Catching His Runaway (Ruthless Obsession #3)

1. Valeria

1

Valeria

Weeds lick at my ankles, those with sharp edges, leaving lines of red against my skin. The sting is short-lived, hardly lasting when I’ve got a weight resting against my shoulders, keeping my mind preoccupied.

I shouldn’t be here. Fuck, I promised myself that I’d never return home.

Now look at me, sneaking between trees and holding my breath like I expect a familiar face to jump out and yell boo .

Nothing out here except for some squirrels that are asking for their asses kicked since they keep jump-scaring me and making my body flinch each time they skitter through the greenery.

No matter how many times I jerk, it doesn’t matter. I have to keep pushing forward. I don’t have time to worry about anything out here in the wilderness.

The real danger is up ahead.

The Bertelli estate. In short, the place I grew up for the first eighteen years of my life. Not against my will or anything of the sort, but that never made it feel less like a prison. Especially during my teenage years, when I wanted to leave the most. Once they stuck him at my side, everything changed.

If I’d stayed, my life would have likely been restricted like that of my family.

My relationship with my family is shaky. My upbringing lacked the idyllic suburban setting often portrayed as normal, with friends and a golden retriever as a pet.

Sure, I had three older brothers who picked fun at me as we grew up. Sometimes we fought, but most of the time, we used each other for support. They made life feel as normal as they could. We were all raised for our positions in the future, like pieces to an overly complicated puzzle. Unlike my brothers, my piece wasn’t cut out to fit the missing hole.

The only brother I wasn’t as close with was Santino, and that wasn’t his fault. As the eldest, he had responsibilities to take care of and a role to claim once our father passed down his title of Don. He had the most weight on his shoulders, morphing him into someone I hardly recognized.

Has he continued down the same path and become cold-hearted and bloodthirsty when it involves his enemies?

I shiver at the thought, knowing full well that I won’t be returning in good graces.

How will they react when they see me? Will they welcome me back with open arms, or string me high with a traitor sign hung around my neck for everyone to see?

Okay, that’s a bit dramatic. They wouldn’t hurt me.

Even better, they won’t even know that I’ve stopped by for a brisk visit. I’ve snuck out of this place before, I’m sure I can do it a second time without letting anyone know.

Once I get my hands on what I need, I can once again promise myself that I’ll never return. When the time comes, I’ll keep the promise this time.

Hopefully, I can make my way back out with ease. I don’t have time to get lost. Once I have my hands on something of value, I don’t want to risk someone else catching me with my arms full and stealing it away before I can sell it off.

That’ll be an issue for future me. Right now, present me only needs to focus on getting to my destination without attracting any attention.

It doesn’t take much longer before I reach my first obstacle. The fence wrapped around the estate. Looking up at the metal coiling around the fence, I scowl.

At what point did they add barbed wire? The last time I checked, no one ever dared to come straight to our home to pick a fight. Who in the hell are they trying to keep out? Better yet, there’s the chance they’re trying to keep someone in.

If I knew coming and going would be such an issue, I would’ve brought some cutters. If I weren’t in such a rush to get here to begin with, then maybe I would’ve thought about stopping somewhere before making my way out so far into the countryside.

Though, could I have risked making any stops? Even if I have been playing it safe these last handful of weeks by paying everything with cash, cameras are everywhere nowadays. I had to leave everything behind to avoid being followed.

If I’m caught before I have what I need, I’m done for. Can’t even dig my grave, not when I’d end up underwater with a brick chained to my ankle instead of being six feet under.

Lowering my gaze back to the fence, I hesitate at the thought of them improving on their defense with more than some blades. What if I try to touch the fence and it shocks the hell out of me?

Nothing better than someone on the other side finding me unconscious. That would be very bad. Especially if they still do their rounds by the hour.

As cautiously as I can, I inch closer. Close enough to see if I can hear any signs to show it’s safe. Holding my breath, everything remains silent besides the occasional squawk coming from birds. Knowing there’s only one way to really test out how safe it is, I touch it with a wince.

Realizing that I’m not getting electricity pumped through my system, I sigh in relief.

Pulling back, I shrug off my jacket. It’s one of my favorites. Made of leather, and plenty roomy, this jacket has kept me warm on cool days, and made me look cool during the hot ones.

Unfortunately, I have nothing better to keep me from slicing up my body from the blades above.

Apologizing softly under my breath, I climb the fence halfway and chuck it over. Once it snags, I drop back down to recollect myself.

A good seven years have passed since I last needed to climb this thing. I could’ve sworn it wasn’t this tall, but I don’t have time to question it. I need to get over. Even if my body isn’t a fan of gravity, I have to get over this next obstacle.

