Page 75 of Blades of Obsession

I’ve got to pull myself together. I collapse onto the couch and dial Asher’s number. Thankfully, he answers on the first ring. I don’t think I would’ve been able to wait even a second longer.

“You have to track that motherfucker’s car. Where is it registered? His computer. His fucking smartwatch. Where did he last use his credit cards? Something. Anything,” I demand, my breathing heavy and words rushing out.

“Whoa, calm down.”

Calm down? If he were here in person, I’d gouge his eyes out for telling me to calm down.

“I’m at John’s. My setup is here, come over.”

“An hour? You want me to sit in the car for a fucking hour before I can find out—you know what.” I take a deep breath and hang up the phone.

I don’t wait. I don’t think. I just move. Before I know it, I’m in the car. By myself. Driving myself. Crazy, right? Before Amelia came along, I didn’t drive for the better part of two years. But I never thought twice about getting behind the wheel for her. On dates. Dropping her off at class. And now, tearing down the road to John’s house.

The entire ride is a blur of speed and fury. I’m not even sure if I stopped correctly at stop signs, but who the hell cares?

When I burst through John’s front door and head up to his office, I nearly break the elevator button because it’s so damn slow. He really needs to update this place. Asher already has tech shit set up, multiple screens flashing with I don’t know what on them. Maps. Tracking data. Whatever.

“What did you get?” I rush out.

“I’m working on it,” Asher replies. “I’m tracking a phone he saved in the network from three years ago. It’s the same phone but different hardware, so it’s taking a while.”

John steps into the room, a smug smile on his face. “Funny. You ruined my plans to use Asher for my needs, and now you need him. Oh, how the tables turn.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your sick ex-wife. You can go shoot her with a gun for all I care right now.”

Asher glances up from his typing. “Don’t... don’t give him any ideas, please.”

“You know what,” I say, turning to John.“Now that you’re here, I remember something. This is all your fucking fault.”

“My fault?” He laughs.

He fucking laughs, and it sends something violent surging through my veins. I crash everything off his desk in one swift motion. Papers scatter and a vase shatters to the floor. Fuck him and this damn office.

“Yes! Your fault!” I shout. “Jacob did this to get revenge for me killing Eli. Whichyoumade me do. Probably for no good fucking reason either. Before he died, he told me he was innocent.”

“I made you? Huh. You didn’t seem to mind when millions of dollars hit your bank accounts every year. Or when I gave you every single thing you asked for, no matter how ridiculous. I mean, forcing a woman to be with you? C’mon. But now that there are consequences, suddenly Imadeyou kill. Well, if you’re going to be a leader then you’ll need to understand every action has consequences, whether you want them to or not. And it’s best you plan ahead for them, instead of whining when they come.”

I want to punch him, to feel my fist connect to the bone of his face, to hear the sickening crack of his jaw. I clench my teeth, forcing myself to stay focused. “How much longer, Ash?”

“It’s about—”

My phone rings, interrupting him mid-sentence. I’m ready to swipe ignore when I freeze. It’sthatnumber—the one I’ve dialed a hundred times over the past two days, only to be met with a line disconnected message. My heart stutters, hope and dread colliding as I stare at the screen, hardly able to breathe.

“Where is she?” I grit out.

“Ten million, or she dies.”

I take a deep breath, grounding myself as I fight the anger bubbling beneath the surface. Losing my cool with him now would only put Amelia in more danger. With a forced calm and steady voice, I ask, “Which account?”

“Northshore.”

“Let me talk to her. How do I know you haven’t already killed her?”

There’s a pause, followed by a loud, reverberating smack, and then Amelia’s scream tears through the line. My legs give out, and I collapse into the nearest chair, unable to stand after hearing that sound.

“Is that proof enough?”

“If you touch her, I swear I’ll cut off your dick.”

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