DANGEROUS OBSESSION

13

LAUREN MOSS

The drive, for a while, was silent, and that alone was already making me feel sick.

“Are you okay?” Samuel asks.

“Yes,” I reply, omitting the truth. After all, they’re definitely not interested in my problems. Every time I need to have a conversation with either of my parents, it’s always an issue.

“Can you tell me a bit more about this company? That way I don’t say anything stupid,” I ask, and he smiles, handing me his iPad.

“The only one who might ask anything about the company is your father. No one else there will,” he says, and I smile.

“If that’s the case, I’m already feeling more at ease,” I say, sighing. My head is killing me. I haven’t slept at all these past days.

I spent hours digging up information about Blake and, well, here I am. I need to cut back on sleep if I don’t want to end up in jail.

Oh, Lauren… you’re so reckless.

“Where are the clothes?” I ask, placing his iPad back down, because I’m not going to be able to focus enough to read this and I’ve suddenly lost interest now that I know I won’t look stupid in front of anyone.

“In the back seat, there’s a bag with clothes,” he says, and I immediately unbuckle myself to climb into the back. After all, time is ticking.

He’s also tracking my father’s car using the GPS, so he’s speeding like a maniac to get there before him.

“I can stop somewhere if you want to feel more comfortable getting changed,” he offers, while I’m already kneeling behind his seat, pulling out the clothes.

“I trust you’re not a pervert, and from here you can’t see me anyway,” I say, and I see him laugh in the mirror.

“You can be sure of that,” he says, and I smile, undoing my uniform in the back. He’s focused on the road too, so there’s no problem at all.

I just want to get this over with as soon as possible.

I take the uniform off and immediately put on the tailored pants in the bag. They’re black, and surprisingly, they fit.

I thought they were something used on some mission or whatever and someone just left them here. I then put on the black top as well—tight, and that’s it.

I take down my ponytail because of my headache and start fixing the strands of my hair too.

I run my fingers through it and done.

I put the uniform in the bag and slip on the flats that were there too, since the ones I had on were part of the uniform.

And done.

“All good back there?” he asks.

“Yes,” I confirm, climbing back to the front. I buckle my seatbelt and keep fixing my hair.

I grab the iPad and decide to skim through it quickly, just so I don’t walk in there completely clueless. And, well, in no time, we arrive at the blessed company.

He parks, but the parking lot has no sign at the entrance. Apparently, it’s only for employees, so we won’t run into my father here.

My heart races with nerves, simply because I already know this won’t go well.

It’s my father.

That day when I had been “kidnapped” to the base, things were bad. Extremely bad, in that case, because things have always been bad.

Whatever. It’s not like I’m not used to it.

I step out of the car as soon as he parks. He’s obviously not in his uniform—which looks nothing like ours, of course.

“Welcome!” a man who was clearly waiting for us says, and I offer him a smile.

“Thank you,” I reply as we walk into the elevator.

“So, how will this work?” I ask, already curious.

“The director of the company will receive Mr. Jacob Moss and will show him the facility,” the man explains, and I nod.

“This right here is the company where we handle all confidential matters,” he says, and I nod. “You’ll come with me to a room where some of our employees are. He’ll see you there and, if he wishes, Mr. Moss may speak with you in the director’s office.”

Oh, dear God.

“Alright, that’s fine,” I reply, and the elevator doors open.

“You’re in good hands, Lauren. I’ll be around. As soon as he leaves, we will head out,” he says, and I nod.

Everyone is working, which is kind of obvious, considering this is their workplace.

I follow the gentleman, who leads me to one of the most distant rooms here, and from right outside, I could already hear some noises.

Mr. Jacob Moss has already set foot in this place.

“Welcome!” the group of employees in here says, offering me a small smile, and I return it as I walk over to them. They give me a brief explanation about what this place is.

BLAKE WRAY

“She’s already inside,” Samuel’s voice comes through, and Sasha activates the microphone Irika implanted in the outfit Moss is wearing.

“And Moss is inside as well,” he announces, while I watch the room Moss is in, then shift my eyes to the footage showing Moss receiving a tour around the company.