Pumping myself up, I get a running start. Reminding myself of what’ll happen to me if I don’t get over, I use the fear to fuel my adrenaline to make it up.

Just when I think getting up is the hard part, getting down is more challenging. Thanks to my hands getting sweaty from the solid ten-foot climb, my fingers slip when I try to lower my body down the links. Unable to catch myself, I hit my feet unevenly and stumble back, falling directly on my ass.

Gritting my teeth as pain shoots up my spine, I swallow down the yelp that tries to escape, and fist the blades of grass beneath me as my agitation grows.

Agitation toward myself for getting into this position in the first place. Sighing, there’s no point in getting upset now. I’ve already had this conversation ten times over. Can’t change the past, but I can do something about the future.

Staring up at my jacket with a frown, I know there’s no use in trying to fetch it. The blades have surely already ruined the fabric.

Getting up, I rub at my sore ass as I turn toward the building in the distance.

With the assumption that my family has guards patrolling, I carefully make my way through the grass with my eyes peeled. Coming in from the back, I’m relieved to see the gardens are as lush as ever. Obscuring my presence as I move, it’s thick enough to ease the knot in my chest.

Hunching down, I keep my eyes peeled for any signs of movement. Surprisingly enough, the back of the estate seems quiet. No footsteps or casual conversations are happening between guards. Just pure, peaceful silence.

When I stayed here, these men had scheduled rounds. There was always someone. So, unless Santino has changed our family’s business ethics, there is no reason for it to be quiet.

Finally, I hear steps. Heavy footing belonging to someone who has to be big, I carefully look around to see what I’m dealing with here.

Seeing a body of muscle moving along the brick exterior too close for comfort, my heart flutters, and I inhale sharply. Ducking below a bush, I pause before lifting back up in confusion. Squinting, I try to get a better look at the guy.

My heart stops.

Just—full fucking stop. Like my ribs are a cage, and some traitorous part of me just dropped the keys. Then it kicks back in, violent and uneven, pounding so hard I swear he can hear it from across the park.

It’s him. Tommy.

Tommy, as in the guy who got the order to follow me around and make sure I never got in trouble? He’s alive ?

Not only is he alive, but he’s beefed up. He’s aged in the handful of years I’ve been gone. Frown lines mark up his face like he hasn’t smiled since his youth.

Even when he was my bodyguard, I left him so stressed that I don’t think he smiled much back then, either. Something’s different, though. Something has changed.

Shaking my head, I take in my surroundings to refocus myself. Now that I see the back entrance isn’t safe, I need another plan.

Now isn’t the time to get distracted by the past. I left all that behind when I slipped out. No point in resurfacing old feelings.

The garage. Surely, there’s a car inside I can take. Something that can stand a few scrapes and dents that’ll be an easy fix. Something that won’t be hard to sell to the right people.

Will I find something worth enough value to pay off this debt? As a last-ditch effort, I can only hope so. Even if I can get a chunk of my debt paid off, maybe it’ll put me in a better light. I can get a little more time before I’m hunted down and picked off.

Grass stains my palms as I crawl. Smart enough to stop and listen, I feel a little better when silence welcomes me. Once I’m reaching the end of this hedge, I’ve got no choice but to stand up and hope no one will be around to get in my way.

Unfortunately, luck hasn’t been on my side lately. Ever since I got into my current mess, I’ve had one hell of an unlucky streak building up against me.

I don’t know how I pissed Karma off, but she’s really got it out for me.

Tommy has only not continued around the building like I’d hoped, he chose to take a seat at the bench looking out at the entire garden like he needed space to unwind.

And now, we’re staring at each other. Just like that, time feels like it’s standing still. All I can hear is the beat of my heart. Like a crescendo, it goes from steady to racing. Soon, it’s pounding against my chest.

Tommy doesn’t take long to recognize me. Despite the years I’ve been away, I’ve got the same cursed appearance as the rest of my siblings. The same dark hair and black eyes. The same resting bitch face. A family trait, unfortunately.

He must recognize me as easily as I recognized him. However, he’s not as shocked to see I’m still breathing. There’s only one thing this man is feeling, and it’s anger.

When a harsh frown forms on his lips and his brows come together, I don’t have to guess what is going to happen next if I keep standing around like a deer caught in headlights.

Turning, I book it and run like my life depends on it. From the heavy steps growing louder from behind, it feels like it really does. He might’ve gotten meatier since the last time I saw him, but the added weight is not to his disadvantage. The muscle has to slow him down.

I used to run laps around this place, letting this man try to keep up with me. It was his job, after all. Couldn’t make it easy for him to keep me tied to this place.

