A Lovely Obsession: The Complete Debt of Passion Duet Read online

  The Debt of Passion Duet

  Copyright © 2020 by June Publishing

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Editing by Helayna Trask with Polished Perfection

  Cover design by HarleyQuinn Zaler

  Book design by Inkstain Design Studio

  My guardian angel is a devil in disguise.

  He hates me. He protects me.

  He watches me.

  My stalker is obsessed with keeping me safe. He calls me his prettiest debt.

  An assassin in the notorious Bullet gang, he uses his empire to control my life. Everything I know is a lie.

  What started as a debt turned into something more. What started as regret turned into obsession. Ambition is his muse and I am his conscience. Our past may bind us together, but his enemies will tear us apart.

  My guardian angel is a devil in disguise.

  He hates me. He protects me.

  And I think I love him.

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Acknowledgements

  To all the badass ladies that stay lowkey as hell and fill their souls with positivity and kindness. For the women that find peace in their damage. For the girls that give grace. To the sisters unafraid to lose chairs at their table and eat alone.

  To all the women who are unapologetically themselves, this is for you.

  HUNTER

  Eighteen Years Ago...

  Everything hurts. My stomach is empty and sloshing around from the water Mom gave me three hours ago. I can feel how hungry I am.

  The stained mattress on my floor has coiled wires poking at my back. It’s dark. I’m not sure Mom paid the electricity bill this month. She has other debts that take priority.

  But I’m not scared.

  I’m not sure how long I’ve been forgotten. Years, maybe? Maybe since I was born. I guess it’s hard to remember your son when you have needles and meth to fill your time.

  Mom has friends over. Loud friends that like to groan and moan. Forest doesn’t know. He’s too high. The cracks in our walls tell their secrets.

  One of them is angry. Really, really angry.

  I look out the window in my room and pray. Mom once told me God wasn’t real. She said he was for people with money. So I pray in secret.

  I beg for a way out.

  Forest knows—I can hear him now.

  The room is loud. So, so loud.

  I fall asleep to the familiar lullaby of screams.

  ROE

  Current Day

  My heels wobbled on the slippery tile in Nicole Knight’s kitchen. Bodies were herded together, crashing into one another with flirty looks and lingering stares. I had a buzz in my bones, a tingling forgetfulness that tempted my good sense.

  To some, it was a house party. To me, it was a rare escape.

  “Have another drink, Roe,” Nicole said while jabbing a dirty shot glass in my face. I’d seen at least a dozen of my classmates wrap their chapsticked tobacco lips around that very rim. I wasn’t in the spirit to catch mono, but the clear liquid inside of it tantalized me.

  I wasn’t much of a partier. Wasn’t much of an extrovert, either. But tonight—just for tonight—I needed to pretend to be someone else for a bit. Someone that didn’t strategically know every danger in the room.

  “I should stop,” I replied. I had already devoured enough tequila to make my body chatter, and my cotton mouth pout was begging me to drink some water.

  Nicole frowned. She was my friend of the month. Tragically beautiful, she had bright blond hair and sparkling jade eyes that seemed to spill with sad mischief. She moved here two months ago, which meant she hadn’t been around long enough to know what I was about.

  “Come on, you wanted to forget that asshole, drink up!” she encouraged, pressing the cool glass to my lips. I took it from her and swallowed, letting the scorching hot liquid land on my tongue before shooting it down my throat.

  Some onlookers cheered. Bad decisions were more palatable when you had good company.

  “How are you doing, girl?” Nicole asked while draping her slender arm around my shoulder. She smelled unmistakably of cheap beer and cotton candy body spray, but she was noticeably sober. I realized a couple of weeks ago that she liked to host the parties, not become them.

  “I’m fine,” I lied, the words like ash on my tongue. That expression was getting on my nerves. It was one of those lies everyone could see through, like a sheer blanket you wrapped around yourself before bracing for a blizzard. But it wasn’t my recent breakup that had me out of sorts.

  “Are you sure?” she asked. “You seem so sad tonight. It’s a fucking party! Liven up!” Nicole fist-pumped the air just as a guy bumped into her, rocking us both as he staggered to the living room. She rolled her eyes at him when he didn’t apologize, before turning her attention to me. “I didn’t even think you liked Joel that much. I mean, you broke up with him, right?”

  Joel was my ex. He was nice but vacant, and he worked perfectly for what I needed. He smoked pot on the weekends and liked to play video games. We lasted longer than most of my relationships, mostly because he seemed more concerned with getting high than asking questions. But of course, it didn’t last.

  Joel started to get too close. He started to want to know about my likes, dislikes, past, present, and if I could imagine a future with him.

  So naturally, I ran.

  “I know. I just wasn’t expecting him to move on so quickly,” I replied, the lie easily rolling off my lips. If I were being honest, I wasn’t drinking myself into oblivion because of Joel, but Nicole didn’t need to know that. I’d rather she think I was heartbroken than know what was really bothering me. The truth wasn’t as easy to swallow.

