Page 62 of Brutal Obsession

I’ve behaved selfishly. I see that now, and I’ll never forgive myself.

In the uneasy silence hanging between us, she ventures a question. “Who were those men?”

I pull into the street.

“Cian? Who were they?” Her small voice plunges a dagger into my heart.

Once again, I ignore the question. “We’re heading back to New York.”

I won’t tell Harper. She doesn’t need to know De Luca operatives are after her. She’s scared enough. And more than what learning the truth will do to her, I’m afraid of what seeing her in anymore pain will do tome.

Harper won’t be safe until I get her back home.

Neither of us will be.

Chapter 16

Harper

I’ve been a daughter of the mob long enough to know that strange men with guns means get the hell out of Dodge. That’s the only reason I don’t fling myself from the car when Cian says we’re heading back to New York.

Sweat saturates my clothes. My head throbs as the adrenaline starts to fade, though my heart still pounds like thunder in my chest. I dig my fingernails into my skin, clawing at my elbows.

Today has been insane.

Images of the gunmen haunt me whenever I close my eyes. Panic rolls through my body in sporadic waves. The only people I know who want to abduct me are the Irish Kings, and Cian represents them.

So, who the hell do those two attackers represent?

The iron stench of Cian’s blood, oozing down his right arm, dripping all over the white leather seats, twists my stomach into knots. I roll the window down as fast as I can and gulp humid air to prevent the bile from surging into my throat.

Why did I try to run? All I did was put innocent people in danger. Everyone at the restaurant could’ve easily been killed because of me.

Cian too. Even if his job puts him in situations like this all the time, he wouldn’t have beenhere, atthatmoment, outgunned and outnumbered, if not for my stupid, selfish, childish actions two months ago. If I’d just agreed to go back to New York yesterday, then he never would’ve been shot.

It’s my fault. All of this is my fault.

Even knowing that, I can’t go back. I won’t.

Running away may not have been my best decision, but returning to Manhattan would be even worse.Staying here isn’t an option. If whoever wants to snatch me already tracked me here, then Oahu isn’t safe.

Time to run someplace else. I just need to know all the facts so I can plan accordingly.

Only, jackass over here refuses to cooperate.

“Tell me who those men were.”

Despite his still-bleeding arm, Cian steers the wheel with his right hand and keeps silent.

Frustration pulverizes my insides. I dig my fingernails into my jean-covered thighs, but denim protects my legs from the pain required to fend off the flashbacks. Footage of my life flickers behind my eyes.

I ask my father a question, and he ignores me, barely even acknowledging my presence.

More often than not, he treated me like an inanimate object. A doll on a shelf incapable of real communication, speaking only when someone pulled my string.

Cian’s giving a dynamite impression of him right now. I would applaud if his performance didn’t trigger me to the point of homicide.

Always being kept in the dark and forced to meekly go along with the will of the nearest man both contribute to why I fled. And now Cian’s behavior takes me right back to that place whereI suffocated beneath the weight of my father’s domineering thumb.

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