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Perfectly Obsessed

Ellie R. Hunter

  Perfectly Obsessed


  Ellie R Hunter

  Ellie R Hunter

  Perfectly Obsessed

  © 2016 Ellie R Hunter


  [email protected]

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and situations within its pages and places or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and co-incidental.

  Cover Design by

  Also by Ellie R Hunter

  Incurable Hearts…An Eternal Love Story

  The Lost Souls MC Series

  Biker Bait

  Biker Faith

  Biker Bound

  Biker Born

  Biker Saviour

  Table of Contents


  Part One

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three – October 2002

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five – December 2002

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine – March 2003

  Part Two

  Chapter Ten – August 2004

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen – October 2004

  Chapter Fifteen – December 2004

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen - January 2005

  Chapter Eighteen – March 2005

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty - May 2005

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two - June 2005

  Part Three

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five - September 2005

  Chapter Twenty-Six - October 2005

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two – February 2006

  Part Four

  Chapter Thirty-Three 2008

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Epilogue - Nine months later

  “We don't know how we'll die or when our time is due, so be extraordinary, live free and always follow your dreams”

  Ellie R Hunter


  The clang of the metal door slamming shut behind me is an all too familiar sound.

  Being locked up isn’t new to me and I doubt this will be the last time I spend time at her majesty’s pleasure. The judge handed me a fourteen month sentence this time and I intend to get out of here sooner than that.

  Being in prison or being free on the streets makes no difference to me. I know as many people on the inside as I do on the out, so when I hear the word ‘guilty’ while standing in the dock, I couldn’t give two fucks. The judge thinks he’s punishing me by sending me to prison. What a joke, I embrace it as if I’m going to the pub for a cheeky pint. However, this time around is different. For starters, I had a job lined up which is going to have to wait till I’m released and secondly, I finally found a woman who draws me in. A woman called Cammie to be more specific.

  I only know her name because I caught it on her name tag as she poured coffee for a living.

  I was arrested and up in court before I had the chance to talk to her but I know for sure once I’m released, I’ll go back for her and I will find out why she draws me to her when no other woman has before. All I want is one night with her and her mouth-watering body.

  “Oh shit.”

  Fear fills the cell and it excites me. I turn around to see who I’m sharing my cell with and my lips pull up at the corner in an ugly sneer when I see who it is.

  “Alright Perry, you still owe me money,” I say slowly, so the fucking eejit understands me clearly.

  “I know, I know. I’ll get it for you, I promise. You’ll have to wait till I get out, I don’t have fuck all in here,” he rambles on.

  Perry is a straight up smack head who will do anything for a fix, hence why he is in here. I made the mistake last year thinking he had enough brain cells left to carry out a small job for me and paid him first off. He took my money and shot it in his arm and then disappeared into thin air. Until now.

  “When do you get out?”

  “I’ve got eleven months and three weeks left.”

  I plan on keeping my head down and getting out after half my sentence so I’ll be out before him as long as I stay out of trouble.

  “Did you think you could hide from me forever?”


  I can’t stand his stuttering, in a flash I’m across the small space between us shoving him up against the wall and wrapping my hands around his throat.

  “Believe it or not, I’m in a good mood so I’ll give you two choices,” I smirk, “Take a beating and have my money ready for me twenty-four hours after you get out and trust me, I’ll be waiting or I will sell your arse everyday we’re in here together until your debt is paid and if that happens I will start adding interest.”

  I’m not threatening him and he knows it. It’s a fucking promise. One show of going soft and your weaknesses are laid bare for every fucker to see and in my world that will get you killed.

  “The first one,” he cries, squeezing his eyes closed waiting for the first blow.

  “A wise decision. Don’t worry, I’m not going to touch you now. Nope, I’m going to leave you hanging.”

  I let go of him and he slumps to his knees, wheezing getting his breath back.

  “Watch your back Perry,” I laugh, pushing the door to our cell open.

  The halls are buzzing with inmates and I clock every face, looking out for familiar faces and new faces.

  This place doesn’t scare me like it is intended to. I crunch my knuckles and jog down the metal, paint chipped stairs and head for the rec room.

  I’ll get this sentence over with and then I’m heading for the last town I was in when the shit hit the fan. The town where Cammie lives. She doesn’t know it but I’m going back for her and she will be mine until I figure out what draws me to her, regardless of any obstacles in my way.

