Page 79 of Blades of Obsession

Peering through the crack, all the air leaves my lungs when I see her. She’s chained to the bed, her face a little pale, but she still looks as beautiful as ever. Seeing her gives me a surge of energy, lighting a fire up under me. It feels like a physical weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

I quickly tear off the boards with my bare hands, eager to hurry up and touch her. Kiss her. Hug her. Smell her rose scent that I’ve been dying without. The window isn’t that high, so I’m able to climb inside easily.

At first, she shrinks back against the headboard, her brows scrunched tight. My head-to-toe gear includes a black headpiece that covers half my face. But as she gradually realizes it’s me, her fear melts into a smile that lights up the room like the sun breaking through a storm. The smile also manages to break through the storm that’s been brewing in my chest.

When I finally reach her, I pull her into a tight hug, our rapid heartbeats syncing against each other.

“Aiden…” she whispers.

“I’m here. I’m here.” The chains clink softly as she moves to wrap her arms around me, but I stop her. “Shh… we gotta be quiet. Here, let me take these off.” I pull out the heavy-duty boltcutters from my kit—I often need them to cut through locks and chains on missions. With a grunt of effort, I snap through the metal links, freeing her. And within a second, she’s in my arms again, this time clinging to my neck.

For a fleeting moment, nothing else matters. Until reality sets back in. The danger is still real. I take her necklace out of my pocket and place it around her neck, where it belongs. Where it’ll always belong and I’ll make sure it never leaves its rightful place again.

“Stay here,” I whisper gently. “Don’t move until I come back.”

She nods. I give her one last look before moving silently through the house. Every step is deliberate, every breath controlled. I reach the kitchen and peer around the corner. Some ex-con looking dude with tattoos covering every inch of his body is sitting at the table. I take him out the same way I did the guy outside. And keep moving.

The sound of a woman’s voice, along with Jacob’s, reaches my ears. I edge closer, listening from behind the living room wall.

“Please, Jacob,” she begs. “Let her go. She doesn’t deserve this.”

Hm, maybe I should spare her life.

The woman catches sight of me as I step into the living room, her eyes widening. I put a finger to my lips, signaling her to stay quiet. Jacob’s back is to me, like a small guppy fish unaware there’s a shark right behind him.

I move to the side of the couch, positioning myself at an angle to shoot his leg. He doesn’t deserve to die just yet—not until I’ve had my fun with him. He cries out, collapsing to the floor in agony. The sound brings me pure fucking happiness. When he looks up, surprise and pain are evident on his face as he clutches his wounded leg.

Before I can speak, a scream pierces the air. I spin around to see Amelia standing in the doorway, her face a mask of horror as she covers her mouth with both hands. I can’t tell if it’s the sight of blood or seeing someone get shot that’s horrified her.

“Amelia!” I say in a growl. But then I remember, I can’t raise my voice with her like her father does. So I speak softly when I say, “I told you to stay in the room.”

I glance at Jacob, writhing on the floor, then back at the woman, her mouth agape as she looks between us. Taking a step towards Amelia, I grab her arm gently but firmly. “You need to get to the car.”

“But—” She snatches her arm away.

I grab it again, rougher this time. “What are you doing?”

She points to the woman. “My mom has to come with me.”

Her mom?

Okay, now that I’m really looking, they do look just alike. Her mom couldn’t have been more than nineteen when she had her, she still looks pretty young. And her dad is almost sixty, which means that disgusting pig preyed on a college student in his late thirties.

What the hell is she doing here in a remote cabin in Colorado, working for Jacob? Last I heard, she was with her sister in California somewhere. John had been tracking her movements.

“Are there any more people here besides the guy out front and the tattooed guy in the kitchen?” I ask her mom, and she shakes her head. I turn to Amelia. “Take her with you and go–”

A scream splits the air, ringing in my ears. “Amelia, duck!” her mom yells.

Instinct takes over. I don’t even think twice or look back to see what we’re ducking from. I tackle Amelia, pulling her tothe ground just as a knife flies past us, embedding itself into the wall. Jacob’s hand is outstretched from where he threw it.

My heart pounds wildly—one more second and it could’ve hit her right through the chest. A fit of anger surges through me, so intense I start shaking. He tried to fucking hurt her, again. I rise to my feet and fire at him. The bullet tears into his arm.

My voice is rough with urgency, but I speak to her mom so I don’t have to raise my voice at Amelia. “You need to take her to the car.Now!”

I text Asher to meet them at the front door, keeping my eyes on them just long enough to confirm he’s got them safely. Jacob is a bloody mess, barely recognizable, but he’s still writhing, still moving. That means he can still feel pain, and that’s all that matters.

Where should I start? That’s the million-dollar question. I know hundreds of ways to torture a person. And I know which ones hurt the most because I’ve been through most of them myself. With everything in me, I want to sit here for days brutalizing him until hebegsme to off him, but I want to hurry and get back to Amelia more.

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