Love Obscene (Obscene Duet Book 1) Page 2

  Did she set me up? It wouldn’t surprise me. My mother did whatever she had to to coerce me into staying home. It was that simple fact that made me decide not to tell her about the car.

  “This is Redwood. We both know nothing exciting happened.” I stated dryly.

  She froze with her fingers still in my hair.

  “Your mouth has been getting worse and worse lately,” she reprimanded me in her usual sharp tone. “That isn’t how you speak to your mother. After everything I’ve given up to raise you, I deserve your utmost respect.”

  It didn’t work like it once had, and her traditional adage had long ago begun to irritate me. She complained about having to raise her children, but wasn’t that generally what a mother did?

  She believed she had the right to control me, even now I was an adult. I was expected to honor her, and pay homage, just because I was her daughter. She wanted me to be her idea of perfect. Ignore the fact that there was a whole world out there; I never got to explore, never spoke up for myself, and did exactly as I was told.

  Unfortunately for her, I was far from her definition of perfection. Her opinions and controlling nature were beginning to not hold water.

  I think she was becoming aware of that every time she talked to me as if I were an invalid. I may have been a little different, but I was far from stupid.

  “I’m tired.” Gently knocking her skeletal hand from my hair, I stood up and walked towards my bed with every intention of going to sleep.

  “Don’t forget, I’ll be leaving tomorrow afternoon. When I get back, I expect you to be packed and ready to go.”

  She was straightening out her peach colored suit-dress and walking out of my room before the last word fell from her mouth. She flipped the light off and shut the door behind her.

  Shaking my head, I climbed into bed after turning on my bedside lamp. Glenda hadn’t been this controlling when it came to my older sister. Annie had been allowed to attend school, go to prom, and even have a few boyfriends.

  She wasn’t around anymore. At first, she stuck it out for my benefit, but the day after her nineteenth birthday was her breaking point.

  Seven years have passed, and she still hasn’t come back. Not for a visit, or even a check-up.

  My father left late one night after another of his and my mother’s many arguments. The next morning, not a single picture of him was on the walls, and he never returned. That was four years ago, but the hurt from his abandonment was a wide-open wound.

  My mother drove people away. She was like a leech sucking the life out of me. Settling beneath my comforter, I stared up at the popcorn ceiling, waiting for sleep to come. It was nights like these I hated the most. There was nothing worse than being alone.

  When I asked myself how many people would mourn me when I was gone, the answer was none.

  I’d be forgotten the second the dirt hit my casket.

  Chapter Five

  The next day started the same as any other.

  There was no sign of the creepy sedan, and I began to wonder if I ever really saw it. Who would want to follow me, anyway?

  It was a little past four in the afternoon. The diner had been dead all day, and there was nothing for me to do. I think I had needlessly wiped down the tables and straightened menus a dozen times. Part of me felt bad about not telling Janice goodbye, but she would instantly know something was going on.

  Her attempts to help me always involved a card for a therapist that worked at the clinic. No one understood this wasn’t about some traumatic incident - I was just tired of fighting the waves of loneliness.

  People might call me crazy or weak-minded; it didn’t matter. No one would ever understand what was going on inside me. What I found tiring was the fact no one noticed me drowning. They were all oblivious.

  When the bell of reality chimed, I expected Mr. Bell to walk in; he was a regular who came in every day at the same time. Instead, a man in a suit strolled in. He looked like he was there for something far more important than what was on the menu. His eyes immediately locked onto me.

  I opened my mouth to greet him, quickly snapping it back shut, my tongue and stomach simultaneously twisting into knots. Walking right up to the bar, he sat down on one of the red swivel chairs and smiled.

  “Are you going to speak or are you going to stand there and stare all day?”

  “Sorry.” Giving him an embarrassed smile, I peered up at him, trying to figure out why he seemed so familiar, desperately hoping my face wasn’t bright red. When his gaze dropped to the elastic bands that covered my failed suicide attempt, I hid my hands behind the counter.

  “Do you need a menu?” I asked, bringing his attention back to my face.

  “No, I just want coffee. Dark roast, two hazelnut creamers, one sugar.” He took off his suit jacket, hanging it on the back of the chair, and pulled a cell phone from his pocket.

  While he was immersed in his screen, tapping away, I readied his coffee, watching him from beneath lowered lashes. Sophisticated was the first word that came to mind as I took him in again. Not a crevice or crease could be seen anywhere on his navy suit.

  His hair was the color of onyx, styled in a classically tapered fade, and he had the slightest hint of stubble on his face.

  But it was the color of his eyes that kept catching my attention. They reminded me of the forest green tips on tall pines, with a faded denim blue circling the iris. He was enticingly handsome; by far the best looking man I had ever seen in town.

  He reeked of old money and cocksure power. I was intrigued. Who was he, and why was he there? Though he looked familiar, I couldn’t place how I would know him. I felt like I’d met him before, which made no sense, because there was no way I would have forgotten that.

  After I had placed his hot coffee in front of him, heavy silence ensued between us. The only sounds in the diner were Janice in the back, shifting boxes as she did inventory, and Jose stacking dishes.