  Part One

  Chapter One

  It was a hot and muggy night in August 2002 when my friend, Lorna Jessop, dragged me out for a drink to our local pub. In her five inch heels and red mini dress she stood out like an Eskimo in a heatwave. Whereas I was dressed in my favourite pastel yellow summer dress and my cute wedges I managed to find in the sale last week.

  You could smell the rain was coming, everyone was hoping for a thunderstorm to clear the air.

  “Come on, Cam. I don’t want to get wet,” Lorna said, tugging me by the hand as we neared the pub entrance.

  Heaven forbid her hair should get a little wet as the first rain drops begin to fall. We burst through the door and all heads turned to stare at us, or more like, Lorna. Wherever we went she got attenti
on, she gave them no choice. She liked to be seen and heard and when she set her eyes on a guy, she would make him hers for however long she wanted him for.

  Most of our nights out ended with her taking a guy back to her place and me ordering a taxi for myself, alone.

  Hence why this night she had to drag me out. I didn’t have the energy to play gooseberry. She didn’t need me here to have fun, if anything, she has more fun without me around. I’m glad I went because it was this night that I woke up and began to see that I was worth something. The night was passing like it usually does, myself sitting at the bar while Lorna flirted her way through a game of pool. Leaning over the table as her dress hitched higher up her thighs, she gives the rest of the pub an eyeful. I love her to pieces, she has been my best friend since we first started school and childhood neighbours until she moved into her own flat five years ago.

  She wanted me to move in with her so we could split the bills, but my father expressed his opinion on the matter and it wasn’t encouraging. As much as I wanted to move out from under my father’s roof, I couldn’t pass up the free rent. Living for free was the only reason I was still living at home at the age of twenty-three. It was this night that changed everything, nothing would ever be the same, I would never be the same.

  Lorna’s musical laughter is the only sound I let seep through the invisible bubble I put myself in as I sit at the bar. As long as I can hear her I know she is okay. I would do anything for her but my patience is wearing out. As much as I don’t want to go home and listen to how much of a disappointment I am from my father, all I want to do is curl up in my bed and drift off to sleep.

  Until I hear his voice, deep and low close to my ear. From that moment, there wouldn’t be another voice that could make me shiver from chills as well as shiver from his heat.

  I didn’t see how close he was to me until he spoke. I didn’t know he was there at all. With how busy the pub is tonight and me propping up the bar not really wanting to be here, I have been shoved and crammed into people all night trying to order their drinks. Once he spoke they all faded into the background and I no longer wanted to go home.

  “You shouldn’t let them knock you around like that.”

  His close proximity made it difficult for me to turn and look at him, but I was desperate to put his face to the deep, strong and confident voice I heard.

  The owner of the voice steps back, forcing the guy on his other side further up the bar giving us more room.

  It’s him.

  The guy I have been thinking about for over six months. I have been fantasising about him from the first time he walked through the coffee shop door where I work. I haven’t seen him around for months, he just disappeared but now he’s back and he’s standing beside me.

  His dark brown hair looks a little longer than the last time I saw him and he looks like he has bulked out as if he has been working out in the gym solidly for months.

  I could always see he had dark brown, nearly black eyes before, but up close they were shining as he looked down at me on my bar stool and his lips curled up in appreciation.

  I should say something, I really, really should, yet my mouth was dry.

  “Can I get you a drink?” he asks, leaning against the wooden bar.

  I would guess he’s around my age, twenty-three, or a little older. His confidence exudes from him and it pulls me in, gripping me in a vice.

  I clear my throat and say, “A vodka and coke please.”

  He smiles and turns his attention to the barman. While he waits for our drinks to be served, I use the time to take him in properly. He truly is gorgeous, not like the guys who live around town. His accent sounds like he’s from London but he looks like he could be Italian. His olive toned skin defines his broad jawline and makes him look strong.

  “Shall we grab that table before someone else does?” he asks, jerking his chin to the corner of the pub.

  I nod quickly and follow behind him when he heads for the table. His strides are long and when people see him making his way through they let him pass. It isn’t only me who can feel his confidence. It even feels a little like danger. His looks have distracted me from the dangerous air about him that everyone else seems to see in him as we pass.

  He places my drink on the small circular table so my seat is in the corner and away from the possibility of being knocked into again while he places his drink opposite mine.

  Once we are both seated, we both take a large sip of our drinks to fill the silence. It isn’t an awkward silence between us, it strangely feels comfortable.

  “I don’t normally see you in here,” I state, starting up the conversation.

