His Forbidden Obsession

Chapter Two

(Amara's POV)

He didn't die.

I found that out at the end of my shift.

"Gunshot guy?" one of the nurses said as we changed out. "He made it through surgery."

I paused, my fingers stilling on the zipper of my bag.

"He did?"I asked, quite surprised at the relief I felt.

"Yeah. Lucky bastard." She replied.

Lucky.

I wasn't so sure that was the right word.

By the time I came back the next night… he was gone. It was strange because there were no discharge papers, no charts, no name…..nothing.

"Wait….what do you mean he's gone?" I asked, frowning at the empty space where his file should have been.

The nurse at the station shrugged. "Transferred I guess."

"Where?" I asked surprised at her carefree attitude about someone who almost died.

Another shrug. "No idea. Came from higher up."

That didn't make any sense. Patients didn't just disappear like that.

Not without records at least.

A strange feeling settled in my chest. Something about this felt wrong and uneasy but I pushed it aside because what else could I do?

People came and went in this hospital every day.

That's how this job worked. You didn't follow their stories or get attached.

You moved on.

For three days, I did.

Until I started noticing things...

At first it was small, so small that I almost ignored it.

A black SUV parked across the street from my apartment building.

It wasn't unusual. This was New York, cars came and went all the time but it stayed. It stayed longer than it should have.

The engine was kept running and the windows were too dark to see through.

I ignored it and went to bed tired from saving lives all day.

I noticed it again the next morning. It was still at the same spot, the same uneasy feeling settled in my stomach but I told myself I was overthinking it.

I had barely slept and back-to-back shifts had a way of messing with your head.

That was all it had to be.

By the second day, I started noticing more.

A man standing near the corner store on my way home. He wasn't doing anything suspicious, just standing there.

But when I passed him, I felt it….

His gaze lingering a second too long. It was heavy and intentional, like he had a plan.

I turned slightly, pretending to adjust my bag, catching him in my peripheral vision.

He looked away immediately…too quickly in fact.

My grip tightened around the strap. This was just coincidence, it had to be.

"Amara, you're zoning out again." I heard someone say.

I blinked, snapping back to the present.

"Sorry," I muttered, forcing a small smile as I reached for the chart in front of me.

"You've been off since that trauma case," my colleague said, watching me carefully. "You good?"

"I'm fine," I replied quickly.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she didn't push.

"Just tired," I added, softer this time.

That part wasn't a lie but that wasn't the whole truth either.

I was exhausting from work back-to-back, all to make ends meet but for some reason, that man wouldn't leave my mind.

By the third day, the feeling wouldn't go away.

If anything…..it got worse.

It followed me through the hospital walls, through the parking lot and all the way to my apartment door.

I stood there for a moment with my keys in hand just staring at my door and listening for what I didn't know.

Everything was quiet….too quiet.

A slow breath left my lips as I unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The apartment looked exactly the same…..small and orderly for someone who barely had anytime to breathe.

The living room opened immediately from the door….it was narrow and simple. My worn grey couch sat pushed against the wall, the fabric was slightly faded from years of use. In front of it, a low coffee table held my scattered medical notes, a half-empty water bottle, and a plate I kept forgetting to wash after late shifts.

It was clean… but not really lived in. More like maintained out of habit than comfort.

The kitchen sat in a tight corner to my left. A kettle rested on the counter beside a few stacked cups, and the cupboards were only half-stocked with the basics I managed to buy between shifts. Everything was arranged too neatly, like I was always prepared to leave again before I even fully arrived.

The only thing that felt personal was the framed certificate hanging slightly crooked on the wall. I never bothered to straighten it. Half the time, I didn't even notice it anymore.

My bedroom was no different….it was simple and bare in a way. I didn't stay still long enough to decorate it properly as I was hardly home. It was just a neatly made bed, a bedside lamp, and a chair draped with scrubs I hadn't folded yet.

Nothing unnecessary. Nothing warm. It was just functional which was all I needed.

It was simply a place I came back to only to recover before going out again to save everyone else.

I shut the door behind me and locked it quickly, my fingers lingering on the knob a second longer than necessary.

"Get it together, Amara," I muttered under my breath.

"You're just tired." I said to myself.

I dropped my bag on the couch and moved through the apartment, checking the windows one by one. They were all locked.

I let out a deep breath. There was nothing to worry about.

Sleep didn't come easily that night as I tossed and turned in bed. Afraid of the unknown.

By the fourth day, I was beyond exhausted. I just needed to rest else I collapse.

My shift ended just after midnight.

I stepped out of the hospital, pulling my jacket tighter around me as the cool air brushed against my skin.

For a moment, I just stood there watching but I saw nothing.

I exhaled quietly and walked toward the parking lot but halfway there, I felt it again.

That same presence that had caused me sleepless nights for days now. I slowed down and then stopped.

I turned around slowly and there it was…. The Black SUV. It was parked under a flickering streetlight with its engine running.

My stomach dropped. This wasn't a coincidence anymore.

A chill ran through my spine as I took a step back.

Something wasn't right. I should go back inside and call security but before I could move…..the driver's door opened.

My breath caught in my throat as I watched a man step out, then another followed from the passenger side.

My pulse spiked instantly.

"Hey…" I started, my voice tight. "Is there a problem?"

They didn't answer me, instead they just kept walking toward me. Their steps were too fast.

Every instinct in my body screamed at me to run and so I did.

I turned sharply, rushing back toward the hospital entrance….

But I didn't make it far as a hand grabbed my arm.

"Wait—what are you doing? Let go—!"

The second man was already behind me.

And before I could scream—

A hand clamped over my mouth as panic exploded through me.

I struggled instantly, kicking, twisting, trying to break free….but they were stronger.Too strong.

"Don't fight," one of them muttered coldly into my ear.

My heart slammed violently against my ribs.

No, no, no—

They dragged me backward toward the SUV.

I tried to scream again, but it came out muffled. Every action of mine was useless.

The door opened and I caught a glimpse of black leather—

Then I was shoved inside. The door slammed shut behind me and then there was silence…..

My breathing turned uneven as I scrambled back against the seat.

"Please—" I managed, my voice shaking. "You've got the wrong person—"

"No."

The word cut through the air. That voice felt familiar….too familiar.

I turned to find the voice hoping it would offer me some comfort.

And there he was.

Sitting across from me like he had been waiting for me.

His dark eyes were locked onto mine. They were sharp as I remembered, alive and dangerous.

The man who should have died.

"You…" I whispered in disbelief.

"Yes," he said calmly. There were no hesitations in his eyes, just certainty.

"You saved my life," he said as he studied my disheveled state.

My pulse pounded in my ears as I held his gaze….

This wasn't gratitude, I could feel it.

His lips curved slightly into a smirk. "And now," he continued quietly. "You don't get to walk away,.