Cruel Obsession Read online

  Stopping at the last cage that holds the new puppy, I smile. It’s some kind of shepherd mix, but its breed doesn’t matter, not when it’s as cute as it is.

  “Yeah, you definitely won’t last long, not with that face.” The pup is looking at me with big, brown eyes and a wagging tail. It isn’t unusual for me to talk to the animals. I don’t feel bad or weird about it. Not when the truth is, I’d rather talk to them than to another human.

  “Did you see him?” Sasha coo’s when I head back to my desk.

  Withholding an eye roll, I nod. “Yes, I saw him, and no, you cannot take him home with you. Henry would shit bricks if you brought another dog home.”

  Her lip curls into a frown. “Maybe I should get rid of him then? The dogs never let me down.” This is an ongoing thing with Sasha, she loves Henry, and he loves her, but they’re always fighting about something.

  “Tell me, are you on or off again?”

  “Neither.”

  “Right…” I shake my head.

  “What about you? You find anyone to share that huge apartment with yet?” I shoot her a look that says, really?

  “I don’t date, Sasha. You know this.”

  “Sorry, I thought maybe you met someone the other night, and that’s why you left so early. I didn’t even get to ask you what happened?”

  Goosebumps pebble my flesh at the reminder. “Yeah, about that, I, uhh… I left because there was this guy that wouldn’t leave me alone. He followed me when I left, and then right before I was going to call 9-1-1, he disappeared.”

  Sasha stares at me wide-eyed. “Holy shit, are you okay? Why didn’t you call me and tell me what happened?”

  Truthfully, calling Sasha wasn’t even something I’d think to do. All my life, I’ve been alone. I didn’t know how to rely on someone else because it had only ever been me.

  “I don’t know. I just… I was thankful that I had gotten away. I’m really lucky… it could’ve been much worse.”

  The thought of being raped and beaten, and then left in a gutter somewhere makes my stomach churn. You hear about it all the time in this city, but no one ever thinks it will happen to them, not until it does.

  “Not to sound like a total bitch because I do care about you and would never want anything to happen to you, but you’re the luckiest person I know. I mean, the guy just disappears? That never happens, and now that I’m thinking about it, you seem to be lucky all the time.”

  My brow furrows in confusion. “What do you mean? I’m not lucky.”

  Sasha gives me a disbelieving look. “Really? You don’t actually believe that, do you?” When I don’t say anything, she continues, “Let’s take your apartment, for example. It’s in one of the safest, nicest areas of the city. The rent there is insanely low, and the waitlist for that place is like a mile long. Yet, you somehow got in, and on top of that, you got a discounted rate on your rent.”

  “Yeah, I still don’t know how that happened either.” I truly don’t. All I did was submit an application and hope for the best.

  “What about how you got your car? The guy just wanted it gone so badly, he gave it to you for a fraction of the cost? Then, after all of that, even brought it to you because you didn’t have a way to get over there. Come on, you’ve got to see it too?”

  “I mean, I see it, but I don’t know if I would consider it luck.”

  Sasha rolls her eyes. “Girl, start playing the lottery because you’re a good luck charm.”

  All I can do is shake my head and laugh at her. I’m not lucky, not really, right? As we work throughout the day, answering calls and setting the animals up to find their forever homes, I can’t shake the conversation away and come to the conclusion that I truly am lucky.

  I escaped death the other night, or at least something that would’ve been close to it. I went to college and got a nice place to live, and a car for a really good price. This job even fell into my lap, so I suppose I agree with Sasha a little, though I won’t tell her that.

  It’ll go straight to her blonde head.

  Doing our final walkthrough, I stop at the new puppy’s cage. “Don’t worry, buddy, you won’t be here for long.”

  “Who are you talking to?” A voice startles me, and I jump back half a foot and grip onto my chest, my heart beating right out of it. Looking to the side, I see Shawn standing only a few feet from me.

  “Jesus, Shawn, you scared me,” I say, the words coming out in a rush as I try and calm myself.