  I stood there, feeling awkward and unsure of what to do with myself. Just as I decided to busy myself on the other side of the bar, he began speaking to me again.

  “I’m Mason, in case you were wondering.” He rested his elbows on the bar, leisurely sipping his drink.

  Mason suits him.

  I turned the name over in my head, committing it to memory.

  “I’m Katie.” I gave him a small smile, gradually relaxing.

  “I know.” When he smiled again, his dimples revealed themselves in his cheeks. The man looked like he belonged in magazines; how could he possibly know who I was?

  “Your father told me all about you.”

  “My father?” I repeated back, furrowing my brows. If he knew my father, then his familiarity made a bit more sense. Maybe I had seen him before.

  “Yes, Allen, your father. Based on what he’s told me, your aspiration in life wasn’t working at a hole-in-the-wall vintage diner.” He shrugged.

  Well, Mason was clearly bold and straightforward. The mention of my father’s name, coupled with the fact that he’d spoken about me to a stranger, set my teeth on edge.

  “Oh, so because a man I haven’t seen or spoken to in four years mentioned me, you suddenly know all about me?” I checked, shaking my head when he smirked at me like that’s exactly what he meant.

  Fortunately, Mr. Bell arrived and gave me something else to do. I was never interested in any of the customers, and talking to them was an absolute no go. Mason had been inside for all of fifteen minutes, and I was ready to have a drawn out debate with him.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Bell,” I greeted him warmly. He was the only customer I ever looked forward to seeing.

  He shuffled inside, donning a blue Hawaiian themed button up, cargo shorts, and a golfer hat to cover his white hair. I always thought he was the cutest little old man.

  He’d never been rude to me or treated me as an outsider - like most of the town did

  “Katie.” He tilted his cap, taking a seat on the left side of the bar, “Mr. Andre
ou?” He did a double take when he finally spotted Mason, damn near falling off his stool.

  I froze in the midst of grabbing a coffee mug. All the homeschooling and shunning in the world couldn’t stop someone from recognizing that surname.

  The Andreous practically owned Redwood and the two surrounding towns. It was their family’s money that funded most of the business start-ups. I didn’t understand why one of them would feel the need to venture into Malty’s. Maybe I was profiling him, but the diner was far beneath them.

  Forcing myself to continue what I was doing and act naturally, my mind ran rampant with questions I’d never ask because I wasn’t sure I wanted them to be answered.

  Chapter Six

  The way he was staring at me made me feel naked. Like he was sizing me up.

  Between the sedan following me home, the roses, and now one of the most powerful men around randomly dropping inside the diner, I was almost ready to end my shift early and go home. I couldn’t, though. The day had to pan out as regularly as possible.

  I stayed clear of Mason for the remainder of my time on the clock, only refilling his coffee once.

  No matter where I went, his eyes seemed to always find me. Usually, this would have me floating on flames, but I didn’t mind it. Though I should have. I was at the center of his attention, and something told me that wasn’t a place I should want to be.

  I frowned, peering out the door, watching the rain come down in sheets. The sky had gone from bright and sunny to dark and gloomy an hour or so ago. Almost like my mood.

  All I wanted to do was go home, shower, and fall asleep forever. Now, a twenty-minute walk had just been turned into a half an hour one. When it rained in Redwood, it was always with the force of a hurricane.

  The few cars in the parking lot swayed from the wind’s strength. Pulling my hair back with an elastic and tucking my meager tips in my back jean pocket, I prepared myself for another run home.

  “You’re not planning to walk, are you?” A smooth voice questioned from directly behind me. Slightly jumping, I pushed the door open, almost getting drenched. Mason pulled me back in with a gentle hand on my shoulder, yanking the door shut in the process.

  “It’s just rain,” I pointed out.

  “It’s not safe,” he retorted.

  Raising my brows, I looked up at him, biting back a smile. If this is what insta-lust felt like, then I was feeling it. His lips looked soft. He had a visible body definition beneath his suit, and he had the face of pure temptation. It was so cliché to want the beautiful, dangerous stranger in a suit.

  Realizing I was staring at him like a love-struck fool, I quickly looked away.

  “I won’t melt from a bit of water.”

  “I’m not talking about the rain; I’m talking about you walking home in the dark.” His tone was crisp, curt. Like he was genuinely concerned about my well-being. For someone like me, that was incredibly kind. Not even Janice had tried to stop me from walking home in the dark.

  “I’ll be okay; it’s a small town. The walk doesn’t take me long.”

  “Small towns have dark secrets.” He gently nudged me to the side, taking my spot by the door. “ I’ll give you a ride home.”

  I could feel my eyes nearly bug out of my head; I also realized the entire diner was watching us. My awkward disposition returned as I took a step back.

  “I can’t get in a car with–”

  “Jesus, I’m not going to kidnap you, Katie. I’m taking you straight home,” he laughed, cutting me off, “Do I look like someone who kidnaps little girls?”

  Did he just call me a little girl? My face flamed crimson. Seriously, the guy was a bit of a jerk.

  “Stay here; I’ll have the car pulled around.”

