The Maddest Obsession

BETTER

For a second, I was confused, but then I realized he was talking about the mark on my face. "Yeah, well, don't throw me to the ground and almost rape me."

"Don't run away from me again." There was an edge to his voice. A warning.

I didn't say anything. Of course, I was going to run away the first chance I got. But after what happened today, I had to make a plan before even thinking of getting away. I knew what Christian was capable of now. That man was mad. Fucking crazy.

"What would it take? To stop you from running again?"

"A time machine."

His hand moved in my peripheral vision to grip my hair, and he forced my head back so he could stare down into my face. His eyes glint and fear shot through me again.

"If you run again, when I catch you, I'll hurt you. Worse than this."

My scalp ached, and my eyes watered. "I won't run," I gasped as I lied. I'd do anything right now to take his hands off me.

His lip curled. "You're lying. Don't run again, Stella. I don't want to hurt you."

His grip loosened a little.

He inclined his head. "You need to know your power."

"I have no power."

"To the contrary." His eyes darkened. "You decimate my control. If you run again, if you make me angry enough, I could kill you. I might not even mean to."

He offered a chagrined smile as if he was admitting to a minor fault, his expression almost boyish.

I didn't say anything as I stared up at him, my heart pounding with fear as I comprehended what he'd do next. Was he going to continue what he started?

But then his gaze softened as his finger ghost over my face. "You're hurt." He whispered.

Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.

"I almost fucked your head up with a stone, Christian and you sound so hurt because I have a scratch on my face."

He nodded. "I don't care if you hurt me, but it's unsettling for me to see you hurt."

I didn't know how, but I had the courage to scoff. "Don't tell me it doesn't hurt."

"No, it hurts like a motherfucker. I feel dizzy and Arnold stitched me up, too but it doesn't matter to me because I'd take anything you'd give me. I deserved it."

I scrambled back from his hold and surprisingly he let me. "Go away. Leave me alone."

He nodded. "I will, once you clean up. I don't like you covered in blood."

I stiffened as the memory rushed back in, his mad eyes and evil grin.

I jutted my chin, camouflaging my fear with defiance. "I don't like you here. You can't really expect me to listen to you after what you did to me."

He winced as his face fell. "I'm sorry. You've seen my temper, once. It won't happen again. Ever. Let me make it better."

"You can make it better by leaving me alone."