He was never allowed to let me out of his sight. Yet, one time, he had. Seeing that he’s still alive, my family had to be a little forgiving toward him.

Well, turns out, Tommy’s gotten a little quicker since the last time I gave chase. Reminds me of a rattlesnake. He makes no attempt at stealth, preferring to advertise his approach before delivering a lethal strike.

I’m not going down easy, I swear to it.

Turning at the right time, right when I know I’m within his reach, I try to punch him. Do I think I stand a chance against this brute? Hell no. Still, if I can disorient him or something, I can give myself the chance to scatter away and hide until everyone thinks I was a figment of their imagination.

I can’t afford to leave this estate empty-handed. I need something with value, even if it means I have to stoop to the level of stealing from my family.

Tommy is far bigger than I remember him to be. He’s a wall of muscle crashing directly into me. Rather than losing his footing and letting us both stumble to the grass below, he’s suddenly everywhere.

His tree-trunk arms lock around my body, and I’m crushed against his chest. His shirt smells of blood, but not even the scent of death is enough to ignore just how warm he is.

Sixteen-year-old me would be jumping for joy if Tommy grabbed me like this.

Twenty-five-year-old me is wiggling and trying my damned hardest to get free.

When I shove the heel of my shoe into his foot, he grunts but doesn’t release his grip. I scratch his arms harshly enough to catch his skin beneath my nails, but all I get is the same outcome.

Reaching behind me, I resort to my last tactic. There’s no way in hell I’d come here unarmed. While there’s no chance I’d shoot someone here, I’m not shy of stabbing. Knife wounds heal better than bullet wounds. He’d have to pull away if I made him bleed.

Once I’ve got a good grip on the handle, I swing my arm, hoping to make contact. Unfortunately, the only thing I hit is his palm as he catches my wrist.

His nostrils flare as he takes in the small blade almost like he’s insulted that I think such a weapon can hurt him. A deep growl forms in the pit of his chest. “Drop the knife.”

For a moment, I’m distracted by his hand. Not that he’s touching me, but by the thick fingers wrapped around my limb. Three fingers and a thumb. His pinkie is gone. Well, it’s hardly a nub, scared over from the damage done. My eyes flick over toward his other hand. The very same.

My stomach clenches, and I try to tell myself that he probably lost them in a way that doesn’t revolve around me.

My family didn’t kill him for letting me slip away. However, they’ve definitely punished him.

Taking my distraction as refusal, he squeezes my wrist hard enough to make a cry leave my lips and my hand open so the blade hits the grass.

“Stop,” he growls when I try to reach for it with my other hand, the command coming out straight from the pit of his chest.

I obey, but not because of him. Fighting and struggling have left me exhausted . I don’t normally have to fight for my life here. I’ve just been on a streak lately.

My luck can’t possibly turn more terrible than it already is.

This is embarrassing. Out of all the people I left behind to see what kind of woman I’ve turned into, it had to be him.

The man who’d judge me the most.

Seconds pass, full of silence. He’s scanning my appearance like he’s trying to figure out if I’m a threat or not. Not to him, but to this entire place.

I shouldn’t have come back here.

Instead, I should’ve used what money I had and tried to escape my current life. Fake my death and take on a new name.

“Valeria.” Speaking my name like it’s a curse, he hisses it through his teeth.

“Good to see you too,” I huff as I try to give my arm another tug. With the grip he has on me, it’s like he’d rather shatter my wrist by gripping tighter than release me.

What happened to this man?

His eyes are so dark, a pit of darkness without an ounce of light left behind.

Once we’ve collected ourselves, and I stop tugging on his grip, I think foolishly that he’ll ease up a little. Not that he’ll trust me, but that he’d give me some kind of opening.

Even if I’m tired, I’m too stubborn to give up. However, his bruising grip remains, and that stare of his can burn a hole straight through me.

He releases my wrist, but doesn’t let me run. Rather, he moves his hand to my arm. Secure as a handcuff, he jerks me toward the home I grew up in. He’s taking me to see my family, I’m sure of it.

I’m not ready to see them. I don’t want to.

Tommy drags me out of the grass and straight through the gravel. I can barely keep my steps steady without falling over. Even if I did trip, I’m sure this man would drag me to our destination.

“Tommy, you have to let me go. I’ll leave, alright?” I hate how desperate I sound, but my words fall on deaf ears. So, I do what I always do. I let my anger get the best of me and see how far my tongue gets me.

As I call this man every name in the book, I claw at his hand and ignore our surroundings. Assuming there are men wandering all over this place, I’m sure I’m putting up one hell of a show.

This man isn’t going to let me go. Wherever he’s taking me, I can only hope it isn’t worse than the fate I’m already doomed to.