We all stay focused, watching everything and listening to the director present the facilities to him.

“Here you go, I brought your favorite coffee,” Hailey says as she enters the room and hands it to me.

“Thank you,” I say, and then she goes to sit down.

“The outfit looks good on her,” I hear Irika comment, and my eyes move to the screen showing Moss.

The uniform doesn’t look bad on her.

“And this is the room where Miss Lauren is working on our most recent project,” the director says as he walks in, and I watch Moss closely, searching for any reaction.

She barely looks at her father, who smiles politely at everyone.

“Good morning, Mr. Moss!” they all greet him, and he greets them back, glancing around the room.

Little does he know he won’t discover anything, since this is an abandoned project, set up only as a disguise.

Moss simply ignored her father, purely and completely.

Interesting.

Moss left the area after asking a few questions to the employees, and as expected, he demanded to speak with his daughter.

Right now, he’s in the director’s office, drinking coffee while waiting for Lauren, who’s already taken a deep breath about three times before walking in.

“What a drama queen…” I hear Hailey mutter while observing everything as well.

LAUREN MOSS

After reconsidering my entire life, I walk into the office where my father is.

“Why did you call me here?” I ask right away, and he lifts his eyes to me. Where’s the friendly smile he was showing everyone just moments ago?

Oh, right—gone. Because he’s not friendly in the slightest.

“Because, technically, I wasted valuable minutes of my schedule to see what nonsense you’ve gotten yourself into this time,” he says, and I sigh.

“You shouldn’t waste more. You can leave,” I reply immediately, and he stands up, eyes still on me. I don’t look away until his hand meets my face and my cheek starts to sting. I close my eyes, absorbing the pain, because screaming or crying aren’t options.

I’m used to it.

I breathe deeply, run my tongue along the inside of my cheek where he just slapped me, just to make sure I’m not bleeding from how strong it was, but no. I inhale again and open my eyes to face him.

“I’ve already told you to learn how to speak to me,” he says, and I frown.

“Listen to me…” I say, nervous and fighting tears, I won’t lie. But oh, he can forget about ever seeing me cry. “Say what you want and get back to your busy schedule. If you didn’t want to come here, then you simply shouldn’t have come,” I make clear, refusing to be intimidated.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were on this project?” he asks.

“Because it’s not of your concern, Mr. Moss,” I answer. “Because you don’t care,” I add, ironically. “The question is: why are you interested now, all of a sudden?” I ask.

“You’re going to tell me what this project is about right now, Lauren, and I don’t want to hear your little jokes,” he says, and I smile.

“I’m not going to,” I say, and I see his hand clench into a fist. “You can hit me again, then my coworkers will see just how friendly you really are,” I add, sarcastic, and oh, the rage in his eyes could make anyone question whether I’m really his daughter.

“I’m not going to repeat myself, Lauren,” he says in a threatening tone.

“And I’m not going to tell you,” I state. “It’s a confidential project for a reason, don’t you think?” I ask. “If you’re so curious, then find one of your many ways to figure it out, since you only don’t control the world because… well, who knows why,” I say.

BLAKE WRAY

He just hit his daughter.

And from the way she reacted, it apparently happens often.

With the crimes he’s got on his record, it’s not surprising. What is surprising is that I didn’t know specifically about this.

Moss didn’t give him any information, and her father’s hand went straight to her neck.

“Go inside the room,” I tell Samuel, who opens the door at once. The man lets her go, and she pulls her hair forward, trying to cover her neck.

Hell!

LAUREN MOSS

My father’s hand went to my neck, but thankfully someone knocked on the door, and he pulled his hand back after giving me a reprimanding look.

I pulled my hair to the front, to hide the mark I probably have on my face and now on my neck.

“Come in,” he answers the knock at the door and the way he changes his facial expression is incredible.

“Mr. Moss!” Samuel says as he enters, and I let out a deep breath. “Oh, John, right?” my father says with a little smile.

Lord, have mercy.

“Yes, sir,” Samuel replies, shaking his hand as if he were some kind of admirer. Well, whatever!?

