Obsession Read Online Free PDF Page B

from her own throat, she realized fuzzily. Blood spurted from her nose; she could feel the warm, wet gush of it even through the whirlpool of dizziness sucking her down.
    Letting go of her hair, he straightened to his full height.
    “Be right back,” he said, and left the kitchen with a dozen quick footsteps that echoed faintly as he crossed the hard floor. When he reached the dining-room carpet, the sounds disappeared, muffled by thickly padded wool.
    Except for the sound of it, Katharine barely registered his leaving through the haze of shock and pain. Eyes closed, drawing ragged breaths in through her mouth, she lay as he had left her, stunned, while blood continued to pour from her nose. Maybe she lost consciousness, maybe not, but for a brief period she was aware of little beyond the gray cloud that fogged her senses and her own struggle to breathe through the gore.
    “Katharine.” It was the merest breath of sound. Something touched her, something warm that jostled her left shoulder and leg. When she didn’t respond, the touch came again, harder this time. There was something about it that felt urgent.
    Not without a struggle, Katharine opened her eyes. Blood was in her mouth, salty and thick and warm, and the taste and oily sensation made her shudder. She lifted her head and spat it out. The kitchen swam in front of her, and she was immediately conscious of the crimson pool on the floor where her face had rested. Her nose . . . was it broken? It was still bleeding, she thought, but not as much now.
    It hurt. Oh, God, it hurt.
    “Katharine.”
    Her eyes had already begun to lose their focus again. Instinctively, she turned her head in the direction of that husky whisper. A flash of yellow snagged her peripheral vision, urging her on. Even as a new wave of dizziness washed over her and the rest of the kitchen went all blurry once more, her head completed that difficult quarter-turn and her eyes widened with surprise. Lisa was impossible to mistake. Her friend now lay next to her, turned on her side facing away, her yellow-nylon-sheathed back scant inches from Katharine’s damaged face. It took a second—Katharine was still fuzzy—but then she realized that Lisa had rolled, scooted, wriggled, or by some other method propelled herself across the kitchen floor to her side.
    Their eyes met over Lisa’s shoulder.
    “Get my hands free.”
    Lisa’s slim, tanned hands, her fingertips unnaturally pale now from having been so tightly bound for so long, wiggled vigorously below the wide band of gray duct tape that was wrapped tightly around both wrists. Katharine frowned a little, blinking uncomprehendingly down at them. Then Lisa scooted another inch or so backward, thrusting her bound hands forcefully toward Katharine’s face.
    “My hands,” Lisa hissed.
    All of a sudden, it hit Katharine: Lisa was talking. Not easily, not well, but talking. The tape covering her mouth had come loose. How? Katharine considered, then realized that it didn’t matter. The rectangular patch of industrial gray strips was still there, still glued to her upper lips and cheeks, but she was able to move her lower lip enough to form intelligible words.
    “Use your teeth.” It was an urgent whisper.
    Katharine blinked again.
    “Use my teeth?” she repeated, befuddled.
    “Shh. Yes.”
    Katharine had forgotten to whisper. She realized that as soon as the words left her mouth, even before Lisa’s face contorted viciously and her heels smacked warningly into the side of her thigh. Even as Katharine winced, reflexively jerking her leg back out of the way, Lisa glared at her.
    “To get the tape off. Use your teeth.”
    This time Katharine remembered to whisper. “Oh. Okay.”
    But she still couldn’t quite wrap her mind around what she needed to do. Her nose hurt so, like a tuning fork quivering with an agonizing sensation aimed directly at the pain centers in her brain. Her head throbbed, her ears rang, and every time she moved her head