DANGEROUS OBSESSION

11

LAUREN MOSS

If Hailey was treating me badly because of Blake, then she definitely shouldn’t hate me that much. I walk ahead so I don’t get one more eye roll from the doctor or nurse—whatever she is.

Actually, I’m running from Blake himself.

I just want to breathe properly.

I went back to my little house.

My wrist still hurts.

But well, let’s see if it gets better by tomorrow, because there’s more coming.

“Dear Father God!” I exclaim, already walking toward the bedroom.

I take off my clothes and toss them straight into the washing machine, rearranging the previous ones, and return to the bedroom. I walk into the bathroom and immediately get under the shower.

Get this sweat out of my hair and my body.

I took my shower, scrubbing myself most of the time with just one hand.

“You did a hundred push-ups today, what did you expect?” I question myself, frustrated. I washed my hair and then got out.

I dried my hair, cleaned myself, put on my body lotion, and put on pajamas once and for all—and you know what?

I don’t even care now.

I already showered; I’m not going to change into another outfit just to stay twenty minutes in the dining hall.

If they want to talk, let them talk.

I slip my feet into my sandals.

I didn’t dare attempt the stretching-motion with my hand to fix my hair, but since I dried it really well, it’s not dripping. It’ll dry.

I brush my teeth, and that’s it. I head out to eat.

The way I’m exhausted is beyond words.

“Hey, little pajama girl back?” Apia asks, smiling at me as I head straight to the buffet where she is, dressed like she’s at some fancy gathering or something.

She looks beautiful.

“I already took a shower, I’m not going to waste my time getting dressed with the hunger I have right now,” I say, and she smiles.

Everyone is dressed like her, but by now I don’t even care anymore.

The fear of being the newbie judged is already fading.

And well, the pajamas I wore today aren’t anything special—simple solid colors, shirt and pants, silk, covering everything and comfortable.

So, nothing fancy.

“Where did you go with Agent Wray?” she asks as I finish putting some salad on my plate.

“To the infirmary,” I respond, already understanding why the girls there were looking at me even more strangely. “I dislocated my wrist,” I say, showing her.

“Oh, is it better?” she asks as I walk with her to the table.

“It hurts, but at least it’s not unbearable anymore,” I reply, sitting down. “Good evening!” I greet those already seated.

“Good evening!” they respond.

“What happened to your hand?” Noah asks, looking at it.

“I twisted it during the first obstacle,” I explain. “But I already went to the infirmary, it should get better soon,” I add.

“Oh, I thought it happened at the end,” Apia says. “No, it was at the beginning,” I reply, eating.

“You should be more careful. If you had pushed harder, you could be in a cast by now,” she says, and I nod, knowing she’s right.

“I know, but I’m already later than you guys, I had to push myself a bit until the end,” I say, eating.

“I could have hurt you, you should have told me,” Apia says, indignant. “It’s over, it was just a dislocation,” I say.

Well, they chat, and I only join in topics that include me, that is, nothing to do with them and their personal stuff. I had a yogurt at the end, said goodbye, and went back to my room since they stayed there talking.

I’m not used to this heavy routine, so I just went inside my little house, locked the door, and headed to the bathroom. I did my oral hygiene, washed my face, did my skincare—because it’s important—dried my hair completely to sleep with dry hair, and grabbed my cell phone. I miss Miriam so much.

And oh, she has a missed call here!

I dial her number while heading to the laundry area to iron my little clothes properly. When she answers:

“Amen, I was already thinking you hadn’t answered because something happened,” she says as I put the phone on speaker beside me and start ironing my clothes.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t kill anyone else,” I say, and I hear her laughing.

“It’s so tragic that I’m laughing…” she says, and I smile, trying not to laugh too. “What were you doing?” she asks.

“Training and studying,” I reply. “There’s nothing else to do here besides those two things,” I add.

“And how’s it going?” she asks.

“I dislocated my wrist, so imagine!” I tell her, frustrated. “Lau, are you okay?” she asks, with her voice full of concern.

“I’m okay, it hurts much less now. Blake took me to the infirmary,” I explain.

“Humn…” she says, mischievously.

“Blake, huh…” she says, and my face instantly flushes.

“Stop it, Miriam!” I say. She’s going to mess with my brain if she keeps this up. “It was during his training, nothing unusual,” I justify.

“We’ll see if, when someone else gets hurt during training, he’ll take them to the infirmary,” she says, and I roll my eyes.

“If that person gets caught hiding the pain from him, then probably yes, and I’ll feel very sorry for them,” I say.

