Page 44 of Obsession

“After today? Not something I wanna risk.”

I should’ve duct taped her to her seat and made her come home with me.

“I’ll join you. You taking the Audi?” His eyes gleam, hoping I am.

“Hell yes.”

The truck is good for an ambush, for safety, for a potential shoot-out. But when I have to get somewherefast? I take the Audi. It goes from zero to sixty in 2.8 seconds and drives up to twohundred seventeen miles per hour. It’s swift, takes corners with agility, but is small and sleek enough not to cause too much attention if I’m careful.

Her apartment is twenty-five minutes away according to GPS. We’ll get there in ten.

“What are you packing?” Joe asks. We step into the room we affectionately call the armory, where our weapons are securely and discreetly stored.

“Ruger and a blade. You?”

The Ruger EC9 functions as one of the best compact concealed pistols money can buy, small and sleek but lethal.

“EC9. Which blade?”

“MK3.” I take it from its sheath and give it a quick look-over. “Are there any others?” The Ontario MK3’s a standard Navy SEAL weapon, six inches of hardened steel perfection finished with a solid, ergonomic handle that doesn’t slip. It hides as easily as a shadow but cuts hard and deep and fast.

I won’t be throwing my blade like Violet.

Goddammit, I never should’ve let her stay at her own place.

I should’ve insisted. I should’ve reasoned better with her. Instead, I let her have her way, and now what?

I call security again but get nothing.

“Swear to God,” I mutter under my breath. “If they don’t have a good reason not to pick up this phone…”

I don’t finish the sentence. Joe blanches and looks out the window as I drive so damn fast, rocks fly behind us, the groundwhizzing past in a blur. I call Violet and Henri one at a time, over and over.

My phone buzzes with a text. I look quickly at the screen, but it isn’t any of the people I want to hear from.

Armand: Boss, I think I found something of importance.

I don’t respond. I don’t have time for his bullshit right now. I would’ve fired him if I hadn’t gotten distracted by Skylar’s abduction.

“Tomorrow, you fire Armand’s ass,” I tell Joe.

He freezes but doesn’t respond at first. I look over at him, and he seems to snap out of his stupor. “Armand?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, sir. Will do.”

I fill him in on everything, even why I’m here to check on her.

“Just so we’re clear, sir. She was texting you, you asked if she was okay, and she didn’t respond.”

“Correct.”

He seems to be mulling this over.

“Could she… have fallen asleep?”

I curse under my breath and push the gas pedal deeper. The roads whiz by us like they’re on speed.

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