Page 82 of His Coveted Obsession

I decided on the forehead, cutting from one end to the other, opening up his flesh, enjoying his staggered and gargled scream as he drowned in his own blood. His pain only slightly alleviated my own. I wouldn’t be satiated until all the men were dead and I had Gregory Ivanov’s head on a platter.

I stood, wiped my bloody hand on my pants, and headed back out to let the man die on his own. There was no quick death for him. Suffocating on his own blood was the perfect ending.

Dante couldn’t be seen, so I continued. The next room was locked, so I bypassed it. Dante soon caught up to me, out of breath with a bleeding lip. I raised a brow at him. He shrugged, and we continued.

The place was massive, and it must have taken a long time to build. It had sleeping quarters, a kitchen, bathrooms, a small gym, and a sparring room. There were locked doors where I assumed hid illegal substances and weapons. This was a serious and growing business. They weren’t messing around, finding organs lucrative.

Suddenly, a man stepped out, looking down, zipping up his pants. Dante and I stopped in our tracks, as did the man, as soon as he saw us. When his eyes turned wide, I kicked him in the headwith a quick roundhouse before shoving my knife into his throat, bleeding all over me.

“God, I hate the smell of blood. Always have,” Dante said out of the blue.

I pulled out the dagger and stabbed the man several more times before he grew limp on the ground. Dante and I dragged him back into the bathroom and dumped his body into a stall. We didn’t need any more surprises.

“This place is insane,” he whispered, echoing my earlier thoughts. “This operation may be relatively new, but it appears they intend to make this a massive part of their organization. Our Gregory Ivanov is growing in the criminal underground.”

“He needs to fucking die. If he’s not here, we hunt him down.”

Dante grunted in acknowledgement.

I saw movement out of the corner of my eye, and tucked myself behind boxes, and Dante followed me. We stayed put until the guard walked past us. When he did, I jumped him, shoving my knife into his mouth from behind, so no noise escaped him. I pulled it out and shoved it into the brain stem. He quickly dropped, and I let him go.

I stood there, drenched in blood. Would Thomas be upset with me? Would he be scared? There wasn’t much I could do about it currently.

With the rest of the doors locked, we finally approached the last one, which was more like a vault.

“I’ve already got it open for you,” Layla said. “The cells are run on a separate system, but they are all controlled through electronic locks. Those are unlocked as well.”

I pulled the heavy door open, and we stepped inside to the stench of sweat, piss, and defecation. It assaulted my nose. How dare they treat my Thomas like a fucking barn animal ready for the slaughterhouse.

“I’ll get the other prisoners. You grab Annie and Thomas,” Dante said.

There were several rows of barred cells flanking either side of the room. I stopped and my heart lurched, seeing Thomas curled into a ball on the cold floor in only his underwear, sleeping, his face hidden in his arms. There was a bucket for piss and shit tucked in a corner, and next to him was an empty bowl that had held either water or food.

I tried not to let the red rage take over. I needed to get him fucking home and never let him out of my sight again.

The barred door opened easily, and I stepped inside the cell, kneeling by him as the smell assaulted my nose.

I pressed my hand to his shoulder, feeling warm skin, so I knew he was alive. My fingers trailed through his curls, wet to the touch. “Thomas. Little Rabbit.”

He whimpered and started shivering as he stirred awake.

I lifted him and held him. I knew he was alive, but I needed to feel it, too. He stank of nervous sweat, but I would get him home and cleaned soon enough.

His trembling body suddenly stiffened, and he tried to fight me off. “No, no, no… No more. Please. I just want to go home.”

“Thomas!”

He froze again, hopefully recognizing my voice.

Pulling back, he looked at me, and I wanted to tear the world apart once again. His face was battered, one eye swollen shut and bruised.

He reached for my face. “Is that you, Superman? Am I dreaming?”

“It’s me. I’m here to take you home.”

Tears spilled out of his eyes, and his busted lip trembled as he lunged at me. “Oh, god! I knew you’d come. I justknewit. You promised to protect me, and here you are.”

“I wanted to get here sooner.”

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