Page 99 of Obsession

Ever.

And yes… I trust him.

But down in the living room, with the cinnamon-scented pinecones decorating the mantle, and pumpkin spice everything being cooked up in the kitchen… it reminds me that Christmas is coming.

My parents were killed at Christmas.

I feel as if the days are passing like sand through an hourglass, and I’m not sure where we’ll be when the last grain of sand falls.

After we secured Skylar, I made a promise to Cain, and I always keep my promises.

I remember the conversation well. He was sitting in his office when he beckoned to me. He explained how he would help me find my parents and what he’d ask from me in return.

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you.”

“Me?”

“You.All of you.Carte blanche to do whatever I want to you, whenever I want to. Anytime, anywhere.”

“I have the distinct feeling I’d… both hate and love every minute of what you’d do to me… yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, Cain. I accept your terms. I’m yours.”

And I’ve given him…me. All of me. Over, and over, and over again, and no, it hasn’t been painful. Ours is a uniquerelationship, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before, and it honestly goes far beyond mere sex.

There’s an intensity to Cain I crave. A fearlessness. One might label him an “alpha male,” but that only scrapes the very surface of who he really is.

What he really does.

Cain Master is a man in a camp of his own.

And I prided myself on understanding that. On understandinghim.

At what cost?

Has he used me? Has he kept me here with him for companionship, never fully intending on helping me find my parents’ killer?

Or… has he found that there’s nothing but dead ends?

I don’t know what to expect. I don’t know what to hope for.

I don’t even know if I’m ready to face my parents’ murderer, but I know it was what brought me here, right to his doorstep, ready to barter.

I didn’t have the money he charged for a job like this. All I had to offer him was me.

My skills. My talents.

My body.

I never planned on whoring myself out, but now that I’m here…

No. No, I won’t let my mind go there.

Cain’s huge, rambling mansion of a house overlooks the Salem waterfront north of Boston. This time of year, the leaves have mostly fallen, leaving stark branches that warn of cold winter days and impending snow and ice, but a few brilliant orange maple leaves still cling with tenacity to low-hanging limbs. Cain brushes past them, and a few more flutter to the ground.

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