Page 23 of Brutal Obsession

Driving at night out in the sticks is a horror movie, pretty much.

My heart skips when a tree branch lurches in the wind. I could do without the gruesome shadows too.

Anticipation mounts inside me as I close the distance between myself and the Fukuoka home. Even though I know tonight is probably the last night I’ll ever see them, I’m eager to get back.

If the Kings are coming after me for shirking my duty, if one runaway bride matters enough to them that they’re flying operatives into the Pacific to bring me home, then they’llhave no problem threatening or killing anyone close to me as incentive for my cooperation.

I can’t give them that chance.

Up ahead, I spy the dirt driveway that leads around to the back of the Fukuoka house.

As I maneuver the truck onto the path, a tall figure appears in my headlights out of nowhere.

I scream like I have lungs the size of this truck’s cab and yank the wheel so far to the right, the truck almost spins a U-turn back into the street. I stomp on the brakes, which launches my torso toward the dash harder than I expect. My seat belt prevents a concussion, but my vision still swirls with darkness before brightening again.

The driver’s side door squeaks open. The horrible, metallic squeal sounds far away to my ringing ears. When my chest stops heaving and I muster the strength to peek, I expect to find Jean or Tony or the person they invited over for dinner that I nearly mowed down with this truck, but instead…

“Get out.” Cian glowers at me. With the truck’s height, he and I are eye-to-eye, his demonic gaze heavy on mine.

“How did you find me?” That I’m capable of speech while choking on more fear than I’ve ever experienced is a miracle.

Terror grips my heart like my father’s fist and squeezes, tightening around me with enough strength to snap my spine.

“Now.” That one word turns me to stone.

I freeze, the same way I did when I saw him on the patio a few hours ago.

How did Cian find me?

Behind his hulking frame, the Fukuoka house remains dark.

Does that mean…the people inside are dead? Was I fretting about what to tell my new, kind friends when they were dead all along?

Cian thrusts an impatient arm into the cab, groping my hip for the seat belt release. His fingers grasp my waist and drag me out of the truck.

I can’t breathe. This is…this is all too much.

As soon as my foot touches the ground, my legs give out and so does my consciousness. Mind slipping away into the dark, the last thing I hear is his rough, demanding voice.

“You’re coming withme.”

Chapter 7

Cian

Women do a lot of things around me, but no one’s ever fainted before. If I were a different kind of asshole and watching terror render a woman unconscious wasn’t triggering as fuck, the act might have flattered me.

Instead, Harper’s collapse petrifies me for a good ninety seconds. I spend the entire time fighting off the onslaught of unwanted memories.

I’m standing with her slumped over my arm in the open doorway of some beat-up old rust bucket that’s still idling and might roll right back into the road, because Harper didn’t put the thing in park after she tried to run me over.

Guess I must’ve scared the hell out of her.

When she fainted, I thought she was faking a diversion. Then I thought she was dead. Goes to show how shot my nerves are. I’ve been stressing about this woman for months. She faints one time and sends my whole system into overdrive.

Me surprising her at night, on foot, like in a horror movie jump scare, was not how I pictured our eventual reunion.

I aspired to keep things efficient and professional. Find Harper. Get to the airport. Go home before any of my lust or anger seized the reins and took control. I never imagined meseeing her would scare her to the point of fainting, for fuck’s sake.

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