  Giving me a dimpled grin, he says, “Sorry, didn’t mean to use my ninja skills on you.”

  “Next time you scare me like that, I might need to use my ninja skills on you. Which consists of a punch in the face.” I say, smiling.

  “Whoa.” He puts up his hands, showing me his palms in surrender. “Easy killer. I’ll try not to sneak up on you anymore.”

  “You better, for your own safety,” I joke. Shawn has been working here for a few weeks now, and we’ve quickly become friends. We joke and laugh together all the time, which are two things I always welcome. Plus, it helps that he’s good looking, not that I spend my day checking him out or anything. It’s hard to ignore his dreamy, blue eyes, and model-like features.

  “So… I was actually wondering what you’re doing tonight?” he asks as we are walking back to the front.

  “Tonight? Ahh...” I look at him wide-eyed. Is he trying to ask me out? “Nothing, I guess,” I finally say.

  “Cool, I was wondering if you wanted to grab something to eat… with me?”

  “Yes,” I blurt out before thinking about it. Way to sound desperate, Dove.

  Shawn chuckles. “Okay, I guess that’s a yes. Do you just want to meet there, or I can swing by your place, and we can go together?” He shoves his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. I should probably meet him somewhere, but I’ve always dreamt of going on a real date where the guy comes to the house and picks you up, so I push the paranoia away. Plus, it’s been forever since I went on a date or was asked out on one.

  I smile up at him, my belly filling with butterflies. “Yeah, that would be great.”

  “I’ll pick you up at six. Send me a text with your address.” We pause in the foyer, and when he smiles at me, my heart skips a beat.

  “Uh, yeah…” I stutter. Jesus, I need to work on my skills. Shawn waves goodbye to Sasha and then winks at me before walking out. As soon as he’s out of earshot, Sasha pounces.

  “Oh, my god, he finally asked you out. Jesus, I never thought that was going to happen. The boy has been watching you since he started.”

  My cheeks start to warm. “He has not!”

  Sasha nods. “Yup, and now you’ve gone and made his dreams come true.”

  “It’s just a date, not like we’re getting married or anything.”

  “Yet… not getting married yet.”

  Ignoring her, I get my stuff together and prepare for my drive home. I can’t believe I have a date. A real date. Not that I’d have a fake date or something, or that I’m so ugly that no one finds me attractive, but it isn’t often that guys ask me on dates. Usually, I find I have to build up the courage to do it.

  “I’m so proud of you, Dove. Maybe tonight will be the night.” Sasha wiggles her eyebrows.

  “Shut up,” I say, laughing as I get into my car.

  * * *

  After spending an hour curling my hair, I move on to my makeup. I don’t wear it often, mostly due to my lack of skill when it comes to putting it on. Taking my time, I apply the foundation, add some eye shadow, and only manage to stab myself twice in the eye with the mascara. After, I walk into the bedroom and start pulling every dress I own from the closet.

  Yes, I know it’s just a date, and we see each other every day at work, but I want Shawn to see me as more than the girl in always sees in jeans and a T-shirt. I want him to maybe wonder what’s underneath. Shaking my head at the thought, I find a cute dress and decide to pair it with some dark tights and heels.

  For a moment,
I stand in front of the mirror in my bra and panties, trying not to look at my reflection, but like a magnet, my eyes are drawn to it. It’s like the sun, you know it will hurt your eyes, but you still want to look at it.

  As soon as I see myself in the mirror, my eyes find the ugly scar marring my otherwise smooth stomach. My hand raises on its own to touch the raised skin. It’s an old habit I can’t seem to shake. Running my fingers over that horrendous scar, I try not to let the memories of how I got it bubble up.

  Instead, I worry about what Shawn might think if he gets a chance to see it. Will he think I’m disgusting? Will he ask questions? Would I be able to answer? Pushing all of those concerns aside, I grab the dress and start slipping into it.

  Once dressed, I smooth my hands down the front of the dress and look at myself in the mirror.

