Page 72 of Dangerous Obsession

“Youshouldn’thaveinterruptedmy call the way you did.” Cliff slammed his hand between the girl’s shoulder blades.

She pitched forward and landed on her hands and knees. Before she could recover, he wrapped his fingers tight around her upper arm and started dragging her backward on her ass across the small, filthy room.

“Let go of me, you big jerk.” The little hellcat dug her nails into his hands in an effort to break his hold. She kicked her feet out at him and clipped his thigh.

“Fuck! Knock it off.” Cliff muscled her down onto a rickety wooden chair next to the main support pillar in the center of the space. “Put your hands behind your back.”

She ignored him and gave him the stink-eye. He yanked her arms behind her and zip-tied her wrists to the pole.

Getting to the cabin had been a royal pain in the ass. The only way to get back there was via a dirt road that was now overgrown and impassable. He’d had no choice but to park at the trailhead about a mile away.

The kid had made the one-mile hike seem like ten. At one point, she’d managed to slip free of his grasp, stumbled into some thorny bushes, and ended up with scratches across her cheeks. Her long hair was matted and all over the fucking place, and her sneakers, jeans, and long-sleeved shirt were caked with mud and pine needles after their grueling trek through the woods. Combine all of that with the bleeding gash on her lip from when he’d smacked her, and it made for a very powerful and effective visual.

“Tell me about Marigold’s friend.” The more he knew about the guy, the better prepared he would be.

Her fucking nose in the air, she stared at the grimy front window and acted as if she hadn’t heard him.

He drew back his hand, and with a resoundingSMACK, his palm connected to the side of her face for a second time. Her nostrils flared. She turned back with a defiant glower and spit blood onto the floor next to his boot.

Why did females insist on disobeying him? It was no wonder Marigold hired her—she possessed the same maddening, insolent nature as her boss.

“Let’s try this again, Shayna. ItisShayna, right?” He clamped his hand onto her face, forced her chin up, and made her look at him. “Tell me about the guy who’s hanging around Goldie.”

“Goldie? Seriously?” She twisted her head and jerked free of his hold. Some strands of hair stuck to the blood on her face. “Marigoldhired him as a security guard after the boutique was robbed.” Shayna made a point to emphasize the name.

“Now, now, Shayna. You really shouldn’t lie to me. Security guards don’t touch their employers the way he was touching Goldie.” And they definitely didn’t look at each other the way those two were.

She’d sure as hell never look at Cliff that way.

“How would I know? She’s my boss, not my friend.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s not like she tells me all about her love life or whatever.” She lifted her shoulder, turned her head, and swiped the blood from her face onto her shirt.

“I need to call her back, but first …” He did a complete three-hundred-sixty-degree scan of the room, didn’t see what he needed, and stomped the few feet to the kitchen. One after the other, he yanked out the drawers and dumped their meager contents on the floor. “This will do.” He plucked up an old piece of cloth, shook it out, and dust floated up to irritate his nose.

“No way.” Disgust widened her eyes as he approached. “You are not putting that gross thing anywhere near me.”

“I beg to differ.” He clapped his hand over her forehead and pushed. The back of her head thumped against the pillar, and he held her in place.

The kid was disoriented long enough for him to wedge the cloth between her lips and teeth. He wrapped it around the back of her head and knotted it tightly.

“That ought to shut you up.” He swiped his hands on his jeans, leaving behind a swath of blood, dust, and mud.

Her face turned beet-red when she released a muted scream, and she contorted her mouth in a failed attempt to remove the gag. She thrashed back and forth, trying to break free.

“I’ve gotta give it to ya, kid, you’re a fighter.” He added a second set of zip ties to her wrists. Then he took out his phone, snapped a picture of her, and looked at it. “Perfect.” Confident she was secure, he said, “I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.”

Cliff laughed at his own joke as his bootsclunkedacross the wooden floor, causing it to vibrate with each step. He carefully navigated the stairs—careful to avoid the ones that had rotted away—turned back to the cabin, and scrutinized it for the first time.

“Jesus, what a shithole.” Shack would be a more apt description. He looked to the heavens. “Thanks a lot, old man.”

The forest had closed in all around the cabin, and ivy cloaked the sparsely shingled structure. The sheer weight of the dark green vines had dramatically bowed the center of the roof. Whitish-green moss appeared to be the only thing holding the plank siding in place, and a thick layer of grime covered the two front windows. The heavy door hung off-kilter, held in place by a lone hinge, and some of the slats on the small porch had decayed and fallen through.

Animals had gotten into the place, and piles of bear scat and other various kinds of animal shit littered the floor. The stench was foul to the point of unbearable.

The interior consisted of a main space with a ceiling that was now much lower than its original nine feet. An old iron bed was set against one wall, and the decaying and moldy mattress added to the rank odor. A small tree grew out of a potbellied woodstove in the corner.

A short peninsula separated that space from a kitchen area that couldn’t be more than nine or ten feet square. There was one upper cabinet, and both doors had fallen off and were scattered across the floor. A base cabinet held a rusted-out cast-iron sink with a hand water pump fed by a well that was nowhere near safe for human consumption after so many years of neglect.

Beneath the structure was a storage cellar that had always been a haven for spiders, snakes, rats, and any other wildlife seeking shelter. His skin crawled at the idea of going down there, but he remembered there were a couple of lanterns stored on a shelf with the canning supplies.

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