Driving My Obsession: A Dark Hitchhiker Romance by Lauren Biel

Author:Lauren Biel [Biel, Lauren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lauren Biel
Published: 2023-09-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

Ambrose

She doesn’t relax as she lies beside me. Each rigid muscle tightens with tension because she’s in bed with the thing of her nightmares. Instead of waking up and escaping the monster in her bad dreams, she’ll wake up next to it. And I’m enjoying that way too much. I listen in the dark, and her ragged breathing eventually shifts to something soft and even. It was only a matter of time. She didn’t get the heavy dose she took from the vodka bottle, but a sip will be enough to keep her knocked out for a while.

Now that she’s asleep, I’m left with my thoughts. I had one goal in mind when I agreed to drive her out here, and that was to end things. The perfect opportunity presented itself in the woods, but it only showed me how weak I truly am. Instead of digging a deep grave to hide my unleashed vengeance, I’m lying beside her to ensure she doesn’t run off. I keep coming up with excuses to keep her alive, but I can’t continue to do this.

Even though I know how this has to end, I want her around for a few more days. I want to experience more of her. But I’m afraid of what I’ll find within her. What if I start to like everything I’ve hated? I worked too hard and nursed my hatred for too long to let that happen.

It doesn’t help that she’s trying to find similarities between us. She fails to see that her scars aren’t mine. They’re hidden in private places, not showcased for the world to see. She doesn’t have to wear a leather jacket in the summer heat to keep people from openly staring at her. She may think she understands me, but she has no idea.

The knife on my hip calls to me. I could cut her up and help her understand. Slice her face so she can feel a shred of the shame I’ve known my entire life. She’d hate who looks back at her in the mirror. Like I do.

I pull the knife from its sheath and shift onto my side. Bringing myself closer to her body, I hold the blade so that it hovers just above her pale skin. I mimic dragging it down her arm and creating a red fissure that would take time to heal. But that flesh would never be as it is now. Pure. Unblemished. A blank canvas. It would become like mine. Ugly. Destroyed. Disgusting. I brush the hair from her face and press the knife against her cheek. The soft skin sinks beneath the weight, and it would only take a little more pressure to bring a line of blood to the surface.

But I can’t.

I slide the knife into its sheath and grit my teeth. Why can’t I do this?

I reach out and rub my hand down her side, feeling her in ways she won’t allow when she’s awake. Well, she would have allowed it if she hadn’t discovered the acorns.

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