Breaking Hailey (Shadows of Obsession Book 1)

Nash navigates the winding roads, steering us further away from Lakeside, and I can’t stop stealing glances at his tattooed hand gripping the steering wheel at twelve o’clock. There’s something sensual about the combination of his inked skin, gold signet ring and the old car itself.

There’s something sensual about him, period.

Hot and cold, close and far, rude and nice.

He keeps me on my toes, always second-guessing his next move. After our kiss on stage I thought he’d seek me out again, but he stayed away, making me run around in circles. Our chemistry is undeniable. I wasn’t acting when I parted my lips, letting him deepen the kiss. I wasn’t acting when my whole body trembled in anticipation of something more, I wasn’t pretending to love every second.

I did… and I was certain he did, too.

I want him close. I want his time, attention, and kisses. I want to check if his lips are as soft as I remember, if he’d be any different off stage. Would he weave his fingers in my hair or grip my nape again? Or maybe he’d hold my jaw like he did when I rolled my eyes…

Was the urgent passion a one-off? Would he be slow and careful next time or—

No. He’d kiss me like he owns me. A deep, erotic battle. He’d pin me against the wall or clamp me in his lap. Close. Trapped.

My head hits the headrest. I’m getting worked up thinking about his touch, my panties uncomfortably damp. The thrill of not knowing whether he finds me attractive, whether he’s interested, elevates my desire.

I glance at him again. He’s focused on the road, seemingly relaxed, but it’s a façade. Underneath, he’s guarded, tense, ready for action.

Every time I see him, I get this feeling he doesn’t belong in college. He’s too powerful. Too perceptive, calculating, and ominous… like he’s seen gore beyond my imagination.

I suppose that’s true.

Chloe asked around after I told her Nash took me into town for the diary. She found out he’s an army brat as well as being ex-army himself.

That explains his posture and the sense of superiority he emanates. Though recently, I’ve wondered whether it’s superiority or a higher purpose: a sense of duty exuded by most army men.

I would know. My father served for years before he joined the police force.

While they’re alike, Nash is… more. He’s unlike anything I experienced in the life I remember. He makes me feel out of place and like I belong. Scared and safe. My fight or flight response hovers at eleven when he’s close. One moment I trust him, the next I want to run.

I can’t keep up with my own head, so instead of picking a lane, I blame my fragile mind for its inability to decipher Nash. Dr. Phillips said there should be no lasting brain damage but he could be wrong.

Or maybe he lied.

Seems that’s how things work these days. Lies, lies, and more lies. My shoulders tense as Dad’s outburst this morning comes back to shit all over my good mood.

“You promised you’d keep in touch, Hailey. That’s not optional! I need to know you’re safe. You check in with me every day!”

“You disabled the cameras, didn’t you?” I ask Nash, banishing Dad from my thoughts. “You bribed the janitor?”

“The janitor?” He cocks an eyebrow.

“Well, I figure there’s a room full of monitors somewhere and the janitor keeps an eye on everyone, right?”

“No one’s watching, Hailey.” His jaw ticks as he grinds his teeth in small circles. It’s not a smile, that twitch on his lips. Not even a promise of one. Quite the opposite. “The recordings are stored on a hard drive in case something happens.”

“Oh… okay. So how did you do it?”

“I told you, the less you know, the better.”

That’s the same thing Dad told me when I asked why he’s so paranoid about someone listening in to our conversations.

“Seems to be the general consensus today,” I mumble, crossing my hands over my chest.

“Lose the attitude. Pouting doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m tired of being dismissed by everyone, so be a good boy and let me pout in peace.”

He grips the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles blanching more with every passing second. My back straightens. The way his nostrils flare, like he’s trying his hardest not to lash out, has me bracing for another battle of wits.

“You’re a piece of work, Hailey,” he clips, pushing an exasperated puff past his lips. “Fine. If you must know, I have a useful friend. He’s been hacking for years. Happy?”

Biting back my smile proves useless. Instead of another rude comment, he’s settled for the truth.

It’s a small victory, but I’m winning for the first time since I woke up in hospital. My mouth splits into a grin, a fraction of the heaviness lifting off my shoulders.

“Happy.”

Nash doesn’t smile, but his features soften a little when he looks at me. “Good. Now tell me what you want for breakfast.”

“I already ate breakfast.”