“And why?” she asks, curious.

“I don’t know if she’s a nurse or a doctor, but the woman who treated me almost dislocated my wrist again while she was putting it back in place,” I tell her. “Clearly has a crush on Blake,” I say.

“Already jealous, Lauren Moss?” she teases, and I roll my eyes.

“Of course not,” I deny.

“She said I should ‘learn how to react’ just because I was in pain. That’s what irritated me,” I say, indignant. “She could try to get his attention without dragging me into it,” I say, frustrated.

“Anyways…” I sigh.

“And after that? Blake?” she insists, curious, and she is NOT helping at all by bringing him up repeatedly.

“Nothing, Miriam!” I exclaim. “I left right away and let him stay there with the nurse,” I say and immediately regret it…

Why am I regretting it? I have nothing to regret.

“Let’s change the subject,” I say, frustrated. “How are things over there?” I ask.

“Fine,” she says. “Not exciting without you here,” she says, annoyed, and I smile.

“I can imagine!” I say, smug, and I can practically see her rolling her eyes.

“We were going out tonight, but no one’s really in the mood,” she says. “And oh, the news that you’re away doing that project John… I mean, Samuel—his real name, right?” she asks, confused.

“Uh-hum,” I confirm, still finishing my ironing. It isn't much; I’m almost done.

“It’s already in the media,” she tells me.

Of course they didn’t waste any time boosting their already inflated egos with pride.

If only they knew.

“Leandra called me,” I say.

“What?!” she asks, incredulous.

“Uh-humn,” I confirm. “And only because she was at some dinner with who-knows-who and wanted to play the ‘concerned sister,’ according to her,” I explain.

“Honestly…” Miriam says.

“For sure there was someone there she wanted to impress,” I comment.

“For sure!” she agrees.

And we talk and talk. I finish ironing my little clothes, turn off the iron, and go back to my room to put everything away.

“Take care,” she says, saying goodbye.

“You too,” I say, and I hang up.

I simply set my alarm for three forty-five, so I can wake up and study. Since breakfast is very early and right after that everything starts all over again.

And I do not want to suffer any more punishments.

I take the pill the nurse gave me and the moment I lie down, I’m out.

BLAKE WRAY

“She took all the references,” Samuel tells me as we step out of the elevator towards the parking lot.

“She probably won’t even wake up on time tomorrow,” Hailey comments, and I get in the car. We have a mission now, relatively simple.

James is already out in the field, and Sasha is controlling everything from the room.

“I think they’re starting to exaggerate the attention they’re giving that girl,” she comments as she comes to sit in the front seat of my car, with Samuel in the back.

Patience… the one thing I wasn’t born with and desperately need.

I accelerate out of there, ignoring her.

Ever since she arrived, that’s what I’ve been trying to do.

“If you’re jealous, that’s not how you’re going to fix things, little Hailey,” I hear Samuel say, and she lifts her gaze toward me.

“She isn’t Blake’s type,” she says with such certainty that I’m forced to look at her. “Besides being the daughter of a murderer,” she continues.

“You’re not his type either, Hailey. If you could stay quiet, it would be a blessing,” Sasha says through the comm.

“If I weren’t, I wouldn’t be his fiancée, right, my love?” she asks, trying to use reverse psychology, and I smile, because—wanting to or not—it is funny.

“Ex-fiancée, Hailey,” I say, and I turn my gaze forward again after watching her expression shift in milliseconds.

“Now I hope you focus, because you’re starting to get annoying to put up with,” I tell her, and in my earpiece I hear Sasha laughing, but I don’t care.

I just accelerate so we can finish this as quickly as possible.

LAUREN MOSS

I wake up frustrated, with the alarm ringing as if there were no tomorrow.

“Humn…” I groan, rolling in bed.

It was so good, so good!

“Where did you drag yourself into, Lauren?” I ask myself, grumpy, throwing myself out of bed fueled by pure hatred, sleep, and everything I have the right to feel

.

I get up and, with my eyes closed, do my oral hygiene already, to see if the fluoride helps me wake up. I grab an oversized jacket because, unlike me, everyone else must be sleeping, so I can dress however I want.

I leave the room with the references and go to the kitchen. I decide to make coffee.

Do I like coffee?

No. I hate it.

But I need it, otherwise…

So I make coffee and pour it into my bottle.

My hand is relatively better, which will help a lot already. So I leave, looking for the library at three in the morning.

“Great…” I mumble as the freezing air hits my face. Well, there are some signs here and guards at the entrance too.