  I can’t help but smile at how well put together I look. Applying a thin layer of gloss to my lips, I give myself the once over one last time and then make a beeline to the kitchen for my phone, purse, and a light jacket.

  Checking the time, I bubble over with excitement, realizing he should be here soon. Sitting on the couch, I wait like a child on Christmas morning. Max greets me with a purr as he brushes against my leg, begging for attention as he always does.

  Scratching the top of his head, I look down at him. “I can’t believe it, Max. I’ve got a date.” I’d hate to be that crazy cat lady who sits at home and talks to her cats, but if I don’t get a roll on this whole dating train, that’s the path I’m headed down.

  Anxiously, I watch the clock, and my excitement slowly turns to disappointment as the minutes continue to tick by without any sign of Shawn.

  Opening my text messages, I check to make sure I gave him the right address, which I did. I contemplate sending him a message, and after going back and forth over it, I decide to keep it simple and just ask if he’s still coming. Maybe he had something come up? Maybe he can’t figure out where I live? I try and come up with any excuse I can, but deep down, I know it’s not really any of those things.

  It’s pitiful how long I stare at my phone, waiting for a text message to come through that never does. An ache forms in my chest after a short time, and stupidly, tears fill my eyes and slide down my cheeks. I swipe at the treacherous tears, wishing I didn’t care so much.

  There must be something wrong with me. I know I’m not that pretty, but I don’t think I’m worthy of always being left in the cold. Every time I have a date, they either don’t show, or there is never a second one even though the first goes great.

  Swallowing down the pity I’m feeling, I change out of the dress and into an oversized T-shirt and then go into the bathroom and wash my face. It’s obvious, he’s not coming, and even more obvious, he doesn’t plan to apologize for standing me up.

  When I’m done, I crawl into my bed and pull the covers over my head.

  What is wrong with me? Am I that repulsive? I don’t want to think about it, but maybe I’m not meant to be with anyone. Maybe I’ll actually become the cat lady with thirty cats, and her virginity intact. God, I hope not, but what are my other options? I can’t find a guy who wants me if I can’t get him to ever go on a second date, let alone a first.

  After a while, I doze off, hoping tomorrow will be a better day.

  4

  Her tears kill me more than anything. I’m a bastard for doing this to her, but I can’t help it. The thought of seeing her with another guy is unbearable. It’s easier to make the guy disappear than let her think she’ll ever have a future with him.

  The organ in my chest tightens as I watch her crawl into bed on my cell phone screen. I wish I could wipe her tears away. Tell her that everything is going to be okay. That she has me forever and doesn’t need anyone else.

  I doubt she would welcome me with open arms into her life. If she knew the things I’d done, and continue to do, how obsessed with her I am... how closely I watch her, and how often I’m inside her house, she’d be terrified, and I never want to see her look at me with fear in her eyes.

  Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I look out at the bright neon sign that’s flashing back at me. I had just finished with the Shawn guy when Christian called me for a job. He asked me to swing by Venus, the mob’s strip club.

  Upstairs is the strip club, but downstairs they maintain a brothel. Everyone in this town is paid off, the cops, the judges, any one of importance is paid blood money to keep their mouth shut because when you fuck with the wrong people, they send me to take care of you.

  Forcing myself out of the car, I make sure my gun is secure in the shoulder holster hidden beneath my jacket before I walk up to the back door. I make sure I have at least one weapon on me at all times. You never know when shit will hit the fan, and I’d rather be the one with a gun than without one.

  Lifting my closed fist to the door, I knock three times in quick succession. A moment later, the door is pushed open, and Diego, Christian’s right-hand, greets me. He looks more like a bear than human; huge, and muscular, with a face full of hair. His arms alone look like tree trunks, reminding me I should probably spend a little more time in the gym. Every inch of exposed skin is either tattooed or scared from the hundreds of fights he’s been in.

  “Zane,” He says gruffly.

  I nod my head to greet him. “Diego.”

