Page 112 of Obsession (Dark Revenge)
Alison wasn’t the one who threw eggs at me. It was her goons and girlfriends who took pleasure in such antics. She, on the other hand, reveled in watching my humiliation, relishing the sight of me brought to my lowest point. My birthday was a day I despised, not just because of her torment, but also because it served as a stark reminder that I was still alive, trapped in this wretched existence. But honestly, I preferred the egg-throwing to the monstrous presence I knew awaited me at home, poised to make my day even more unbearable.
“Don’t you want to give him a present too?” one of Alison’s friends asked, extending an egg toward her.
I let out a muffled yell from behind the gag and tried to wriggle free from the ropes that securely held me in place. We were concealed from view behind the school building, where I had unwittingly become their practice target.
Alison approached and took the egg, scrutinizing it thoughtfully, as if planning her next move. She turned her attention to me, flashing that familiar wicked grin before hurling the egg in my direction. I closed my eyes, bracing for impact, but instead of the expected collision with my body, I heard it smash against the wall beside me.
Turning to face Alison and her friends, I was taken aback by her missed throw. We weren’t far apart, and she had appeared confident when she launched the egg.
“That was terrible, Ali!” one of her friends chuckled.
Alison shrugged, seemingly unbothered, likely because I was already smeared with egg.
“I guess my aim isn’t as great as I thought,” she admitted, as her friends handed her another egg.
Despite her apparent lack of enthusiasm, Alison’s friends encouraged her to try again. She hesitated, seemingly uncertain, but I knew her true apprehension lay in the fear of another embarrassing miss. She inspected the egg carefully before locking eyes with me. She approached me, her lips curving into a cruel smile, and when she stood directly in front of me, she raised her hand and smashed the egg into my hair, rubbing it in vigorously. Her companions laughed, while she maintained unwavering eye contact, revealing the malevolence lurking behind her piercing blue gaze.
“Happy birthday, doggy,” she taunted. She returned to her friends, who resumed their egg-throwing antics before leaving me bound and helpless.
Alison glanced downward, appearing almost remorseful, as I reminded her how she used to revel in “celebrating” my birthday. I hadn’t informed her of the significance of today’s date because I thought it was a special occasion, but rather to remind her that this day marked an important end. I didn’t careabout celebrating birthdays. My loathing for this day had never wavered.
However, I hadn’t expected Alison’s newfound enthusiasm for baking a cake. It wasn’t how I had envisioned the day unfolding. I had imagined her in a much different role, enduring the worst torments my imagination could conjure. Yet as she returned to her cooking and baking, a sense of intrigue began to stir within me. I decided to let her proceed with making the cake before determining how we would spend the remainder of the day.
Chapter 46
-Alison-
Jared remained silent as I worked, and I found solace in the absence of his usual taunts. Memories of how we used to spend his birthdays flooded my thoughts, and while it was a far cry from a joyful occasion for him, I couldn’t shake the nagging guilt that weighed on me. Today, he might desire to reenact the torment I had put him through on each of his past birthdays. It wouldn’t surprise me if that’s how he chose to spend this day. However, I decided that he should at least have a cake to mark the occasion, even if he chose to shove my face into it.
As I continued my preparations, a sense of sadness began to creep over me. Today marked the final day we would spend together, and I stole glances at Jared, aware that this would be the last time he would watch me like this. I knew I should feel relieved. I was finally going home. However, the thought of returning home no longer held the same appeal it once did. The excitement I should have felt was absent. Instead, theprospect of returning home was painful, as I knew I would have to maintain the façade, continue the act that defined my life. I couldn’t reveal how truly miserable I was.
Being Jared’s slave hadn’t been a delightful experience either. The ordeals he had subjected me to would haunt me for the rest of my days. However, there was one critical difference—here, I didn’t have to pretend. Jared knew the real me, and there was no need to hide from him.
“I’m making a chocolate cake,” I announced, placing breakfast in front of him. “I hope you like it.”
He shrugged, picked up a fork, and began to eat.
“Is that a yes or no?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I don’t eat a lot of sweets.”
“You don’t?” I questioned.
“I was never given any as a kid, and I don’t see much reason to eat them now,” he replied.
“Because they taste good, like cake,” I reminded him.
He shrugged again, displaying indifference, so I grabbed a plate with some chopped-up chocolate and extended it toward him.
“Try a piece,” I suggested.
“Why? Isn’t it going into the cake?”
“I have enough. Just give it a try.”
“I know what chocolate tastes like.”
“But have you ever eaten it just because you really love it or had a craving for it?” I inquired.
