently in my chest. As the adrenaline from my desperate attempt to run fades.

"But you just don't listen, do you?" He asked me, anger-laced. It wasn't a question; it was a statement.

I try to meet his gaze to show him that I'm not afraid, but the truth is you can tell as the chest rises and falls rapidly. "I wasn't thinking, please."

"Stop." He commands me. Before I feel his hand wrapping around my throat, squeezing tightly but not enough to hurt. His lips curl into an evil smile. "You're not sorry yet, baby, but you will be."

My body stiffens instantly as his words send a shiver down my spine.

He releases my throat, his hands moving to the front of my shirt. In one motion, he rips the fabric open, and my chest is suddenly exposed to the cool air. My breath stops as his fingers trace lightly over my skin on my shoulder.

"You think you can just run from me?" He asks me as he pulls out something from his pocket, flicking it open for my eyes to see. A knife, my eyes widen in fear.

"No, sweetheart. You're mine, and I'm going to make sure you never forget it."

My mind races, panic races in as he presses the kn against my skin, just above my heart. The sharp edge digs in, not deep enough to draw blood but enough to make me wince. He leans in close, his breath hot against my ear.

"Hold still. This is going to hurt." He says before he pins me down with his forearm and leg.

I gasped, tensing as the sharp edge of the blade traced a line down my neck to my collarbone, stopping just short of cutting into me. Gregory's grip pushed me in the door, my body still other than my hands. With an arm that pinned me down, he tilted my head to the side, exposing the tender skin of my shoulder.


"You think you can defy me and walk away unpunished?" His voice was cold, devoid of emotion, as he dragged the blade carefully across my skin. The sharp sting made tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I bit my lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing me beg.

He began to carve the first letter—*G*—into my shoulder. I whimpered, the pain slicing as the knife cut into my skin. It wasn't deep enough to cause lasting damage, but it was enough to mark me. I bite down on my lip, trying to keep from crying out, but a whimper escapes anyway.

"You're mine," Gregory growled, carving the next G. "Every inch of you belongs to me; now you will have a constant reminder." Gregory's eyes never leave my face as he carves my skin. "This is what happens when you try to leave me. I have to mark what's mine. Remind you who you belong to.

The pain was sharp and immediate; the heat of the wound made my entire body tense. But worse than the physical pain was the realization that he was branding me, marking me as his.

When he was done, he closed the knife and slid it back into his pocket. I was left trembling, and breathless, my shoulder throbbing with pain. His fingers brushed over the fresh wound, smearing the blood that had begun to well up, his touch almost tender.

The gesture makes more tears form in my eyes as he brushes his finger over my shoulder.
"Now you'll never forget who you belong to," he said, his voice soft but deadly. He leaned down, brushing his lips against my ear in a mockery of affection. "Every time that you look in the mirror now, you'll remember this moment. You will remember not to try and leave me again.

I choked back a sob, the reality of what he had done sinking in.

Gregory backed up, his gaze hard and satisfied as he admired his work. Without another word, he reached forward and took off my shirt.

Gregory tilts my chin up with his fingers. "You'll be good for me from now on, won't you?"

I swallow hard, nodding slowly.

He smiles. "Good girl. Now, let's get you cleaned up."