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Love Obscene (Obscene Duet #1)
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What would you endure for love?
I was nothing.
I was lost.
I was innocent.
I was an obsession.
Now I am his.
Reader Advisory 18+
Not for the faint of heart.
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The chains he clamped around my wrists heightened my discomfort. With every violent spasm, they clanged against the rickety, metal bed rails. Blood was running down the right; the left was locked at an odd angle, freshly broken. Thick pieces of rope wrapped around each of my ankles, holding my legs spread open.
A botch doctor stood off to the right, doing the best he could to wipe the sweat from my swollen face. The man I trusted to take care of me watched from the shadows. His green eyes showed no hint of emotion. The way his lips continued to purse, I knew he was either impatient or simply bored.
I wanted to scream at him, beg him to stop this, but the gag in my mouth effectively silenced me.
My pain was off the charts; it was hard for me to fathom how I was still wide awake.
I turned my head, catching a glimpse of my reflection in the cracked mirror hanging on the cellar wall.I looked exactly how I felt, like a terrified wild animal. My dark hair was in tangles, large bags puffed up my blue eyes, and the dim lighting illuminated the blood stains on the rag in my mouth.
When the doctor finally turned off the Pitocin drip, I slightly relaxed, but then a new pain started. This was hell. There was no other explanation for what my life had come to.
“Do you know the gender?” The doctor asked, pulling on a pair of blue latex gloves. He had his answer a few agonizing minutes later. As soon as the umbilical cord was cut, my baby was taken away. I heard the word boy, whispered in the midst of my sobs. The doctor wrapped him in a striped blanket, and then quickly left the room.
Dropping my head back to the stale mattress, I waited for what was coming next.
For the past three months, he’d been telling me I was going to die. I didn’t bother begging or pleading with my eyes. When he stepped up beside me, I let out a sigh of relief, just before a knife was dragged across my jugular.
It was finally over.
Every action has a reaction. Everything has consequences. This was mine for loving the wrong man.
Life is hard.
It’s simple, but it’s hard. Nothing is ever guaranteed to be permanent. Things can change in a matter of seconds. It happened to me, and I never saw it coming.
I’m not entirely sure how to tell our story. I always think I’ll fail at doing it justice. Most people like a good romance. They like having a hero they can root for, or an antihero that redeems himself. Our story contains neither. There is nothing romantic about it. Not in the traditional sense, anyway.
I didn’t fall for a knight in shining armor, and the one that did try to rescue me is buried in the backyard. My version of a hero was incomprehensible to outsiders. I fell for a man with a pitch black soul and a charm so deceptive he could outwit the Devil.
I was introverted, young, and insecure. He was confident, strong, and understanding of the way my mind worked. He was my release. Another soul I could cling to that made up half of me. But our relationship was far from sunshine and rainbows. It was toxic, twisted, and dangerously addictive.
He wasn’t an easy man to love. He had a bad habit of breaking my heart, just to rebuild it and shatter it again. Sometimes I think he would have rather destroyed me completely than love me at all.
I struggled with my feelings about the world he forced me to be a part of. He was always pushing me to fully accept who he was and the things he did. And for a little while, I tried to.
I’ll forewarn you that my decisions won’t always make sense. To fully understand, you would have to have been there. I know people will react based on how they perceive it. Some will be angry. Others disgusted. Maybe both – if they make it that far. It will require you to push the limitations of their minds.
Understand that the world is a dark, sometimes despairing place. Bad, unspeakable things happen whether you want them to or not. Those things are happening right this second. Someone is screaming for help, and you can’t hear them.
With that being said, I’ll begin on the day I met a man who would ultimately change my entire life, and save it. He was the handsome stranger mothers warned their daughters about. He’d been watching me for a very long time, waiting for the perfect moment to introduce himself.
I think everyone knows the stigmas that surround small towns.
Nothing ever happens, there’s nothing to do, and everyone knows everyone. For the most part, that’s all true. The last exciting thing to happen in Redwood was two drunks having a misunderstanding and throwing a few sloppily aimed punches.