Page 78 of Blades of Obsession

I’m still in the same outfit from the locker room—a white skirt and pink sweater. The thin skirt offers no protection to my poor knees on the hard floor, and the chill in the air makes me think we’re somewhere North of Albuquerque.

He unbuckles his belt, his intentions clear and vile. “Open your mouth,” he orders in a low growl.

I keep my jaw clenched and shake my head. His grip on my hair tightens as he unzips his pants and pulls himself out.

Was he always this small? I mean, I know I’m probably used to a larger size now, but he’s hard, and can’t be more than three or four inches. And that’s being generous. No wonder I never had an orgasm with him. That, and he always refused to go down on me the couple of times we did it.

He tugs on my hair with a sharp, forceful pull, pain shooting through my scalp. The sudden jolt tilts my head back and parts my lips, giving him the opening he needs. I don’t want him there. So I act on pure instinct—biting down hard until the faint taste of blood fills my mouth. A wave of nausea rises from the metallic taste, but I manage to hold my grip firm.

He screams in pain, the sound erupting from his throat like the desperate squawk of a dying chicken. “Son of a bitch!” He rips off his belt with a furious motion, the leather hissing through the air as he swings it at me. The lash lands on my stomach, sending a searing and intense torment through my body. I collapse to the ground, clutching my stomach as a tortured cry escapes my lips.

Outside the door, someone bangs hard, and when she speaks, I realize it’s my mother. “Jacob, leave her alone! Please, just give her time to settle in first! You owe me one!” Her voice is frantic as she continues banging on the old wood like cops looking for Malibu’s Most Wanted.

Jacob halts, breathing erratically, his eyes narrowed in fierce hatred. With a low, guttural grunt, he drives his foot into me, the force stealing the breath from my lungs. “You got lucky twice now. Three strikes and you’re out, I promise.” He turns and storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

The chains clink as I try to curl into myself, the cold metal biting into my skin and amplifying the harsh reality I’m in.

Why do I deserve this?

The door creaks open, and my mom rushes in. She kneels before me and gently lifts me off the floor, helping me back into the bed. Her arms wrap around me, and I bury my face into her chest, sobbing uncontrollably. She holds me tighter, stroking my hair.

I’d forgotten what it felt like to cry in my mother’s arms after a long day, and it’s a feeling I hope I never lose again.

Chapter 30

BLADE

I’m coming, angel, I’m coming.

Those words echo in my mind, a mantra driving me forward, preventing me from breaking down again.

The car engine hums beneath us as Asher and I race through the darkened streets. After what felt like hours of shouting back and forth, he finally found the signal. The moment he did, the weight in my mind lifted, letting me breathe without each breath hurting.

He tracked Jacob’s phone to a remote cabin in Colorado, and after five hours of driving, we’re just a few blocks away now. The only thing that kept me sane during the long ride was knowing we sent Jacob the money, which hopefully spared us some extra time.

We park a little way up the street, unsure of what we’re walking into. For the few short years I’ve known Jacob, he’s always been tough, smart, and conniving. Most people don’t think two steps ahead, making them easy to outsmart, but with Jacob, I’ll have to rely on the element of surprise.

Asher cuts the engine, and the sudden silence is deafening. The air is becoming thick again. Usually, I’m not anxious before a mission, but those times I didn’t have so much to lose. Even if I had lost my life, it still wouldn’t have come close to losing Amelia.

As we stalk closer, I see the place is a decrepit old cabin, the wood splitting and falling off the roof. According to tracking Jacob’s phone, he’s come here over a hundred times in the past two years, so it has to be some kind of headquarters. Which is why, when I’m done, I’ll burn it to the ground with him in it.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Asher blurts out, visibly shaking. I can feel his nerves radiating off him. I should’ve brought someone else—he’s built for tech and algorithms, not blood and death—but desperate times call for desperate measures.

“Don’t worry, you’re not gonna have to kill anyone. Hopefully. Get control of your nerves, that’s how you mess up. Just take a few breaths.”

“I’m sorry, not all of us can go on amurdermission after just taking a few breaths!”

“You know what? Go back to the car. You’ll be her driver home, and I’ll take an Uber. I’ll handle it myself. When I send you a signal, just come and collect her.” I keep my voice low as we’re approaching the cabin. He blows out a relieved breath. “Stay alert, though. If you see anyone else coming towards the house, text me immediately. Remember, I have all your texts being read aloud in my ear.”

He nods and carefully makes his way back up the street.

Before getting any closer, I inspect everything. First, the gun. Safety off, silencer securely attached, bullets fully loaded. Then, I check my bulletproof vest—straps adjusted perfectly, no deformities. After making sure all my tools are inventoried in my gear pockets, I’m ready.

I take one last moment to center myself. This is it. I’m finally getting her back.

A dark silhouette appears against the moonlight, a man stationed at the front of the cabin, smoking a cigarette. He’s sloppy, inattentive. No wonder Jacob needed that money, hecan’t even hire a decent guard. I move quickly, gun raised, squinting to get a perfect aim. With the silencer, the shot is barely a whisper in the night. The man crumples to the ground, thankfully without making much noise.

I advance to the side of the cabin. The ground is a mess, overgrown with waist-high grass and littered with trash. I’m one footstep away from getting caught in a bear trap, and I blow out a relieved breath, thanking the heavens that I missed it. My focus shifts to the window it’s under. You don’t place a trap unless it’s guarding something valuable. A sliver of light escapes from the window, peeking through the boards of wood nailed to the outside.

---