Page 127 of The Dark Obsession

“Good. I want him to suffer before I’ll finally crush him.”

Tyson still hasn’t told me what my father did to him. But there must be a damn good reason for him to go to these lengths.

“When?” Raffaele asks carefully.

There’s a pregnant pause and I glance at the white-knuckled grip Tyson has on the steering wheel, fearing it’ll break under his crushing hold.

“I’ll fucking figure it out.” He grits out through clenched teeth, making the vein on his forehead throb.

On the other side of the line, I can hear his half-brother let out an exasperated sigh.

“Don’t go all mountain man on me, brother. All that nature can’t be good for you.”

I have to press my lips together to stop myself from laughing.

He might have a point.

“Says the guy who owns a fucking ranch.” Tyson fires back without missing a beat.

“Once this is all over, you should drop by.” Raffaele offers, unaffected by his brother’s hostility. “Both of you.”

The man next to me doesn’t respond, earning himself another frustrated groan from the other end.

“Anyway, how’s my little sister doing being trapped with your grumpy ass?”

Little sister.

The blood drains from my face.

No.

No. No. No.

That can’t be true.

Distantly, I register Tyson cursing as he cuts of the call.

I don’t realize that my hands are shaking, that my whole body is shaking, until a rough hand envelops mine. Jerking me out of the impending panic attack.

“Deep breaths, Malory.” His voice sounds far away but I hang onto it.

My lungs expanding with a deep intake of oxygen before I slowly exhale a ragged breath, getting my body gradually back under control.

“I can explain everything.” He rasps.

I can barely hear his words over my hammering heartbeat.

We’re still driving down the wet road, the rain getting stronger by the minute. Yet Tyson’s attention remains firmly fixed on me.

“L-look ahead…” I whisper weakly before he’ll land us in a ditch. All the while, I’m counting the seconds between every inhale to calm myself.

In and out. Ever so slowly.

With one last lingering look, the man complies. Peering through the fast-paced windshield wipers as we barrel down the familiar dirt road, mud splashing from under the tires.

I don’t say anything else.I can’t.

I can’t even look at him, look into his eyes or I’m going to be sick.

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