“No, you had three bites of an apple. That’s not breakfast. You like pancakes? I know a decent pancake place.”

“Might not be a good idea. Most of the professors live in town. If someone sees me, they’ll report back to the dean.”

“Fair point. That leaves the drive-thru; you’ll have to make do with burgers and fries.”

He makes a left, the engine growling when he drops the pedal, flying down a deserted road toward the small town. Soon enough, we order food, and after another much shorter ride, Nash turns into a woodland road, throwing the car into park once we’re hidden from the main road.

He cracks the window open, letting in the scent of wet undergrowth, trees, and mud. The rustle of leaves dancing on the wind breaches the silence. The temperature inside drops a few degrees, skittering chills down my arms.

And then it hits me.

We’re alone in the middle of nowhere.

I don’t know why the sudden fear, but it accelerates out of proportion. My hands start shaking. The trees loom closer, their branches reaching out like long, dead fingers, and my stomach somersaults.

I twitch toward the door handle, the urge to flee growing with every passing second, flight response kicking in so hard it knocks the wind out of my chest.

I turn to Nash, desperate for confirmation that we’re not here so he can hurt me, but an intense blue stare yanks the steady ground from beneath my feet.

His irises are dark like a starless sky, not blue…

His hair is dark, not blond…

There’s a subtle change in the air. A subtle change in our surroundings. Tension fills the space, upping the anxious dread prickling my temples. My pulse quickens along with my breathing when the memory fully pulls me under.

“What’s wrong?” Alex asks.

We’re in a car. It’s newer than Nash’s Pontiac, its sleek interior oozing the kind of luxury a cop can’t afford. There’s urgency in his moves as he lifts his ass off the plush seat, simultaneously yanking his unzipped jeans down to his mid-thighs in one smooth tug.

His cock springs out. Long, hard, the head red and leaking precum as it hits his white-t-shirt-clad stomach.

“We don’t have much time,” he coaxes, reaching over to grip my neck. “Come on, get to work. I need to leave soon.”

I look beyond his face, at the forest outside, nothing but tall trees within sight. The tension between us thickens further, so palpable it could be cut with a knife.

I don’t say a word. I don’t question him as he leans in, closing the distance between us. Why don’t I question him?

Why am I so… numb?

“A little nervous today?”

With visible impatience, he stamps an impatient kiss on my lips, before forcing his tongue into my mouth. The world narrows to the sensation of that kiss. It’s not soft or delicate, not eager or passionate. It’s forced. Like something he’s suffering through to get what he wants.

And apparently, what he wants is a blowjob.

With his free hand, he grips mine, moves it onto his lap and wraps my fingers around his stiff shaft, squeezing hard. Up and down, up and down… he jerks himself off with my hand, groaning into my mouth, the kiss becoming sloppy, wet, and off-putting.

I don’t want this.

Everything inside me screams run. It begs me to bite him and dart out of the car, but I’m not moving. I kiss him back, even though my face is moist with his saliva. I jerk him off, guided by his hand, every move rough and fast, even though I want to squeeze his balls until they pop like balloons.

I want him doubling over in pain. I want his screams, his pleas. I want him to beg me not to cut his dick off with the first sharp thing I find.

I don’t do any of that. I keep working his length, my thumb wet with impatient precum leaking from the tip.

Two different consciousnesses occupy my headspace.

One’s terrified, one’s resigned.

The gentle rustle of trees fades into the background, covered by my thunderous heart and Alex’s urgent grunts.

I don’t know if my pulse is hummingbirding now or in the past, but it hurts. Everything hurts. My chest, my heart, my lungs.

Alex breaks the kiss and leans back, shoving my head down hard. My lips stop a breath from his cock.

“Go on, Hailey, open up. It’ll be quick. I’m almost ready to blow.”

I clamp my jaw shut so hard my teeth start cracking but somehow my lips fall open anyway. The musky smell of him invades my senses and the salty taste dances across my tongue.

I brace against him, clawing, kicking, screaming but… only in my head. Only in the present.

Back then, I’m calm. Numb.

I suck him off even though my teeth are clenched so hard the blood should be spraying from his deflating cock. The blend between now and then is maddening. Like I’m balancing on the edge, swaying between past and present.

“Shh, you’re okay.” Nash’s voice breaks through.