“Hello!” I greet them, and they already look at me strangely. “Did something happen?” one of them asks.

“No,” I answer. “I just wanted to know if you could tell me, where the library is?” I ask. “It’s that way,” he points, and I nod.

“Thank you!” I say, and they nod back as I walk there. With joint pain…

Will there be a day to rest? Like Sunday or something?

I find the library, place the ID card Sasha gave me on the scanner, and I literally walk into paradise.

“Wow…” I say, impressed, as the library doors close behind me. It’s not just books here, there’s everything. And it’s huge!

It’s huge!

And the décor of everything is surreal. It even made me feel like studying now.

I walked around, sipping my coffee, fascinated. There are skeletons here, an area that looks like one of those dream science labs on one side, and on the other, books and more books. There’s a more technological section, there’s everything you can imagine.

It’s a dream come true. Honestly, it really lifted my mood.

With the references in hand, I went to grab a blank notebook and a pen they had here. There’s a ton of material.

I grabbed a globe, a map, and a few books Samuel recommended, and then headed to a table with them.

There’s a computer here too, so I turned it on.

“Let’s do this, Lauren, step by step,” I tell myself, starting from the beginning, the introduction of everything, to help me.

I pick up the introductory book, the notebook, the pen, and dive my mind into this.

What method do I use so I don’t study unnecessary things?

I take the topics that have already been covered and try to understand each one specifically.

It saves time, and it’s more direct. It’s very easy to know what to study and how to study, and it saves precious time.

You study what is essential and later, if you’re curious, you can go deeper.

Which I do not have time to be right now…

Minutes and more minutes trying to understand all this, and it was sinking in. Whatever I didn’t understand easily, I watched a little video lesson on the computer, and done.

With breaks every five minutes or so, so I wouldn’t fry my brain.

But not only did I fully grasp the introductory part, which was absolutely essential for me to move forward, I also got through yesterday’s material. I’m finishing one of the topics he didn’t teach yet.

There wasn’t time to study anything else except this material, because after learning everything, I had to go through it all again.

Now, I just finished writing a big summary in my notebook of everything I learned, using key words. I’m a little calmer and satisfied with my progress.

But according to the clock, it’s time to head back to the room.

I put things away properly and took the notebook with me. I didn’t take the books and maps, because those are the ones that will give me a headache.

I tidy everything and leave. It’s still dawn, but I’ll stay about thirty minutes in the gym to help myself a bit.

I leave the library and walk back to the room. I put on my outfit—the one I had ironed—and head straight to the gym. I already knew where it was because I saw it on the way to the library.

I scanned the card and walked in and… Oh! If it isn’t well-equipped!

I’ll stay here for just thirty minutes so I can shower, eat peacefully, and not arrive late for whatever is going to happen today.

I stretched and turned on the treadmill.

Let’s try to improve this whole “getting out of breath too easily” thing.

I start slow, then increase it to the maximum I can while still keeping my balance and not falling.

And that’s how it went. I pushed myself until I couldn’t anymore. I ended up staying twenty minutes on the treadmill.

After that, I did a few abs exercises for ten minutes, because there was no chance I’d try to force my hand now.

As soon as the ten minutes were up, I walked out of there sweaty and panting.

My personal trainer used to say that joint pain stopped if you exercised constantly. We’ll see if that works or if it was just a trick to make me show up at the gym every day.

I leave and head back to my little house. I close the door and go straight to the bathroom.

“I would absolutely be getting back from a party right now,” I tell myself, looking in the mirror while I undress, my eyes screaming that I didn’t sleep at all.

I undress, step into the shower, and start my little bath.

I took my time, because it felt amazing, but before I fell asleep in there, I got out.

I brushed my teeth and then applied body lotion. I washed my face, did my skincare, and it already gave my zombie eyes a bit of life.

I comb my hair and tie it into a ponytail. Right after that, I put on my underwear and check the time to see which uniform is the right one.

I get dressed, make the bed, grab my pajamas and my outfit, and put them in the laundry basket to wash later. I put on some perfume, some gloss, and head to the living room.

And I just start practicing that choreography of moves from Blake’s lesson. One, two, three times, and then the annoying alarm goes off.

I don’t take advantage of this little moment for a quick nap because I’m hungry. I leave the house, locking the door, and at the same moment, Apia comes out.

“Ah, good morning!” she says, surprised. I’m not sure if it’s because she sees me with no sleepy face, just looking like a zombie, or because I’m not in pajamas.

“Good morning!” I greet her, walking with her toward the dining hall. There’s a nice smell in the air.