Anyways…

“Would you like to see more of our facilities? Lauren needs to return to the project,” he says. “I was just saying goodbye. I only came to see where and how my daughter was working.” Spare me!

“With your permission,” I say.

I don’t want to stay here anymore.

“If you need anything, let us know,” my father says, and I pretend I didn’t hear a thing as I walk out.

At least it’s over. And surely after this, he won’t come again because, as I already knew, he didn’t come for me, he came because of this project.

This project that I’m almost certain was forged according to my father’s interests just to bring me here.

He’s probably had his eyes on this company for a long time. That would explain why he immediately liked Samuel when he dropped me off at home, and why he didn’t try to stop me from coming.

Anyways…

There’s nothing he wants that he can’t get. He’ll question the director or use his influence— which he does all the time—to get the answers he wants.

I simply walk past his security guards, who were standing outside, and go to the room where I was before, staying there talking with the real employees while waiting for Samuel.

My headache just keep getting worse.

It didn’t take long for Samuel to show up.

“Shall we go, Lauren?” Samuel asks, and I nod as I stand up. “Bye, and thank you!” I say, saying goodbye to them.

“Bye!” they say, and we leave.

Samuel speaks with the director, and then we say our goodbyes. We leave the elevator, walk to the car, and I get in with a deep breath, feeling absolutely awful, sensing an anxiety attack trying to hit me, but I manage to control it.

I buckle my seatbelt, and Samuel drives out of there, finally. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay, Lauren?” Samuel asks.

“I am, just with a bit of a headache, but I put medicine in my bag. I’ll take it when I get home,” I say, and I feel his eyes on me.

But I avoid moving too much. After all, I don’t know how badly his hand marked my face, and there would be no way to lie if he asked anything. He just didn’t notice because I pulled my hair forward.

He continues driving silently until, suddenly, he stops at a pastry shop. “One minute,” he says. I nod, and he steps out.

“Hate this…” I mumble, irritated.

What would it cost him to actually care about his own daughter? What?

If they didn’t want me, they could’ve just had me aborted. It would’ve been easier for both sides.

But no…

“It’s over, Lauren…” I tell myself, trying to calm down.

I’m out of that mansion. I hope I can stay out of there, and out of jail as well.

I stayed there watching the street and, obviously, we’re in another city. The base isn’t close either, and there’s barely any neighborhood around. I’ve never seen anything in this area.

It didn’t take long before he came back.

“For you,” he says, handing me a drink and a small bag. Surprised, that’s what I was.

“You didn’t have to, thank you!” I say, and he smiles, speeding up and taking a sip of the coffee he brought for himself.

“You’re welcome,” he says, and I simply open the bag, which contains croissants.

“I love croissants,” I say, genuinely grateful, and he smiles.

“I know,” he says.

Damn… for a moment, I forgot I was in a car with a special agent.

I ate happily. I even offered him a croissant since he didn’t bring anything else, but he refused.

He’s a fitness guy. Good for me, I ate everything alone. After a little while, we arrived at the base’s parking lot.

I grab the bag with my uniform, and we get out of his car. We walk to the elevator, and I lean against the wall, sighing.

“You can ask,” I say, seeing that he wants to ask me something. “Did you argue with your father?” he asks.

“There’s not a day without an argument, but it was nothing serious,” I say. And although I feel he wants to ask more, he just nods, unsatisfied, but doesn’t insist.

“I’ll ask the guards to release me later, and I’ll return the clothes,” I say as the elevator doors open.

“That won’t be necessary,” he says, and I nod.

“All right,” I say. “See you later, and thank you for the croissant,” I say, thanking him, and he smiles.

“You’re welcome,” he says and walks off like an agent who has more important things to deal with, while I head to the other elevator to go back to the recruits’ base.

It’s practically lunchtime.

I go down and, well, everyone was chatting. I simply hear the alarm as I enter my little room.

I close the door, drop the bag in my room, and sigh in frustration, trying to understand why there’s so much hatred.

Only towards me. Only at me do they raise their hands. They’ve never done it, and surely will never do it to Leandra.

And if at least it were because I’m some rebellious girl and blah-blah-blah… but I’m not.

