Page 61 of Arran's Obsession

I squinted, confused. “I thought we were going back to the city?”

“We are. This won’t take long. There’s someone I need to see.”

“Another woman to screw over?”

“Something like that.”

A short while on, and we came to a pair of gateposts. I could just make out the house name engraved on the stone.Kendrick Manor.

I’d never heard the name, but something crawled over my skin, and I cringed in the seat. “What is this place?”

Again, no answer came my way, and we entered an avenue of trees, emerging into a park like the one in the house we’d just come from. Except for one huge difference. There was no house at the end of the road, only shadowy rubble and stones. It spread over a huge site, and it was clear that whatever property had been here before had been sprawling. And recently destroyed.

Arran parked up and climbed from the car. I followed suit, gazing in wonder at the ruin. Now we were right in front of it, I made out the shapes of rooms. Maybe towers from the circular bases. It had to have been a stately home, some place really grand. Huge blocks had fallen and tumbled, the grey stone an unkind shade but scorch marks cluing me in to what happened.

It felt like a place of darkness. Even weeds didn’t grow in it. Nearby trees had been burned to blackened stumps.

Fire had consumed it all.

What had Cassie told me about her brother? That he’d burned down their home? I’d seen him casually spark a lighter, too. Was this his work or was that Arran’s claim?

For a minute, my captor stared straight ahead, something shifting in his posture. He stood taller, shoulders back and chest out, something so lost in his expression that a pang of emotion broke free inside me. Stepping carefully, I made my way to him. Then like a damn fool, I took his hand and held it in mine.

Arran sucked in a breath. He broke his stare off with the ruin and switched his gaze to me.

“Why is this place important?” I asked. “What happened here?”

Instead of answering, because nothing could ever be that simple, he grasped my cheek and fitted his mouth to mine. He kissed me, with no second of warning or to give me space to process it. He’d said no kissing. We’d had a limit on the free use.

I didn’t give a damn.

Hunger roared, and I kissed him back, just as hard, even more urgent, our mouths clashing in perfectly imperfect presses.

Then a sound pierced my consciousness. A rumble of tyres behind us had him spinning around. Another car was coming down the avenue.

A pale-coloured saloon car with an unlit siren on top.

From the irritation in Arran’s expression, the incomer was bad news. Taking me with him, he jogged to the left side of the destroyed house where woodland started. At the edge of the trees, he pushed me to continue. “Follow the line of trees in this direction. Don’t use your torch and don’t stop until you come to a small fenced-off area.”

The engine sound grew louder, the headlights sweeping around the curve.

I shot my attention back to Arran, suddenly afraid. “Who is it? Why do I have to run?”

“Someone I don’t want to see you. Now go.”

He walked away and stabbed at his phone, lifting it to speak, hostility infecting him. I set my head down and entered the forest.

Trying to keep in a straight line was almost impossible.

I jumped at the flight of a small creature, then a twig snapped under my foot, jolting fear through my heart. Clamping my hand over my mouth, I kept moving, focusing on the line of trees so I didn’t lose my path.

Darkness swallowed me. My pulse raced.

Any manner of things could happen. The unwanted visitor could hurt Arran. They could hunt me after and I wouldn’t have a clue what happened to him. I could get lost in the woods and never find my way back to him. On the drive out here, there had been no other houses. Not a speck of light for miles.

I stepped on, dodging ghostly limbs and stumbling on the uneven ground. In my head, I started my alphabet game, picking countries as my topic.A is for Angola, B for Botswana, C is Canada.

A crunch sounded nearby.

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