Midnight Obsession

Copyright © 2023 by J.L. Kenna All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. For more information, visit website: www.jlkenna.com Editing and Proofreading: Tori Ellis (Cruel Ink Editing + Design) Cover Design and Chapter Header Design (Paperback): Rotoscope Design Cover Model: Eric Guilmette Photographer: CJC Photography Paperback ISBN: 979-8378999675 Created with Vellum For the person behind the mask. Come out and play—we want to see your scars. They’re beautiful. PLAYLIST Call Out My Name - The Weeknd Pink - LÉON I Fucking Lust You - D’african The Best I Ever Had - Limi Sure Thing - Miguel Erode - TENDER Earned It - The Weeknd Heaven - Julia Michaels I Won’t Fight It - Andrew Belle Fetish (feat. Gucci Mane) - Selena Gomez Lost in the Fire (feat. The Weeknd) - Gesaffelstein Dandelions - Ruth B Don’t Blame Me - Taylor Swift Mount Everest - Labirinth Visit Playlist on Spotify “Heal the heart, don’t hide the pain.” MELANIE KOULOURIS CONTENT NOTE Midnight Obsession contains sexually explicit scenes. Mentions of abuse of a minor and sexual assault, including grooming. Descriptions of domestic abuse. Mentions of death. As well as mature content that is not suitable for all audiences. * * * Reader discretion is advised. PLEASE READ THE PROLOGUE Hayden’s interest in Pippa develops there. Reading it helps you understand references made throughout the entire book. CONTENTS PROLOGUE 1. HAYDEN 2. PIPPA 3. PIPPA 4. PIPPA 5. HAYDEN 6. PIPPA 7. PIPPA 8. HAYDEN 9. HAYDEN 10. HAYDEN 11. PIPPA 12. PIPPA 13. HAYDEN 14. HAYDEN 15. PIPPA 16. HAYDEN 17. PIPPA 18. HAYDEN 19. PIPPA 20. PIPPA 21. HAYDEN 22. PIPPA 23. PIPPA 24. HAYDEN 25. PIPPA 26. HAYDEN 27. HAYDEN 28. PIPPA 29. PIPPA 30. HAYDEN 31. PIPPA 32. PIPPA 33. PIPPA 34. HAYDEN 35. HAYDEN 36. PIPPA 37. HAYDEN 38. HAYDEN 39. PIPPA 40. PIPPA Epilogue HAVE YOU MET HAYDEN’S BROTHER, ALECK FOX? Acknowledgments About the Author PROLOGUE HAYDEN 21 YEARS AGO, eleven years old… Watching the landscape of the bustling city of L.A. blend and melt into a watercolor of palm trees, sun-kissed faces, and well-manicured lawns, I press my forehead to the cold window of my mother’s Mercedes. She’s not responding to the desperation in my tone. Can’t she hear it? My father once told me if I wanted something, I needed to come out and ask for it—flat out. So I did. Or at least, I tried. “I just don’t understand why you can’t be there,” I say, my tone harboring a touch more brattiness than I’d intended, but we’ve been going over this again and again and she’s not listening. “You’ve always gone to my practices in the past. I don’t want Coach Gunner giving me rides anymore.” “Why? He was kind enough to offer when I told him the situation.” The situation. As if adopting an entire human being and integrating him into our tightly woven familial threads was a meager affair. The situation, as she so mildly put it, refers to the extreme decision she’s made—for the entire family, I might add—to embrace a boy who is ill-bred, ill-mannered, and whose vocabulary consists of yes, no, and fuck off. I know my vocabulary at only eleven is vast, but I was raised by an impressive pedigree and taught by the finest teachers in the United States. Some of my courses could be considered college prep, and although I want to feel compassion that Aleck hadn’t had the same upbringing, my hatred and resentment toward him wouldn’t let me afford myself the ability. My mother always had a bleeding heart for strays. And now one is living in our house. I thought it, but I didn’t say it. I’m already standing on thin ice as it is. The true reason I don’t want Coach to give me rides anymore is like a clump of black sludge in my throat. I want to tell her. I want to say it flat out like my father told me to do when making everyone suffer through my childish antics instead of properly expressing myself had worn him thin. But I can’t. I want to tell her how uncomfortable Coach makes me, what he said when we were alone, or how he looked at me, but I can’t. “I just don’t!” I grit. “His car smells like cigarette smoke and sweat. Send a driver to pick me up from now on. Please.” I know I’m acting like a spoiled brat, a petulant child, I know that. I also know how my misbehaving in the past has made it hard for my parents to take me seriously. But that’s not what this is. I’m not merely trying to get a rise out of my folks, I’m pleading for them to see me without making me suffer through saying it. I’m clawing my way through a trench of mud and breaking my fingers trying to get to the surface for just one breath. I’m begging for a lifeline. It’s a hard reality for me to accept. That not knowing what the future holds, or how it might escalate, makes me sick. If I told them, would they even believe me? At the very least, I know this thing with Gunner isn’t normal. It makes me feel out of control. So very out of control that the air around me buzzes with uncertainty. Until six months ago, my life was perfect. I had always noticed something off about Coach Gunner, but he had been so typical and even sweet around my parents