“How did you sleep?” she asks.

“Almost nothing, but okay,” I reply. “And you?” I ask.

“Good,” she answers, looking at my hand. “It looks much better,” she says, and I nod. “Thank God!” I respond, relieved, seeing all of them leaving.

“Oh, wow…” she mutters, and I follow her gaze. I can already see the little group of girls looking at me sideways up ahead.

“You’ve become the new topic around here, definitely,” she says.

“As long as it keeps them entertained,” I say, shrugging, already used to it.

But this situation is starting to irritate me.

We enter the dining hall, and she greets the guy from yesterday, all cheerful.

I just say a simple “hi” and serve myself: a tea, two sandwiches, a fruit salad, and juice. Because I’m really, really hungry.

We leave the buffet for the table.

“Good morning!” we greet those already seated.

“Good morning!” Apparently, they also don’t know what we’ll do now.

I don’t engage much in conversation, just eat—eating even more because I’m so hungry.

We finish eating, and I leave them in the courtyard and go back to my little house. I brush my teeth and sit down for a bit, drinking a glass of lemon water to help my digestion as quickly as possible.

No one wants to feel unwell here.

I keep drinking my lemon water until the alarm goes off, then I leave.

I follow them, ignoring the girls in front whispering about me, it’s obvious. After all, I slept little to get annoyed.

And well, I’m already used to it.

Being the sister of those three in the Moss family is no easy task.

I ignore them and simply watch them enter the elevator.

The first ones go in, and I head for the other elevator. When the doors start closing, I couldn’t let them shut because I saw Noah approaching.

“Thanks!” he says, stepping in.

“No problem,” I tell him, leaning on the handrail here, and he watches me.

“You look like you didn’t sleep much,” he says.

“Is it that obvious?” I ask, and he smiles, observing me.

Humn, cute little smile.

“Not from your face so much, but you seem tired,” he comments.

“I really didn’t sleep much,” I confirm, and he frowns slightly.

“I saw you going to your room right after dinner,” he says, and I nod.

“Yeah, I did,” I say, and the elevator doors open. We follow the others walking ahead. My heart just races.

Why am I so anxious to see someone I’m sure I will see?

“But I had to wake up a little earlier to study,” I tell him as we enter that room from yesterday.

Why didn’t Blake show up there today?

“And did you manage?” he asks as we enter, and well, everyone is here. “I did,” I affirm, and he nods.

“When I said I could help you if you needed, I meant it. Don’t hesitate, even if it’s the middle of the night,” he says, and I smile.

“Don’t hate me, because I’m going to do so,” I warn, and he smiles. “I authorized it,” he replies.

Then, after we align with the others, I lift my gaze forward, and my eyes meet his—specifically his.

My body instantly jumps from normal temperature to the highest it can go.

My face flushes, and my heart races like there’s no tomorrow, and I scold myself for it.

But his gaze isn’t neutral, like the other times. It’s as if he’s scolding me with his blue eyes, yet his expression reveals nothing.

Just my imagination?

Maybe.

Lately, it seems to have a life of its own.

“Good morning!” we all greet.

Irika is here too, next to Blake, and to his left is Hailey, who…

She really has a grudge against me.

Next to her is James, then Sasha, and then Samuel. And there are some other agents, scattered around.

I already have butterflies in my stomach.

I look up at those rooms above and always wonder who’s in there and what they’re watching.

“You there,” Hailey’s voice sounds, and when I look at her, she’s staring at me. I take a deep breath.

“Are you talking to me?” I ask, just to be sure, and if silence could deafen…

“If you were paying attention to what you should, you’d know yes,” she says.

Oh, honey…

“If you expected me to know you were talking to me, you’d be polite and say my name. ‘You there’ isn’t how you address anyone,” I reply, and quiet murmurs ripple through the room. I just see Sasha and Samuel smile.

Now, Irika has the same serious expression as Blake.

Have they dated before? Or are they a couple?

“Move forward!” Hailey says, scowling, and I go under everyone’s gaze.

I hope it’s not to send me away, but oh, I won’t let her just dump her frustrations on me as if I’m to blame for her being left behind.

From the way she acts, that seems exactly like what happened.

Blake gives her a glance, discreetly. I see her exhale softly before turning her attention back to me.

“Today’s test obviously consists of something the others have already been practicing,” she says, and I just listen, trying to understand why exactly she called me here.

“However, you have an advantage that would be unfair to use in a test against the others,” she says, and I frown.

