Page 70 of King of Obsession

After an age, she spoke. ‘Fine.’

The single word was clipped, choppy, and laced with a venom that made me flinch. But it was a concession, however grudging, even as guilt continued to gnaw at my insides.

I had a long way to go to make amends and earn back the trust I had shattered, but for now, I had to focus on the task at hand.

I jerked my chin towards her, a silent command, before stalking over to her still-smoking truck.

As I approached, the acrid stench of burnt rubber assaulted my nostrils, a stark reminder of the chaos that had unfolded mere moments ago.

With a grunt, I reached through the open window, grasping the steering wheel with one hand while the other found the clutch.

The muscles in my arm strained as I maneuvered the vehicle, my shoulder aching, and I hissed as the torture of it wentthrough me.

I took it as my penance. Sweat beaded on my brow, a combination of the physical exertion and the simmering tension that hung in the air.

As I worked, I could feel her eyes boring into my back, watching my every move. I didn’t need to turn around to know that her arms were crossed over her chest, a defensive posture that screamed her lingering anger and distrust.

With a final heave, I pushed the ute out of the way, clearing a path for my vehicle. I stepped back, wiping my hands on my jeans, and turned to face her.

She stood silhouetted against the stunning backdrop of the rising sun. The golden rays painted the distant ranges in breathtaking colors, but I took no notice.

My attention was focused on her, on the way the light caught the fiery glint in her eyes and her jaw clenched with suppressed fury.

Damn, even in wrath, she was a goddess.

The fog rose from the ground, tendrils of mist curling around my ankles as I marched past her.

Mocking me, the birds began their morning song, their melodic trills starkly contrasting our tense silence.

I entered the shed, the musty scent of old wood and rusting metal assaulting my nostrils, and slid into my SUV.

The engine roared to life.

I reversed the car out, the tires crunching over the gravel.

Turning in a tight circle, I pulled up beside her.

She stood, arms still crossed, her gaze fixed on some distant point, refusing to meet my eyes. I lowered the window, the cool morning air rushing in, carrying the smell of dew-soaked grass and the faint promise of redemption.

‘Get in,’ I said, my voice rough, the words scraping past the lump in my throat. ‘Per favore.’

She hesitated, her jaw clenching, before she yanked open the passenger door and slid inside, slamming it shut with a force that made me wince.

I shifted into drive, and we rolled down the dirt road, the silence between us thick and oppressive.

My shoulder ached in a dull throb that pulsed in time with the migraine building behind my eyes.

Still, I drove on, jaw clenched, needing to get this shit over and done with.

The neighboring farm soon appeared, a picturesque scene of rolling hills and a red-roofed farmhouse nestled amid the lush greenery.

I pulled up to the front, the gravel crunching beneath the tires, and cut the engine.

Slicing my eyes to her, I found her gazing at me with pure disdain.

She unlocked the door, the sudden movement startling me from my self-flagellation. ‘Stay here,’ she said, her voice colder than the morning air. ‘I won’t be long.’

She marched towards the farmhouse, her shoulders squared, her head held high.

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