Illicit Obsession

The day my stepsister died she took my heart with her.

Now, I’m a shell of a man, a cold-hearted monster. Imagine my surprise when the love of my life shows up at Whitmore University alive and well.

I’m ready to make her pay for destroying me. This isn’t a fairy tale, and I’m sure as hell no knight in shining armor. I have no problem dragging her into my dark world along with me.

But when I dig for the truth about that fateful day, I can no longer deny my feelings about the only girl I’ve ever loved. And just as I vowed to destroy her, I vow to protect her even if it costs me my life.

Jagger

“What the hell is this?” I blinked rapidly, trying to clear the haze from my eyes. “Where am I?”

Despite the struggle against my restraints, it took me a few seconds to realize that I wasn’t going anywhere due to the tightness of the ropes. I frantically searched around the room in an attempt to figure out where I was.

A dark chuckle bounced off the cement floor and walls. “Don’t worry, Jagger Whitlock, it’s all a part of the plan,” the disguised voice said. He peered at me through the holes in the skull mask as he paced a circle around my chair. I recognized him from the society invitation  video. Fuck, what the hell did I do?

“What do you want?” Despite the chilly air against my bare chest, beads of sweat formed on my forehead. The bastards knocked me out, drug me out of the field house, and tied me to a chair. Apparently, it would have been too much for them to grab some sweatpants for me. Instead, I shivered in nothing more than my boxer briefs. I had no idea who I’d pissed off, but I mentally skipped down that long list.

“You’re one of the chosen. Try to relax and enjoy the ride.” The fucker laughed even more.

My blood boiled in my veins. The familiar feeling of fury and hatred reawakened the beast inside me.

The masked and cloaked person didn’t speak, but I felt the power bubbling beneath his skin. He might be crazier than I was. I wasn’t sure if it was a good or a bad thing.

I attempted to control my breathing, but I had no fucking clue who was behind the mask and had taken me prisoner. If I bargained for my freedom, it would tickle his ego, and I would leave wherever I was in one piece.

“A brotherhood will fight for each other, but only if they have something on the line. Something to lose. In your case, you want a pro football career. I can make that dream come true, but why should I if you have no skin in the game?”

I blanched at him. “You can get me a pro ball contract?” A sense of foreboding enveloped me. This wasn’t good. Whoever was talking to me was fucking with my head, and I strongly suspected I knew who it was. Shit. This is bad. Real bad. Until I found his weak spot, I had to play his sick game.

“If you can get me a deal with the Eagles, I’ll give you my damn soul.” Even though I realized it wouldn’t serve me well, I gave him a disbelieving snort. “What are you, the devil’s right hand?” What he didn’t know was that I was the devil’s left hand. Maybe we could work together and solve a big problem I had that refused to leave me alone.

The figure stopped in front of me and bent over, the nose of his skull mask a mere inch from mine. “I can make it happen, Jagger Whitlock, but what will you give me in exchange? I have no use for a wasted, dark soul like yours.” He straightened, staring a hole right through me.