  Before I could object again, he was out the door. Keeping my back to the diner patrons, I watched the rain swallow him whole.

  What was one car ride going to hurt?

  Chapter Seven

  Mason came back for me, armed with an umbrella.

  He guided me from the diner to an all black sedan, pulling the back door open for me. Shooting him a wry smile, I got in the car, sliding across a leather seat. When he slammed the door shut, a lock clicked into place. There was a balding man in the driver’s seat who didn’t react to anything going on around him until Mason got in.

  Has he been outside the whole time?

  As soon as the other door clicked shut, the driver began making his way down the street. I waited for an anxiety attack or some other emotional meltdown to happen, but nothing drastic occurred.

  Mason had resumed typing away on his phone, and I relaxed, but it was short-lived. I figured out pretty quickly we weren’t going towards my house.

  Glancing over at Mason, I saw him fiddling with something on the floor.

  “What are you doing? Where are we going?”

  “I want to get this out of the way, so there’s no confusion later.”

  “Get what out of the…” my voice trailed off when I saw a brown cloth in his hand. Countless movies and television shows flashed through my mind.

  “Mas–” He covered my mouth and nose before I could finish. Every emotion I’d just been feeling was replaced with panic.

  I grabbed at his hands, but he was much stronger than me, and there was only so much room to maneuver around in. My back hit the seat as I jerked backward. Mason leaned over me, keeping the rag clamped down on my face.

  “Just go to sleep. You’ll be home soon.”

  Struggling was fruitless, and my attempts at holding my breath failed miserably. I had no other choice but to inhale the pungent, sweet aroma. Within seconds, my extremities began to go numb. My vision and hearing went out together. The last thing I heard him say was that he wasn’t sorry.

  Chapter Eight

  Acquisition is the act of acquiring or gaining possession of something, and that’s exactly what I had just done. Gained possession of someone.

  Sweet, little Katie. We were finally together again.

  I gently stroked a thumb over her cheek, watching the rise and fall of her chest, cradling her head in my lap. All the photos I’d seen in the past three years didn’t do her an ounce of justice.

  She had skin that naturally glowed, and was as smooth as porcelain. I couldn’t wait to see it bruised and bleeding. Thick, long, dark hair I could bury my hands in as she choked on my cock. And a soft, feminine body I would take with or without her consent. When her gorgeous blue eyes shed salted tears, I would taste them with the tip of my tongue. My heart raced when I thought about all the things I wanted to do to her.

  I’d taken plenty of women, and occasionally some men, but they always rode in the trunk and never lived for more than a week. Some men and women were brought to me. Mainly because I’d chosen to follow in my father’s footsteps, and had a unique hobby of my own.

  I never wanted to be known simply as Julian Andreou’s son. I earned my good reputation by always delivering for my clients, and never taking shit from anyone in my area of business.

  Most of the women were used for everything their bodies had to offer. The rest I turned into works of art for my private collections.

  None of them were like Katie. She was special, and because she was special, her decimation would be beautiful. I settled back into the seat of my chauffeured sedan, keeping the chloroform and rag close beside me in case she started to wake anytime soon.

  It was never my intention to take her this way, but I couldn’t leave her behind after seeing her again. Her mother had socially and emotionally isolated her away from damn near everything and virtually everyone.

  I saw the sadness in her eyes and the darkness in her smile. I couldn’t let her end the life that I had so many plans for. I was nothing to her but a familiar stranger. For now. When she woke up, there would be a new house, a new town, a new way of life waiting for her.

  More importantly, I’d be waiting for her.

  And in due time that would be all that mattered.

&nb
sp; Part Two

  Transition

  Chapter Nine

  I paced around my living room, waiting for the doctor to come back down.

  My father sat on the sofa, completely relaxed with a smirk identical to mine on his face. If someone we didn’t know saw us side by side, they would be more inclined to think we were twins rather than father and son. I was the spitting image of him, with a slight difference in eye color.

  Because of the way I was and the things I did, people tended to think I grew up with a troubled childhood.

  Nothing could be farther from the truth. My father spoiled the shit out of me. He shoved a proverbial silver spoon in my mouth. We had always been close; the man raised me on his own for seven and a half years.

  He had dealt with a situation similar to this one, and I knew I could learn from his errors. It’s what made my father’s advice ten times more valuable. Now that Katie was upstairs, sedated, I was wondering what the best approach was in introducing her to the world I lived in.

  “Do you remember how your cousin learned to swim?” My father asked after a minute.

  “Uncle Luca threw him in the pool and told him to drown or live,” I answered.

  I would never forget that day; I’d stood off to the side, wondering if I should jump in or not and save him.

  “Exactly.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

  “I don’t follow.”

  “You can’t hide who you are, Mason. Not when it comes to her. The good guy act doesn’t work for men like us. It never has. Immerse her in our world; show her who you are. If, or when, you get her to understand who you are, and that she’s yours, the battle is won.”

  I began to see where he was going with the conversation, and it was brilliant. The simplicity of what I had to do should have been obvious from the beginning. Easing her into my life was the wrong course of action. I needed to throw her in head first. The mind was a lethal weapon, and I could use it against her.