A soft whisper coming from far away at first. His voice gains volume and strength with every word he speaks, pulling me out of the memory.

“Stop fighting, Hailey, I won’t hurt you.”

The past fades away. I blink, and Alex is gone. His cock’s not in my mouth. His hand’s not on my head.

The heat of Nash’s body beneath me grounds me on the right side of the line. In the present. With him. Away from Alex.

We’re not inside the car… we’re on the damp forest floor. I’m cradled in his lap, his hands holding me flush against his chest.

I guess I ran. I kicked, screamed, and fought, if the three long, red lines marking Nash’s cheek are any hint. He doesn’t have to tell me I scratched him in the frenzy.

“I’m sorry…” I whisper, my voice breaking, throat dry as if I screamed for hours. Lifting a trembling hand, I gently brush my fingertips over the angry marks. “I didn’t mean to, I—”

“You’re not safe alone,” he interrupts, gripping me like a straitjacket. He’s angry, but also… worried. “Your memories come back worse every time, don’t they? What did you see?”

My cheeks burn bright, shame spilling all over my neck and chest. I shift my concentration to a nearby fern, suddenly interested in the world’s flora. The Pontiac is parked a fair distance away, the doors on both sides wide open.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

He gently tilts my chin back toward him, a dark look crossing his face. “You jumped out and ran, screaming no on repeat. You don’t have to tell me…” he grinds out like it costs him a lot to say it, “but if you want to, I’ll listen.”

“Thank you. I’m really sorry about your face.”

“I’d rather have you hurt me than yourself.” He brushes his fingertips along my jaw. “Come on, you’re freezing.” He guides me back to the car, closing the door behind me, then takes the driver’s seat and holds out a water bottle. “Drink. It’ll help.”

It does, washing away the lingering taste of panic and the musky, salty taste of Alex’s cock. Nash pulls off his hoodie, ignoring me when I say I’m not cold.

“I decide if you’re warm enough.” He pushes it over my head, dressing me like a child. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

“I’m not. You’re here.”

“I mean at all, Hailey. You shouldn’t be alone at all. You don’t know when your memories will rush back—and you go under so deep you lose control. You don’t know what you’re doing when the flashbacks hit.”

What can I say? He’s right. I clearly don’t know what the hell is happening with me when I lose myself in the past. I could fall down the stairs, like he already suggested, or jump out a window trying to get away from Alex.

But realistically, how many more memories could hit this hard? They’re not all so intense. I had one earlier this week. I lost a few minutes of class while I grappled with the past but I stayed seated. One second the professor was greeting everyone and the next there was a script on my desk. I sat still, while Alex paced my room, pissed off. I didn’t flee, so not every memory gets me moving.

He screamed that I was irresponsible and needy. That I was childish for wanting to spend time with him while he had to work the case. I tried to stay in the memory as long as possible to hear about whatever he was working on, but it dissolved before more words were spoken.

Nash waits, giving me space to process the last few minutes. He unwraps a burger, handing it over in silence, and, knowing he won’t take no for an answer, I take a bite, chewing slowly like it’s an old shoe. It doesn’t tase of anything.

“I’ll be okay,” I finally say, swallowing the bite. “I’ve had other flashbacks since the one at the lake and I’m fine.”

He shifts in his seat, angling his body toward me. “Fine. You won’t tell me what you remembered, and I respect that, but you have to give me something, Hailey. Why did you want to get away from Lakeside?”

I let out a heavy sigh. “I had a fight with my dad. He was upset I didn’t check in last night. He’s never been like this, and I don’t understand why he’s suddenly hidden me away.” I take another bite of the burger. “The official story is that I’m healing, but that’s a lie. I just can’t piece together why he’s lying and why I’m off the grid.”

“Nothing in your memories explains that?”

“Not yet.” I rewrap the burger. My stomach’s rebelling against food and Nash isn’t interested in his share either. “I don’t remember much. I figured out Alex works with my dad and that we were… are…” I frown, unsure. “Dating, I think. Though given what I remember, I don’t know why. He—” I apply the brakes.

Not because I’m afraid of sharing things with Nash. There’s not much he can do with the information, but it’s fucking embarrassing that I clung to a man who clearly had another woman on the side, loved her, and used me for sexual favors.