Compared to my siblings, I’m the one who causes the least problems. But I’m the one who always suffers.

It didn’t start today.

I even thought I was adopted. Miriam and I did the DNA test, well, actually, Miriam’s cousin did it.

I collected their things, both my father’s and my mother’s and instead of going myself (because, as you know, I’m forced to walk around with security, and Miriam, as my friend, ends up being watched too), we gave it to her cousin, who was around at the time and is a close friend of ours, to do it.

And well, I am their daughter.

It was a relief, but afterwards I kind of wished I wasn’t.

Anyways…

It passed.

I go to the bathroom, splash cold water on my face, and well, of course there would be a mark on my face. He slapped me as if he were hitting his worst enemy, or killing a mosquito.

It hurts, but it passes.

I grab concealer and apply it.

This one is really good. It was the only thing my mother ever gave me, because imagine if the Moss daughter went around with her parents’ handprint on her face…

What an embarrassment, huh?!

“At this point, they’d definitely deny it if I said anything. Since I’m supposedly the problematic daughter, they’d create a completely nonexistent situation, like:

‘She has an abusive boyfriend who beats her.’

‘She’s out of her mind.’ ‘She uses drugs.’

That last one they’ve already said once, just to build the image they want, one that I’m not. All so they can sell more and paint Leandra as a princess.

If anything, a rattlesnake princess, that’s what she is.

I spray on some setting spray and done, you can’t see anything.

I grab my things, the headache pill, and go to the kitchen. I pour a glass of water and take it.

I stay here for about five minutes, staring at the wall, before deciding to go out, grab something to eat, and then sleep for a bit.

I leave, lock the door, and go.

A few people are still serving themselves. Apia was already sitting and smiled at me when she saw me. I smiled back and went to the buffet.

I served myself.

They always have delicious food here, that’s a fact. So I serve myself very well and go sit with Apia’s little group.

“Where did you go?” she asks, and obviously they were all curious.

Now they’re going to think I’m the ultimate spoiled brat. If only they knew… “My father,” I shorten the sentence, and they nod.

“Don’t tell me Jacob Moss knows that his little daughter is in an extremely confidential training?” one of the guys from the other table asks, loud and clear, and I sigh.

“Don’t mind him,” Apia says, reacting to the provocation.

“He doesn’t know, if that makes you feel any less bothered,” I respond, turning back to face forward. I see Noah glaring at him murderously, and the guy doesn’t say another word.

Amen!

I’ve got a headache, I can’t deal with him now.

I eat peacefully, chat with them a bit, and I only took a banana for dessert.

I think it’s already noticeable that bananas are one of my favorite fruits. I ate it on my way home. I came in and locked the door.

I went to throw the banana peel in the trash and simply took off my flats, heading to the bedroom. I set the alarm for a little before the general wake-up call, just so I won’t be late. And I knocked out.

BLAKE WRAY

“I didn’t say anything, she thought her hair was covering it,” Samuel says about Moss, and the amount of frustration this situation caused me can’t even be described.

“We’ll have to start with that as soon as possible,” I say, and they nod. “The elimination process will be accelerated,” I make clear, and they nod again.

I, wanting it or not, need her as close as possible. That’s an easy task, but for immediate purposes, the sooner, the better.

LAUREN MOSS

I was in my deepest sleep when this damn thing called an alarm goes off.

Well, at least I slept a little.

“Come on, Lau, or you’ll end up in jail with criminals even more murderous than you, my girl,” I tell myself as I walk to the bathroom.

I splash water on my face, wash off the makeup, and well, the redness is gone. I brush my teeth and everything else, then leave the bathroom and put on the uniform I’m supposed to wear now, according to the schedule.

I grab the notebook with the summary I made yesterday, just to review it while I drink my tea in the kitchen.

I make myself a lemon tea—the best tea in my opinion—and drink it while I wait for that general alarm to ring, reviewing the material I studied yesterday.

When the alarm rings, I set the cup down, grab my water bottle, and leave, locking the door.

Now that I’m out, the hatred around here and the whispers have tripled.

All of this is already irritating me way too much.