Page 15 of Obsession

My excitement is quickly doused when Hans discovers the brand on Maggie’s hip. I’m shocked when I see the scar on her flesh. I stare at the monitor as Hans lovingly moves down her body and kisses the burned skin, trailing his fingers along the raised edges.

“Does it still hurt?” he asks softly.

Does it still hurt? Of course it hurts, you moron.

They marked her when she got her first period. Those monsters see women as nothing more than possessions. They only protect them from rape after their menstrual cycle starts because that’s when they become capable of getting pregnant.

I laugh bitterly at the fucking mental gymnastics of the lunatics. They marry off women on their twenty-first birthday for appearance’s sake, so the world believes their cult isn’t breaking any laws. Look at us, offering a traditional, wholesome way of life. What the world doesn’t know is that this cult of barbariansalso touches children in ways they should never be touched. And brands them to avoid unwanted pregnancies. Wouldn’t look too good if a twelve-year-old was knocked up. That would give the government reason to barrel through their doors and fuck up all their shit. Although, I’m not sure any government entity gives a fuck about child abuse since so many states allow children to marry.

My mother had a brand. In my mother’s case, the branding didn’t stop my sperm donor from assaulting her. I wouldn’t be in this situation had The Covenant punished the man who violated her. I might have even believed that The Covenant was the righteous path to God. Unfortunately—fortunately?—that wasn’t my outcome. I was raised by a man who believed in righteous retribution for a woman he loved, a woman so broken that no matter what he did, nothing could repair the damage inflicted on her.

Those motherfuckers never expected the son of one of their cult's survivors to be raised with a burning hatred for everything they stand for. They didn’t consider that their actions would spark a chain reaction, shaping my upbringing in a way that would turn their past decisions into the very thing that haunts them now.

Harming a woman is the quickest way to set me off. I spent my life watching my mother wither away after the years of abuse she endured. She tried to get past all the trauma, but sadness always lingered behind her eyes. I didn’t understand why her smile never reached her eyes or the reason for her soft wails through the walls late at night. No, I didn’t understand until I was sixteen years old when I found her with blood and brain matter splattered around her, a gun resting in her open palm.

I tuck my cock back into my pants before heading out. I know I could be making a mistake with every step I take, but I don’t care how inappropriate my actions are. I need to be with them. The need is so consuming that it has me in a chokehold. If I don’t act on my wants, I’ll suffocate, wither, and die.

The Covenant took my childhood from me. They took my mother. They took my life. Now, I understand that The Covenant may have also taken my future.

CHAPTER 11

Xander

“Where are you going?” a deep voice asks in the darkness.

I turn, spotting Cyrus leaning against the wall. “I gotta take care of something.”

“You sound like you’re about to get into trouble.” He pushes off the wall and steps closer, his burned face illuminated by the moonlight. “I like trouble.”

Opening the closet hall, I pull out my coat. “I don’t think your wife wants you risking your life. I don’t have a plan, Cy. Just the blood pumping in my veins and a thirst for vengeance.”

Cyrus pulls out a silver zippo and flicks it open and closed. “I live for vengeance. I’m assuming we’re going after those sanctimonious preacher types from that backwoods cult?”

I nod, but no way am I letting this man take a risk that has nothing to do with him. “I don’t know if I’ll make it back, Cy. I can’t risk Azadeh losing you. Lord knows that girl has lost enough.”

“My woman has taken risks her whole life to protect others. She’ll understand.” Cyrus smiles. “She’ll probably gobble my dick like it’s the fuckin’ elixir of life when I tell her I helped to kill some religious zealots. There’s nothing my girl hates more than clergy. I can either ride with you or follow you in my car.”

We drive in silence until we reach the clearing. “We gotta park here. Any closer, and they’ll hear the truck. These fuckers have snipers, and the place is wired. You gotta be quiet, Cy. Like a fuckin’ church mouse.”

Cyrus presses his hand to his heart as if he’s wounded. “I’m fuckin’ quiet.”

Cyrus Porter is many things, but quiet isn’t one of them.

We get out of the truck, both of us dressed in dark clothes.

I rummage through my duffle in the cab and toss him a balaclava. “Put this on.”

Cyrus twirls the fabric on his finger. “This shit cramps my style.” He points to his face, covered in scar tissue. “Look at this mug. Why would I want to cover this handsome ass face?”

“I don’t want them fucking tracing anything back to us, you idiot.” I toss him a pair of gloves. “Put these on too. Azadeh said you’re good at this shit, but here you are, wanting to go in guns blazing.”

Cyrus lights the zippo. “More like flames blazing.”

I pull on my holster before securing my hunting knife to my hip. Come Hell or high water, Gabriel is going to meet his maker. Tonight.

The lights are off in the house. How the fuck do these animals sleep so soundly when they commit every fucking atrocity known to humankind? I’m not sure who’s worse, Sonya or Gabriel. The fuckers should be out searching for their missing children, but they only care about themselves.

I grip the window and relief washes over me to discover it’s unlocked. You’d think the fuckers would secure Maggie’s window. Cyrus and I climb, tiptoeing through Margarete’s room and down the hall. My hand shakes as I grip the frigid handle and slowly open the main bedroom door.

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