Page 15 of Obsession

Dead man walking.

The sardonic term echoed in his head, although crouched against the wall, Tucker wasn’t even managing to do that much.

Pulling in air, he lifted his chin, determined to look into the eyes of the man about to exterminate him in the shitty concrete bunker, but as the assailant neared, his dark clothes were eerily familiar.

“Get down, Bowman!”

Time moved in slow motion as Collins emerged from the gloom, his weapon returning fire as, waiting for a break in shots, he burst into the room.

Clutching his shoulder, Tucker braced, somehow unable to grasp how Collins had known to come to his rescue. He’d been outside of the bunker, only there to cover Tucker in the eventuality of his failure.

Brows knitting, he tried to recall how long he had to have been gone before Collins was instructed to act.

“Come on!” Collins barked the order as he exited the room. “I got him. He’s dead.”

“What?”

Maybe it was the blood loss, but nothing seemed to add up as Collins yanked him to his feet and dragged him back along the godforsaken hallway.

He pushed the nagging queries to the back of his mind as he stumbled behind Collins, grateful to be alive, yet still all too aware that they weren’t safe until they were clear of the entire enemy complex.

Tucker didn’t know how he and Collins made it out. Even years later, he couldn’t conclude anything except confusion and possible treachery.

At the moment, it had hardly mattered. As his lungs tasted the fresh air of freedom, all he could focus on was his hopes for a life still to come and the wooden cabin he was going to build in the forest.

His last conscious thought before his knees gave way, and he landed face-first back into the mud was of those woods. Of the trees reaching down to shield him, their roots lifting him to an untold sanctuary.

The woodland was home.

It was the future.

Chapter Six

Fall Out

Ella

Ella slept like the dead. Or, at least, she rested the way she imagined death to be—deep and all-consuming. There were dreams. Nothing but warmth and black and, if she wasn’t mistaken, a sense of contentment.

The reassuring solace lingered when her eyelids fluttered open, the wooden ceiling not immediately as disconcerting as it should have been. The first thing she was really aware of was how full her bladder was, and how, if she didn’t make it to a bathroom soon, she’d be in trouble.

Rolling to one side, her brow furrowed. Something prevented her completion of the task, her left side hindered, although she couldn’t decide why. Her arms were by her side and there was no obvious reason for the limb’s delay. It took a moment of concentration for her to ascertain that there was something tied around not one but both wrists, and it was this bind that stopped her from moving freely.

“What the?” She tugged harder at her left wrist, frustrated at her predicament and conscious suddenly that wherever she was, she was naked.

In that instance, a thousand recollections of the last day fell into place, slicing into her consciousness like knives.

Tucker!

Her heart picked up its pace. The man had collected her from the forest. He was holding her captive, and no matter how hard she tried, he always seemed able to find her. Cold dread reverberated through her head, goosing her skin as she recalled their most recent interaction. An image of his face filled her mind’s eye as he leaned over her, his fingers coaxing her to one of the most intense orgasms of her life.

Oh my God!

“There she is.”

Her body tensed at his voice, and she didn’t need to see his face to know he was smiling. The happiness was evident in his tone.

“Sleeping Beauty has woken up!” He appeared in her peripheral vision, grinning as he peered down at her. “How was your sleep?”

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