  Joel spent all week fucking through anything with a pussy, and any normal girl who could actually fall in love would feel devastated about that, but not me.

  I wasn’t healthy. I devoured affections and spun them into sophisticated insecurities, ending them without a care. I was a serial dater. A clingy friend that kept things surface l
evel, then fled. There was a certain high I felt when getting to know someone. I was obsessed with hoarding personalities and hyper-focusing on the intricate tics of others to avoid my own. I liked making friends. I liked kissing random boys. It was sticking around that I struggled with. I was running out of people to fall for.

  “You know what they say,” Nicole began. “The best way to get over an ex is to get under someone else.” She knocked my hip with hers and giggled. I doubted she had ever gotten under anyone. Nicole might’ve liked to host parties to piss off her parents, but she wasn’t actually as rebellious as she claimed to be. It was another one of those quirks I’d picked up on.

  “I’m tired of the dating pool at Mountain Prep,” I argued. “It’s a bunch of fumbling boys that use your vagina like a fleshlight before asking, ‘Did you come?’” My chuckles filled the room as Nicole gaped at me. Our school was nestled in suburban utopia just outside of Denver, where the middle class thrived and every day at school felt like a reality TV show. People liked to create drama so their small town boredom was more palatable.

  Nicole laughed as she peered around the room, assessing the growing crowd in her house. “I don’t know, I heard Chris is good in bed,” she offered, nodding at the preppy quarterback currently hitting a Juul and blowing smoke in some poor girl’s face. Oh yes, I knew Chris very well.

  I shrugged, thinking back to our fumbling romp in the janitor’s closet at school. In Chris’s defense, it was standing room only, but our brief, messy moment was not worth remembering. “His dick is nice, but he’s got no rhythm. It was like fucking someone possessed.”

  Nicole snorted, her eyes wide in shock. “You’ve slept with him?” she wheezed while looking at me. I saw the curiosity in her eyes. Our friendship was still fairly new. She didn’t know just how reckless I was, but she’d soon realize that the rumors were true.

  I’d developed quite a reputation over the years. Many called me a slut, and I guess they were right. I didn’t think it was anything to be ashamed of. Those who were crueler liked to pick apart my alienation, blaming every indiscretion on my daddy issues. They just simplified deeper problems they knew nothing about. My body was a vessel for control. My heart was a rabid beast out to prove something. I cracked my soul wide open and watched as the world slipped on the oil that fell out.

  “Yep,” I replied, searching the counters for more booze. I’d need more liquid forgetfulness if this conversation dug deeper into my impulsive proclivities.

  “Well then, maybe we should find you a college guy, someone that knows how to use his dick. My cousin attends Denver University. He could probably get us into a party.”

  I smiled at her determination but had zero desire to go. I had this odd contradiction warring within my soul. I hated being alone as much as I hated being around people. Parties weren’t really my thing. Crowds made me anxious. But I was doing the whole teenage thing, drinking cheap tequila and laughing at all the right times. I’d even worn my tightest clothes and a shirt that showed off my toned stomach. There was a checklist of high school experiences, and I was ticking all the boxes tonight.

  “Oh shit. What’s he doing here?” Nicole asked, nodding toward the hallway. I turned my head and rolled my eyes at the sight before me. Joel, with his smirking face and punk rock style, was strolling our way. I wanted to skip the awkward breakup stage and go back to just hanging out without expectations. Was it really so hard to be friends after you’ve sucked someone’s dick?

  “You look good, Roe,” he greeted over the loud music.

  Joel hovered over me, and I could practically taste the smoke on his skin. Bouncing in his Converse sneakers, he looked down at me. He was lean and smelled like pot, his jet black hair curled at the ends, kissing the tips of his ears. He sunk his teeth into his bottom lip as those sweeping cobalt eyes looked me up and down.

  “Well, you look like shit,” I replied with a wink. I tried not to lean too much into the flattery of knowing he still thought of me. I didn’t want to lead him on, but validation was a drug and I was an addict. I was a bunch of things, actually.

  “You going to stop hiding from me?” he asked.

  “Nope,” I replied quickly. I never went back for seconds. Once I was done, I was motherfucking done. “I’m sure you can find someone here willing to suck your cock.”

  He braced his hand on the countertop beside me and leaned in, his minty breath feathering over me as I stared down at his chest. He was wearing a gamer T-shirt boasting one of his favorite characters. He used to get so excited when he explained his nerdy games to me. I liked that about him. There was a simplicity about Joel that I connected with. There wasn’t much to learn about him because he wasn’t particularly complex. We had chemistry. He was easy to please. But I didn’t love the guy. I was a serial dater.

  “Look at me, Rowboat,” he said. That nickname made me quiver.

  I let out a slow exhale and looked up at Joel, following his command out of boredom, not respect. Swarms of onlookers crowded closer, eyeing us with curiosity and pity. “We had fun, didn’t we?” he asked.

