Page 35 of Framed Obsession

“You and I—” I say, this time shoving my finger roughly into his chest,

“—will finish this later. Let's deal with Flynn first.” He nods in agreement, and I can already see the worry hidden in his eyes. He knows how my wrath can take over, and I’m telling you, it’s not fucking pretty. I turn to the snitch sitting in the chair. He’s passed out.

Great.

“Yoo-hoo. Buddy boy, I want you to be awake for this.” I say, slapping his cheek. His neck moves to the side, and one eye flutters open. I slap him a few more times until both eyes open. He moans, blood still dripping from his toothless mouth. I hand Zane my pocketknife and he looks at me in confusion.

“Now you owe me,” I threaten. He lets out a sigh and grabs the blade from me. I move to the side and reach an arm out, implying he can continue. He stands in front of Flynn, bringing the blade to his neck. He thrashes in his chair at the realization of what's about to happen, and just as he is about to scream, the sound of flesh separating fills the air, leaving a gurgling sound.

“Make sure you clean my knife really well,” I say sarcastically as I head upstairs to take a shower.

Chapter 27

The Flower

My limbs shake as they stretch out. A deep yawn and chills instantly erupt, waking all the follicles on my skin. I've had such a long week I almost want to forget half of it. What happened to my life being uneventful? I think I’ve taken that for granted.

The early morning sunrise peaks through my curtains, leaving the room lit in a soft yellow light. I peer over at my phone, pressing it awake, seeing it read 8 a.m., I press the little x button to cancel my alarm. Wow, I woke up an hour early today? Who is she?

I lift the covers off myself and swing my legs over the side of the bed. Soft, pillowy cushions hug my feet as I slip them inside my slippers. I wiggle my toes for a moment, basking in the comfiness.

I lean over my nightstand, smelling the bouquet that's on its last day of life. I take a big inhale of the earthy scent, a smile heatedly overtakes my face. I blink a few times, noticing a familiar black envelope next to the glass vase.

Here we go again. Is it concerning that I consider it ‌part of my daily routine now? I tear the little sticky fold open and reach inside. One note and one picture lay inside. I hold them up, reading the note first.

Taste me after what—?

Oh god.

I hold up the polaroid, seeing it's a picture of a recording that looks like it's coming from my room. It's me. Last night? No, no, no. Did he watch me get off to Axel? I look around my room, scanning the walls and ceiling as if I'm going to find an obvious camera. Nothing but paintings and white walls accompany me.

“Hello? Are you watching me?” I yell into the open air. It’s not like he's going to talk out of nowhere and say, “yes, I’m watching you.” I can’t believe he spied on me. I haven't felt the need to.. get off in a while. Since before the night of my attack.

I’ve been disgusted by any touch. Going to the grocery store and the cashier accidentally touching my hand had me feeling repulsed. I even have a little hesitation with Zoe. Not to mention Parker. I can’t believe the scene he caused and what he did to me.

Every touch just repulses me, besides Axel’s, and I’m not sure why. My only connection to him is through our professional relationship as client and provider. Oh no. I hope dropping me off at work wasn’t weird for him. I hope I didn't make it weird. So many thoughts play in my mind, torturing me, and I don’t know what to do with them all.

Is it possible to run away from your own mind? Yes, Dahlia. It’s called dissociation, and we are not doing that. Sighing, I place the picture and note back on my nightstand, not wanting to even deal with it. I stand, grabbing my robe that hangs on my bathroom door, covering myself and tying it in place. My body grumbles, needing my morning coffee. I turn the knob on my door and peer out of it before heading down the hall to the kitchen. Zoe is an early bird, and I already know she is out there.

The delightful smell of coffee brewing is already blessing my senses. As soon as I reach the kitchen, I see Zoe doomscrolling on her phone. She is sitting at the island on a tall bar stool. She turns my way and raises her eyebrows in surprise.

“Wow, someone's up early!” she says, teasingly. I give her a gentle smile. The appreciation I have for her bubbly personality is monumental, but it is still early, so I need to process her words for a moment. I shuffle to the coffeepot still being kept warm by the base.

“Good morning to you too,” I respond, grabbing a mug off the little rack that's placed next to the coffee bar. I hear a little giggle behind me, and I can't help but grin. The brown liquid pours like a beautiful amber waterfall. I swear, coffee was one of the best things to be created.

“How have you been feeling lately?” she asks at my back.

“I’m okay. I have something I should tell you. That I can’t believe happened to me yesterday, and I need some advice.” My voice is shaky at the unknowingness of the judgement I may receive. Like I said, it’s one thing after another and I can’t seem to catch a break.

“Oh no, D. Did something else happen?” she asks. I hear her adjust in her seat behind me. I pour some of the hazelnut creamer she left out into my coffee until it turns a pale milky brown. The liquid swirls like a mini-tornado as the spoon I use to combine the mixture clinks against the ceramic, stirring it all together. I turn to her, seeing she’s leaned forward with elbows rested on the granite.

“Yes, but before you freak out… also no? I don’t know how to describe it. I’ll just have to tell you about what happened.” I move around the island and pull out the other bar stool and climb onto it. I’m pretty short, so everything is extra work for me. It’s nothing I mind; climbing onto everything is second nature to me.

“You came home pretty late last night. It's unlike you to be out other than with me.” She elbows me, and little splashes of coffee leak from the brim of the mug, staining the counter in contrast. I don’t bother cleaning it up.

“Yeah, about that… So, many things happened. I know I’ve mentioned once before that Parker has been increasingly annoying with his flirting. Last night, while I was working late, he basically forced me to have dinner with him.” I roll my eyes in memory.

“Shut the fuck up! He did not? What happened?” Her hand comes out, giving my forearm a hard squeeze in surprise. The gesture makes me wince in multiple ways, but I don't remove it.