All I’m missing is a memory of him raping me…

God, I hope there isn’t one. I want good memories. The sexy ones. I want to remember sweet kisses, cuddles and breathless nights. I sure hope we had some good times, too.

“He what?” Nash presses himself closer to the middle of the car. “What did he do?”

Distracted by his closeness, I blank out the question. My heart beats faster and my mind fills with thoughts of Nash bridging what little gap remains between us.

I just saw Alex do the same, but the thought of having Nash close isn’t scary. It’s appealing. I’ve wanted him close since the moment we met, and since the kiss that need has grown out of proportion. The hunger leaves me breathless as the silence between us stretches, charged with an electric tension. My pulse races, each heartbeat louder than the last.

Nash shifts again, drawing in, his movements deliberate and slow, giving me ample time to break this trance.

I won’t.

I’m tethered to him by an invisible force, drawn like a moth to a flame.

He lifts his hand, brushing a stray hair behind my ear, his touch featherlight, so intimate it sends a jolt of electricity down my spine. My eyes flutter closed for a second and when I open them, his hot gaze falls to my mouth.

Without thinking, I bite my lower lip, painfully aware of the blush heating my face.

The car feels smaller and smaller as the space between us disappears inch by inch. His warm breath fans my skin, the gentle roughness of his short stubble catches my cheek and… he’s kissing me.

It’s soft and cautious, slow and gentle. Not at all what I thought it’d be. So different to our stage kiss.

His tongue glides along my lips, begging for more. Shockwaves run across my nerve endings when I let him in with a gasp and that sound annihilates his inhibitions, turning the gentle kiss into a battle of want.

His fingers find the side of my face while his tongue explores my mouth and he’s drawing me closer.

Closer, closer, closer.

“Hailey?”

My name cuts through the haze, snapping me back to reality for the second time today.

He’s not close. He’s not kissing me. He’s still in his seat, a coffee cup halfway to those full, tempting lips. His dark eyes, framed by a frown, search mine with a hint of worry.

“Another one?” he asks.

“Um… no, I… I zoned out.”

My blood runs a fever from the intense embarrassment. I’m sure he can tell I’ve been daydreaming. My face is so hot I’m surprised I’ve not caught on fire.

“What were you thinking about?” he coaxes, a small smirk playing across those full lips I wish were really on mine. “You’re blushing, Hailey.”

I tug the strands of his hoodie. “I’m warm.”

This time a full-blown, knowing smile twists his mouth. It’s a rare sight. He’s always so guarded…

I shamelessly stare at the twinkle of joy in his brown irises.

“Are you going to the party next week?” I deflect his attention from my pink cheeks. “Same place as last time but there’s supposed to be a big bonfire.”

“Why are you going? You told Chloe it’s not your scene.”

“It isn’t but she’s persuasive and… I’m tired of spending every evening alone, obsessing over the past, my dad, and the lies.” I steal a few cold fries from his box, chewing slowly.

“You haven’t answered my question, Hailey.”

I don’t point out that he completely ignored mine. Maybe he misunderstood, thinking I wanted us to go together, and he’s letting me down easy.

“What did Alex do that makes you wonder why you were with him?”

I tense up, recalling Alex talking about his other girl. I don’t want to admit it aloud, but the words spill out anyway.

“He was seeing someone else while he was with me.”

“You knew he was cheating, and you stayed with him?”

The accusation makes me shrink back on myself. “I don’t know. I don’t remember what happened after I found out. I just remember him saying how special she is.” I pop another fry into my mouth, staring out the window. “I thought about it a lot and I don’t blame him.”

“What? Why the hell not?” He reaches out, curling one finger under my chin to turn my head his way, his eyes boring into mine. “Tell me you don’t blame yourself.”

“No, it’s not that. I blame the rope that snapped and left scars all up my thigh. The barbed wire I fell into, the saw I cut my hand open on.” I chuckle without humor. “I guess my clumsiness is on me.”

“You think he cheated because of your scars?”

“I’m covered in them, Nash. Even more now, since the accident. It’s not a pretty sight, believe me.” Sitting up straight, I grab the seatbelt. “We should head back.”

“Hailey, look at me.”

I let out a breath, forcing my frown into a smile. “I’m fine. His loss, right?”

“You’ll realize how true that is when you believe it.”

You’ll realize how wrong you are if you ever see my scars.Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.