  “I’m not from around here, I’m only here for the night before I head home,” he says.

  “Where is home? If you don’t mind me asking?”


  “You’re quite away from home then, what brings you to our part of the country?” I ask, unaware I am being completely intrusive into this stranger’s life.

  “Apart from you?” he smirks, making me laugh not taking him serious, “I got out of prison this morning not far from here and I wanted to see you.”

  He slowly tilts his head and his eyes quizzes mine waiting for my reaction. There are many questions I want to ask, like the first being why am I still sitting here when he has just admitted he has been in prison. Instead, I ask, “Why were you in prison?”

  I haven’t flinched or inclined that I disapprove so far and this seems to make him happy.

  “Because I’m not a good guy, the law and I don’t agree on how I should earn my money.”

  His honesty knocks me back and yet I find it refreshing at the same time.

  “How long was you inside for?” I ask.

  “Seven months. Miraculously, I made it out after completing half my sentence as I managed to stay out of trouble.”

  Hearing this I let out a long sigh of relief. I had wondered why he hadn’t been in the shop and now I know why.

  “I wondered where you disappeared to when you didn’t come back in the shop,” I tell him and quickly, taking another sip of my drink.

  “So, you remember me then?” he asks, slightly narrowing his eyes. I’ve amused him.

  “Of course I do,” I stop myself from blurting out something that will embarrass me, and add, “I’m good at remembering faces, that’s all,” I lie.

  His face is the only one that has stuck in my mind.

  He nods but something about the way he smiles tells me he doesn’t believe my lie and knows exactly the effect he has on me.

  “I have a question for you,” he says, moving his glass across the table to make room for him to lean his arms on.


  “Are you a good girl or do you like to push the boundaries and see how far your limits can go?”

  “I’m whatever I need to be when I need to be,” I blurt out.

  I realise that’s the truth. I have always done what I need to in order to cope or make it through certain situations. I never set out to break the rules but I don’t believe in being someone you’re not and acting a certain way just because that is how someone else wants you to be.

  “Perfect answer,” he grins, and I find myself leaning on the table too, not leaving much room between us.

  “Another?” he asks, picking up my now empty glass.

  I smile and watch him walk to the bar. I am transfixed on him and don’t notice when Lorna stumbles into his chair and snaps her fingers in my face.

  “Who is he?” she asks, fanning herself dramatically.

  “That’s the guy from the coffee shop I told you about months ago, the one who disappeared.”

  She looks round to him and he is watching us. She turns back to me.

  “No wonder you didn’t forget him, he’s gorgeous. Where did he disappear to?”

  I go to answer her but I hold back at the last moment. We have had quite a few bad boyfriends and one night stands between us in the past so I’m no
t ashamed if she knew he had just got out of prison. However, a part of me wants to keep the little information I do have on him to myself a little while longer. So I lie.

  “He works away.”

  “Maybe he can be the one to finally put a smile on your face now he’s back, you’re not going to let him leave alone are you?” she asks.

  “I haven’t been that bad and I don’t know, I’ll see how it goes. Now, go. He’s coming back,” I say quietly but urgently.

  “Calm down Cam, I only came over to see if you will be okay getting home? Terry wants me to go back to his,” she smirks, flashing a suggestive smile.

  I wouldn’t guess Terry was her type. She usually goes for stocky, well-built blokes. Terry is the opposite, slim but not overly skinny and gawky looking.

  “I’ll make sure she gets home safe.”

  We look up to find…, it dawns on me that I don’t know his name. He has managed to capture me with onyx eyes and alluring smile and it never occurred through my fogged filled brain to ask his name.

  For once, my best friend has nothing to say. She quickly smiles at me and gives me the eye, silently telling me to call her tomorrow. I smile back and she leaves. I watch Terry who has always had a thing for Lorna throw his arm around her shoulders and lead her out of the pub.

  “Does your friend do that often?” He asks, taking his seat and passing my drink over.

  “Do what?” I ask, shaking my head slightly to clear my mind.

  “Leave you alone in a pub to go home with a guy?”

  “It’s not uncommon, but I can look out for myself and I always manage to get home in one piece.”

  “I’m sure you do,” he grins.

  The silence returns but again, it isn’t awkward. In fact, it is compelling. I see his eyes drinking me in, trying to figure me out just by looking at me and I am more than happy to do the same to him.

  “I have another question for you,” he says, breaking the silence.

  At this point he can ask me anything.