His Possession (Obsession Book 2) by Anna Bloom

Author:Anna Bloom [Bloom, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-11-27T18:30:00+00:00

Sophia

I have calls to make.

First to my counsellor at the centre. It isn’t a great conversation but she agrees to my plan.

Then to Charlie. I tell her I’m stepping back, that I need more time. She tells me I’m a fool.

Third to Ted Stein. Most of what he says doesn’t need repeating.

Fourth to Johnny. I tell him it’s over; that I will never play our games again. I should have told him this the day I came out of rehab. I should have stuck to it. That’s on me. Not him.

Fifth to Sarah, it’s just an answerphone, a voice not Sarah’s telling me to leave a message. So, I do, I tell her what’s happened and that I hope I have the strength to clean it all away.

My first relapse and the fallout has been spectacular. This time though I haven’t ended up in rehab. Haven’t nearly ended my life with the cut of a blade in sheer desperation. I know what the difference is between this time and last. Blake. He’s saved me just like he always said he would.

I’d run away from him, angry and burned, but I’d known in my heart he’d find me and save me.

Now we are uncovering our secrets one slow step at a time.

"Here." He tugs on my hand as we stand outside the condo. Police tape flutters across the doors as if someone has died inside. I guess in a way there has been a demise—my career. Davies has called. He wasn’t on my own call list but I’m on his. The press has the story of my relapse, where from, no one knows, but it’s out there, circulating and he thinks it will break. Davies doesn’t know how it’s going to spin. I’ve got a pretty good idea.

I shiver and Blake reaches out his other hand, his fingers tightly closed over a small object. "What is it?" I ask.

When he turns his hand palm up, there settled on the rough skin is the GPS bracelet I’d flung onto a bedroom floor, five years before. The bracelet that connected him and I.

The bracelet I remember searching for on my wrist only the previous night.

Lifting an eyebrow, I quiz him with a glance. "I thought you weren’t leaving my side." That feels good to say and a faint smile curves on my lips—my head still pounds with every move I make so I’m not going to be performing celebratory cartwheels at this new development—not yet at least.

"I’m not," his eyes burn with stomach flipping intensity. "but you have a remarkable skill at escaping me."

"I’m not running again."

"Sure." He chuckles a little and despite my banging headache, and the remnant of the drugs in my system pulling me on the mother of all downers, I chuckle too.

"I’m going to call Sloane and get him to step up his investigation into the letters."

"Who’s Sloane?"

"Uh, Sloane gets me jobs when I need them, but he’s very good at ferreting out information." He grabs my hand and it’s electric.

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