Page 20 of Brutal Obsession

The seeds of past trauma sprout in the soil of my mind.

Terror quivering in eyes as green as mine. Blood-soaked, nut-brown hair. My mother’s near-silent pleas as she begs for her life.

Harper stares at me the same way my mom stared at my dad, moments before I decided to kill him myself. Like I’m here to harm her.

That realization punches me in the heart.

I don’t know why her fear hurts because it shouldn’t. She’s smart to worry.

When Harper was seventeen, she was prom queen. When I was seventeen, I killed the man who sired me without a second thought.

Still, frustration erupts inside me like fucking lava when she whirls and sprints into a sea of tourists.

When Harper fled New York, I knew she was trying to escape her wedding. Hell,Iwas trying to escape her wedding. That’s how I ended up at the bar that night we kissed.

Her disappearance drove me absolutely nuts, but at the time, it wasn’t personal.

Now, it is.

Because she’s not running from her wedding.

She’s running away fromme.

Too bad for her, escaping me a second time won’t happen.

Even if it fucking kills me, Harper Brennan won’t get away.

And good luck to her once I catch her, because she’s really pissed me off.

Chapter 6

Harper

Shit! Shit, shit,shit!

Why didn’t I ever join a gym or play a running sport in high school?

If Cian doesn’t kill me, all this cardiovascular activity will. I’m panting and moving as fast as I can while dodging strollers, laughing families, selfie-taking couples, and rowdy teenagers congesting the walking path next to the main street. My legs feel like they’re sprinting, but I know I’m practically crawling compared to how fast I need to go.

The fading daylight will help me a little, but not nearly enough. Men like Cian arecreaturesof the night. They get meaner, smarter, and more deadly the darker it gets outside. Trust me. I know these things.

I need to get to the truck and hightail it out of here.

How could I be so stupid? I clocked him from across the room at the bar the night I escaped, and he wasn’t even in my sight line. Two months of freedom has already dulled my danger radar.

The muscles in my legs pulse from exertion as I pound the sidewalk as hard as I can. I’m a bit turned around, but Iremember where I parked. If I can evade Cian long enough to lose him, I’ll double back and make my escape.

An ice-cold pang stabs through my chest.

What if Finn’s with him? My broody, deadly former fiancé…

If Cian and Finn both lie in wait, there’s no way in hell I’ll escape my fate. One of three things will happen. They’ll drag me back to New York, they’ll force me to marry Finn right here, or they’ll kill me for resisting options one or two.

I want to scream at the cars zipping past, at the tourists in their beachwear, fresh from an evening surf. Why can’t I be normal? Why does my life have to be a damn action movie?

And if my life must be an action movie, why can’t I be the hero instead of a damsel in distress? I want to hide in the nearest bathroom and indulge in a five-year-long panic attack.

I’m about to risk running into traffic to gain some distance when a hand clenches down on my forearm. Cian yanks me back and spins me until we stand face-to-face.

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