“We know you can pilot the MH–6 Little Bird helicopter,” she says, and oh, I nod.

Yeah, maybe the media is somewhat right when they call me a rebel sometimes. Remember the whole thing about me going to the police station? Yeah…

I’ll explain later.

“This will be the first helicopter you’ll learn to fly; it’s one of the most used by us,” she says. “So, you go first. However, your performance won’t count as an evaluation, but rather to analyze your current skill level,” she says, and I nod.

“This way,” another agent says, leading me to the other side, and I follow. We leave there. We take the elevator down, walk a bit further, and enter a helicopter base, or I could call it a heliport too.

I had missed this right here.

She explains one thing and another while I put on the goggles, the helmet, and that communication equipment.

I climb into the helicopter and check if everything is in order.

Another agent enters with me in the co-pilot seat, and then I start up this machine. “Moss,” damn…

Blake’s voice, simply tempting, sounds through the communication device, right in my ear, and my body reacts in an extremely improper way, I’d say.

“Yes?” I reply.

“Your evaluation has begun,” he says, and I nod, taking off. “You will follow my commands and execute the maneuvers I order,” he says.

“All right,” I reply, and start the takeoff.

Easy.

“Autorotation,” he says after some time hovering, and I take a deep breath and do it.

Autorotation is a maneuver that simulates engine failure. It involves shutting down the helicopter’s engine and using the rotor’s kinetic energy to glide and perform an emergency landing. It’s a complex maneuver, but personally, I like it.

I did it perfectly. This one I knew!

“Aerobatic flight maneuvers,” he says, and I sigh. These are a bit more complicated due to the commands, but quite fun.

Acrobatic maneuvers consist of doing loops, spins, and inverted flight. They can be trained to increase skill.

I managed to do all three. Well, it’s not really my merit. I went to flight school, so at least with this type of helicopter, which I’m licensed for, I’m expected to perform what I learned.

“Now you’ll descend in altitude,” he commands, and I comply.

I don’t know if they’re using machines to adjust this, but the temperature changed really fast. “Low-altitude, high-speed maneuvers,” he commands.

Ah, if this isn’t really talking to me…

The agent beside me grabbed his harness, scared. It’s normal. Miriam hasn’t flown with me since we went to the police station.

These particular maneuvers involve flying at low altitudes and high speeds, literally requiring quick responses to anything, like turbulent weather.

“Good,” did he just said good?

Stop, Lauren. Focus. Where is your head at?

“You can land again,” he says, and I follow the GPS back to where we were and perform the landing process.

I think I did well.

As soon as I finish, I remove the equipment and get out.

“Very good,” the co-pilot agent who was with me says, and I smile.

“Thank you!” I thank him, shake his hand, and with adrenaline still pumping, I follow the agent who came for me.

I don’t know if they were watching me from the courtyard or the upper room, but we’ll find out now. We return, and three people are called—one from each team—and they go.

There are more helicopters at the base.

I simply go there and sit, thinking how lucky I am today not to feel so behind, at least with this first evaluation, which won’t put me behind anyone.

They didn’t allow me to sit with the others, probably to avoid chatter, so I sat on the other side, alone.

Well, this helicopter story is kind of fun and chaotic at the same time.

I’m not the rebel the media paints me as, but sometimes I can be a little apocalyptic.

First point: I learned to pilot this helicopter by force because, model to model, training varies, and this is the helicopter my father owns.

And well…

I’ve always been interested in it, but they never let me do anything.

Especially an activity they, only they, consider masculine, because my brothers would do it if they were interested.

So what did I do?

I went out with Miriam, Gisela, Stephanie, and other friends to clear my mind with them, because at least that, whether they liked it or not, I could do.

And it was always a mess, this whole thing about me going to public parties or public places, because then it would turn into a media story about irrelevant things that people, for some unfounded reason, get excited about and judge people to death.

And well, I can’t be in the news and blah… Only my perfect sister.

That’s when I found my excuse. If I was going to be in the media for going out dressed this way or that way and blah, it should somehow benefit me. So we openly said, because people love gossip, that I was at flight school.

This lie caused an uproar, and obviously it became a whole fight and a storm of insults in that madhouse when they found out what I’d said.

But my father can’t be questioned and then publicly deny what his daughter said, can he?

After all, he has a whole reputation to maintain.

And that was when, fueled by pure spite, I enrolled in aviation school and managed to get my license to fly the helicopter.

But would they let me actually touch the helicopter, even with a license?

Obviously not.

Because they’re afraid I’ll die, you may ask?

No.