STRANGE LOVE | RAFE CAMERON |

CHAPTER 33: | UNHEALTHY OBSESSION |

When Allison finally stirred, the world around her felt distant, her body aching as though she had been underwater for hours, drowning in darkness. The last thing she remembered was Cole's cold whisper in her ear before everything went dark. The remnants of the drug still clung to her, making every movement sluggish and uncoordinated. Her head pounded with a dull, throbbing pain, and a sense of dread crept over her as she realized that she wasn't in Rafe's house anymore. She blinked several times, her vision blurry, struggling to focus on her surroundings.

The room was suffocating, dimly lit by a flickering bulb hanging from the ceiling, casting eerie shadows across the concrete walls. It was cold, sterile—nothing like Rafe's house with a familiar warmth. She shifted, feeling something cold and rough digging into her wrists, and when she looked, panic shot through her like ice water in her veins. Her wrists were bound in shackles, the rough metal cutting into her skin. The mattress beneath her was thin, and every inch of her body screamed in discomfort.

Her throat was painfully dry, and when she tried to call out, her voice was barely a hoarse whisper. "Help me... someone, please..."

But the silence that followed her words only deepened the pit in her stomach. No one was coming. She was alone, trapped. Where was she? Why was this happening?

The sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs made her freeze. Her heart pounded against her ribcage as the door swung open. Her breath caught in her throat, and her pulse quickened as Cole entered the room. He carried a tray with a cup of water and a small plate of food, his face calm—too calm. He set the tray down next to her, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world.

When their eyes met, a sickening wave of realization crashed over her. This wasn't the Cole she thought she knew. There was no warmth in his gaze, no kindness—just cold detachment. And maybe a hint of something far worse.

"You're awake." His voice was devoid of the warmth she once knew. There was nothing left of Cole who had been her friend and confidant. In his place stood a stranger—someone unrecognizable, terrifying in his detachment.

Allison's throat tightened. "What the hell did you do to me?" Her voice wavered, trembling with a mix of fury and terror.

Cole set the tray down beside her, unfazed by her accusation. His calm demeanor only fueled the rising dread in her chest. "What does it look like?" he asked, almost casually. "You hurt me, Allison."

Allison's mouth went dry, her pulse pounding in her ears. "I hurt you?" She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You drugged me, you kidnapped me! How did I hurt you?"

He nodded, his eyes cold, devoid of the emotion she had once trusted. "I knew you'd run back to him," he continued, his voice eerily calm. "You didn't even hesitate to go to the party when you realized it was his house. You were hoping he was there, weren't you?"

The words hit her like a punch, each one dripping with accusation. Allison's heart raced, her mind scrambling to keep up. "What? Was that some kind of test?" Her voice trembled as confusion and anger warred within her. How could he twist everything like this?

Cole leaned closer, his breath hot against her skin. "I had to test you," he whispered, his tone laced with something darker, more sinister. "I had to see if it was me or him. Now I know."

Allison recoiled, the weight of his words sinking in. He's completely lost it.

"Cole, please... you don't have to do this," she pleaded, her voice trembling. Her heart thudded against her ribs, the reality of the situation clawing at her insides. "This isn't you."

But his smile was bitter, devoid of any kindness. "It's too late for that, Allison. You made your choice when you went back to him."

Her head spun, trying to make sense of his twisted logic. How could he believe this was about Rafe? "This isn't about Rafe," she whispered, shaking her head. "It doesn't have to be like this."