  He gestures toward the hall. “Boss has been waiting for you. He’s in his office.” As if the boss would be anywhere else. Girls rush past me completely naked, but I don’t even glance their way. I lost my appetite for other women years ago. I used to fuck girls that looked like Dove, but even that wasn’t enough. There’s only one fucking woman for me. And if I can’t have her, I won’t have anyone.

  When I reach the door to Christian’s office, I don’t even knock. There’s no point, not when he’s expecting me. Opening the door, I find him sitting behind his desk, a glass of amber liquid placed in front of him. His face is blank as always, refusing to give away any emotion.

  I’ve worked for the Sergio family since I was a teenager. He somehow got me out of prison even though I was supposed to spend a few more years behind bars. He saw something in me and let me work for him. Slowly, I worked my way up, and now I’m one of his most trusted men.

  “You’re late,” he says. I want to tell him it’s five fucking minutes, but I don’t feel like arguing tonight.

  “Do you have a job, or did you just call me in here so you could bust my balls?” I slam down into one of the seats in front of the mahogany desk.

  “I like you, Zane, you don’t walk in here with fright, or like a death sentence awaits on the other side, and you have a sense of humor.”

  He smiles or at least attempts to. It looks more like a grimace than anything. Christian is considerably older than me, and I think he lost the ability to smile before I was born. His black and gray hair is slicked back, and his face looks weathered, but that could be simply from doing this shit for years.

  I shrug. “It’s not like you’re going to kill me. I’m the one dealing out death. Plus, I doubt if you wanted me dead, you would do it here.”

  He grabs his glass and takes a gulp of the liquid before setting the crystal glass back down. He stares at me intently—other men would be intimidated, but not me—and says, “First, I wanted to let you know that things with the Castro family are tense. They’ve been intercepting some of our drugs and undermining some other deals. If things continue the way they are, I might have a few jobs coming up for you. I’ll need you to handle those more silently than normal. No one can know that I’m the one calling the hits.”

  “Okay.” That’s a far cry from my normal job because usually Christian likes everybody to know who is responsible for the deaths I deal out. He’s known for being ruthless and killing for petty reasons. Once you’re on his shitlist, your days are numbered. So, I won’t deny that I’m a little curious, but not enough to ask any questions.

  “That won’t be a problem. Give me a list, and I’ll get the job done
.”

  “Besides the Castros, it seems like the Rossi Family is looking for a fight as well.”

  “Rossi, as in Xander Rossi?” I say, raising a skeptical eyebrow at him. Xander doesn’t look for fights, and most know better than to fuck with him.

  Christian frowns and takes a large gulp of his whiskey. He finishes the glass and slams it down onto the desk before grabbing the bottle and pouring himself another. “Yeah, the one and only.”

  I shouldn’t ask, not that it matters, but I’m curious… far more curious than I should be. “How did you end up on his radar?”

  He shakes his head like he’s trying to banish away a bad dream. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is staying off his radar for now. We can take care of him once I deal with the Castros, but until then, I need to stay on Xander’s good side.”

  “Got it. Play nice with the Rossi family… for now.”

  He takes another drink. “Perfect. I do have a different job I want you to do right now, and it’s a bit time-sensitive.”

  Where the hell are all these stipulations coming from?

  “You know any job you need, I can get done. Why’re you dragging your feet, Christian?”

  “Your next job is a woman. I’ll have Diego give you the folder with all of the details, but I need her dead within three days, and I want her body brought here. The boys will take care of it.”

  That little tidbit of information surprises me because typically, I have my cleanup crew take care of the bodies, but I don’t say shit. Women, men, doesn’t matter to me. All I see is a paycheck when I look at them, not a name, a family or a future. It’s easier that way.

  “Zane, have you listened to a fucking word I’ve said?” Christian snaps.

  “Of course.” I swirl the amber liquid in my glass. “Are we done here?”

  “Yes, but I want you to stick around for a little fun. I got a couple new girls, and every time I offer you one, you decline. You like cock, Z? ’Cause I don’t care what floats your boat. I can get you a pretty boy in here too.”