The King's Obsession ✔️

THIRTY FOUR

Word Count: 1788

~Akara

Whatever headspace I was in before I lost consciousness cannot have been a good one.

But I've never been more grateful for my own self preservation.

Pacing back and forth through my room, the warning I wrote for myself is scrunched up in my hand. My instincts have failed me. I thought I could trust Grey, that he was nothing more than a victim to my incessant need to get back to find Marek.

Marek and I spent the rest of yesterday afternoon checking every inch of that motel room, only to find nothing. The girl at the desk wasn't very helpful either, claiming she had only just started working there, and couldn't confirm whether I was alone that day with Grey, or whether I indulged where I was going.

"Akara..."

I turn, having already felt the cool breeze coming through my opening window, heard the soft footsteps fall onto my bedroom floor. I knew he was coming tonight.

Advancing on Grey, I slam my hands against his shoulders, sending him hurtling back a few strides. His eyes widen, but he doesn't retaliate, even as I press him up against the wall, blade of my knife, of Marek's knife, against his neck.

"Don't move, or I kill you," I hiss lowly.

His eyes are wide and frightened as he holds his hands up. "Wha...what is going on?"

"Have you been lying to me?" I snap.

"About what?"

"About...about everything? I left myself a note in the motel room we were making out in, and it said not to trust you," I growl, dropping the scrunched up note to the floor. Grey's eyes follow the movement, swallowing uncomfortably.

"Huh? We made out in a lot of motel rooms," he says, making me wince. Great, more unwelcome imagery that will haunt me later.

"Answer me. Why didn't I think I could trust you?" I push, pressing the knife closer to his skin. Even though he trembles with fear, he doesn't otherwise appear to believe that I'm ready to kill him if I catch him lying.

I'm done with untrustworthy people. I want them gone from my life.

"How do you know it was written by you?" he questions.

"I know my own handwriting dumbass. And does it even matter?" I snap. I must have known I would lose my memory, and must have hoped I would come back for that note, all those weeks later.

"I don't know why you would think that. I was the one that had doubts about you, and perfectly valid one's too," he retorts, shifting in my grip, but it remains firm. The moment I let him away from the blade of my knife, the moment he can turn on me, and make good on whatever his ultimate plan is.

"You're lying," I growl.

He shakes his head. "I'm not lying, I swear! I came with information."

"What information?"

"Can you get that knife away from my neck?" He turns his head to avoid the blade cutting his skin. I grit my teeth, before stepping away, giving him some space. It's how desperate I am for this supposedly information that I told him to gather for me.

"Fine," I grumble. "Tell me."

"I met a guy in the local village, told me he's friend's with someone who Tai hired to shoot you," he mentions, rubbing his neck where the knife was, before nodding at my once wounded shoulder.

I blink. "What?"

Grey taps his chin, remembering his encounter with this man. "This may not be credible, but the man was drunk off his ass, claiming his friend brought the whole bar drinks because he made so much from that one job. Even I got a-"