Page 25 of Brutal Obsession

And still, seeing Harper Brennan in the passenger seat of my car—even though she’s asleep and we’re a million miles from home—is a miracle.

I always wanted a chance to spend more time with this woman.

And now she’s all mine until further notice.

The idea shoots straight to my dick.

After I settle into the driver’s seat, I steal a glance at her angelic face.

Like my gaze itches, Harper’s eyelids scrunch and flutter a few times. Her lips roll together and pull apart as she slowly returns to consciousness.

She blinks, gazing out the passenger window, at the dashboard, and then, as anticipation vibrates in my chest, her attention shifts to me.

Our eyes lock in the soft glow of the console lights.

Her sleepy expression sharpens. The soft gasp of her breath shifts the air between us. And then tears well up and spill down her cheeks.

The sight is so unexpected, it tosses me straight into an emotional free fall. I hate seeing tears on a woman. Worst of all, I can’t stand the idea that I’m the reason for those tears.

My chest locks up tight, constricting my insides.

Harper’s painful little sobs claw at my ears.

“It’s you…” She pulls her knees to her chest and drops her head on top, shoulders shaking. “Oh, god.”

Thisis her reaction to being alone with me?

My heart hits the deck. And I’d be lying if I said my pride wasn’t hurt.

“Back at you, Brennan.” I put the car in drive and rev off the shoulder onto the dark, lonely road.

One of Harper’s hands grabs the dashboard, the other the armrest on the door. The tension in her muscles telegraphsfear,loud and clear.

“What are you doing?”

She’s teary-eyed and frantic, almostcoweringinto the door.

“Stop sniveling.”

Voice trembling, she snaps at me. “Where are you taking me?”

My mood plummets fast.

I tighten my grip on the wheel, knuckles straining. “Home.”

Harper releases a helpless cry so small and heartrending, I lose my composure a second.

And inside me… Is my heart on roller skates? What the fuck is going on in there?

I fight the urge to stare at her while tears waterfall from her blue eyes. She whimpers once like a cornered little animal.

I hate the sound of a woman in distress. Drives me fucking nuts.

My right temple pulses with ghosts of the past. I’m getting worked up.

When I glance over, Harper’s on her phone.

I lunge for the device, and she lurches to avoid me, batting my arm back with more force than I expect.

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