Page 83 of King of Obsession

Gritting my teeth against the pain in my shoulder, I palmed my gun and strode ahead. Whatever or whoever was lurking, they’d picked the wrong farm to mess with tonight.

Adrenaline surging through my veins, I advanced on the shadowy figure.

The rational part of my brain told me to stay back and assess the situation. But the primal, protective instinct that Cleo awakened in me propelled me forward.

As I drew closer, details emerged from the darkness.

It was a man hunched over something at the base of the fence—the dull gleam of metal in his hands.

Rage ignited in my gut.

I was only a few feet away now. The man was so intent on his subterfuge that he hadn’t discerned my approach.

I tagged the curve of his spine, the vulnerable nape of his neck. It would be so easy to end him here and now.

But first, I needed answers.

Stuffing my gun in my sweats, I closed the distance between us with a burst of speed and lunged, wrapping my good arm around his throat.

The man gave a startled yelp as I dragged him away from the barrier.

‘Who are you?’ I snarled, tightening my grip.

He thrashed against my hold, but I only squeezed harder, cutting off his air. ‘I suggest you start talking, fucker. Before I crush your windpipe.’

The man made a choked, gurgling sound, scrabbling at my hands with blunt nails. I eased up just enough for him to suckin a ragged breath.

‘Fabio.’

I curled my lip at the name. ‘Conti scum. What are you after?’

‘Fuck off,’ he wheezed.

I glanced at the fence and spotted for the first time a device wired to the generator housing that powered the surveillance network.

A crude bomb, my eye assessed.

Cold fury washed through me.

‘You were going to blow it up,’ I growled. ‘Disable the security system. Why?’

‘I had no choice!’ His voice was high and thin with panic. ‘He made me do it!’

‘Who did?’

‘My father. He sent the order from jail. We have to get the electric fence and network down so my brothers and I can retrieve his woman.’

I jolted. ‘What the fuck?’

Turning the man, I twisted his hands behind his back so I’d see his face in the weak moonlight.

I found him smirking at me, hatred shining in his eyes.

‘Don’t you know? Cleo is my father’s intended and soon-to-be wife.’

I lurched.

I wanted to roar, put my fist through something, and feel flesh and bone splinter beneath my knuckles. But I reined in the impulse, knowing I couldn’t afford to be ruled by anger.

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