  “We did,” I agreed. There was no denying that Joel was fun to pass the time with.

  “What happened?” he asked, making me frown. How could I possibly explain to him that the idea of liking someone scared the shit out of me? I was drawn to validation like a moth to a flame. I thrived on lingering looks and flirty touches. I blossomed in blissful orgasms and heady moans. But I clung to surface level relationships because they were easy. Anything deeper was like opening a wound. I just wasn’t capable of doing anything that wasn’t...easy.

  “I just wasn’t feeling it anymore,” I deadpanned while glancing over his shoulder at the growing crowd.

  “I figured you needed space, but it’s been a week. I really fucking cared about you,” he said, as if he were annoyed with himself for having such trivial feelings about me. “We can work through this.”

  Letting out a huff, I braced both palms against his chest and pushed him away. This was exactly what I wanted to avoid. “While you were giving me space, you fucked the entire senior class,” I argued, cocking my head to the side. He staggered back, his mouth dropped open in surprise. He had to have known this was coming. What did he expect? “I’m not interested. Go find someone else.”

  Instead of reacting how I’d expected him to, he smiled. “You’re jealous.”

  “I’m done with this conversation.”

  His smile quickly fell, and his eyes turned cold. “So I guess it’s true what they say,” he replied, straightening his spine.

  “Oh?” I feigned ignorance. “And what exactly do they say?”

  “You’re a tease. The worst fucking tease. You lead people on and drop them like it’s nothing.”

  His words stung, but they weren’t wrong.

  “Last I checked, we fucked like rabbits,” I offered. I was no fucking tease. I didn’t lead guys on. If I wanted to fuck, I made my intentions known. I didn’t like fluttering around the topic of sex.

  He looked down at me with a sneer. “Yeah, Roe. We fucked. I fucked you hard. I ate that pussy like it was my last meal and claimed your ass while you screamed my name.” His voice rang out through Nicole’s house, echoing off the walls and forcing a ripple of attention to land on me. Joel was making a scene. Some stared and snickered. A few girls blushed. “You might not be a tease with your body, but you sure as hell tease with your heart.”

  With those parting words, he turned on his heels and left me standing in shock, feeling like the damaged goods he accused me of being.

  “Fuck you, asshole!” Nicole screamed at his back like the devoted friend she wanted to be. “What a dick! I can’t believe you dated that guy.”

  I smiled before turning to her, no longer feeling in the partying mood. “He was good in bed, though,” I chuckled, though my humor felt empty.

  Nicole shook her head and started reaching for more bottles of tequila. “We need to get you drunk. The nerve of that guy,” she s
aid as I glanced at my watch. It was almost midnight, which meant that Uncle Mack would end his shift at the shipping yard and haul his ass up here and drag me home. I’m pretty sure he had a tracker on my phone. As if on cue, my phone pinged, indicating a message from him.

  Uncle Mack: I’m on my way. You better be outside waiting for me or I’ll call the cops and shut down whatever party you’re at.

  I smiled to myself before pocketing my cell. I knew with complete certainty that he would absolutely drag me out of here if I didn’t stumble onto the lawn in exactly sixty seconds. “I got to go,” I said to Nicole.

  She pouted beautifully, her round face falling at my words. “You’re leaving? It’s barely midnight!”

  “Yeah, my uncle is on his way. He’s threatening to break the party up if I don’t go. Sorry.” I couldn’t have timed his overprotectiveness better. I had no desire to stay here much longer but was glad to make an appearance and play the part. Now everyone could go home and gossip about how Roe Palmer was the town slut. I welcomed it with open arms, burrowing the truth deep in my chest.

  At least it was better than what they said back in New York:

  Roe Palmer is the daughter of that crazy woman.

  Nicole wrapped me in an Oscar-worthy drunk girl hug, swaying both of our bodies as she squealed her goodbyes. “Okay, text me tomorrow! We can plot your revenge on Joel,” she called as I pulled away and started pushing through the crowd and outside.

  Uncle Mack wasn’t here yet. I didn’t hear the familiar roar of his Camaro or feel his broody, pissed-off stare on my back. I walked over to the tree line, giggling to myself at the thought of his impending lecture. My heels sunk into the lawn with every step; the ground was soft from last night’s rain, and cold mud splattered on my bare legs. I found a tall tree and braced my back against the trunk. Staring up at the night sky, I counted exhales until my uncle arrived.

  “Tired of the party, too?” a warm voice asked to my left. I snapped my head in the direction of the voice and flinched when I saw a figure leaning against another tree and staring at me. He wore a hoodie and had his arms folded over his chest. I couldn’t make out any of his features, but he carried himself like someone who had seen the world and didn’t like what he found. He had proud shoulders and long legs that were rooted to the grass, similar to the tree he was leaning against. I could feel his eyes on me, though I couldn’t see them. Even in my drunken haze, I sensed his energy. It was like drinking whiskey and letting it burn you from the inside out.