Obsession

Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

Violet

I’m so angry with myself I could cry. Hell, I realize when I swipe my hand across my eyes and find my fingers covered in blood and tears… I am crying.

Arrggh. I do not cry.

The only time I do cry is when my anger doesn’t have an outlet. I ball up the tissues he hands me, desperate for some sort of release.

He’s gone off to the bathroom to fetch a first aid kit and returns with a frown and the tiny plastic generic kit I got at a discount store. “You call this a first aid kit?”

I roll my eyes at him. “I don’t usually get into a knife fight with intruders, Mr. Master. I get bruises from training and things like paper cuts. Like normal people.”

His eyes gentle as he kneels in front of me again, and I’m momentarily struck by the enormity of this. He’s so huge, even when he kneels, his head nearly comes to my shoulders. But something tells me he isn’t a guy that kneels very often.

“Normal? Violet, you’re anything but normal.”

I like my name on his lips, like spiced honey. I snort out loud to cover the way my heart speeds up. “As if .”

He quirks a brow at me and doesn’t take the bait.

“So let’s hear it.”

“Okay, so I came home and I did inspect the place. Promise. Everywhere. And yes, Mr. Master, like a good girl I checked every room to make sure no one was here, and the coast was clear.”

“Very good. And call me Cain.”

I want to reach to his chin and run my finger along the stubble. Make him look at me. Instead, he’s fumbling through the kit and pulling things out.

“Cain.” I like the feel of his name in my mouth. “You’re named after the world’s first murderer.”

A wry smile ghosts across his lips before he sobers again. “Something my mother never let me forget.”

“It was intentional, then?”

“Yes.” A flicker crosses his gaze before he shutters it again. “Now back to the story, Miss Price.”

I want to hear him say my name, the word like a seductive caress.

“No more Miss Price either, please.”

“Alright, Violet.” Such a small thing, hearing my name from him, but the way he says it sounds like a poem. He lines up gauze, antibacterial wipes, and bandages. “Now. Everything.”

I speak quickly. We need to move. I know more about who might have his sister, and I don’t want to waste any more time.

“After I knew no one was here, I used the bathroom, when I heard a crash.” Those eyes of his are fixed on me with an intensity that I feel straight to my belly. “I came in here to check, but there was no one here. The window was open, and a curtain was kinda blowing with the wind, but the room was empty.”

“Did you open the window?”

“No. I looked out the window and saw no one. Nothing at all. I assumed I’d forgotten to close it and went out to the kitchen.”

He makes a noise that sounds like a growl, but waits for me to continue. For a big, grumpy guy he can be patient when he wants to be.

I give him a curious look. “Wait, how did you know what I liked?”

“Stick with the story, please. You answer my questions first, then I’ll answer yours.” He tears open a gauze pad and gently swipes across my temple. He pulls it away stained in blood. I continue.

“I texted you, and then when I turned around there were irises on my windowsill.”

“That weren’t there before.”

“No.”

The savage cruelty I saw in his eyes when I first met him returns. I draw in a ragged breath. I look into his clear, sapphire eyes that glimmer like ice, the same frigid eyes that pulled the trigger next to a man’s temple today without remorse. He watched that man crumple to the floor without blinking, then called for his team.

It was apparent to me from the moment I met him that fury and power war within him. He’s only played nice for a little while.

Today I saw the real Cain Master.

With military precision, he slides a bandage open, then cradles the back of my head. The whole base of my skull fits easily in his cupped palm. With gentle pressure, he pulls me toward him as he puts the bandage on my cut. My breath catches at how gentle and careful he is, like he knows I’m injured and can’t bear to cause me any more pain.

If only he knew.

I shiver.

His heavy brows draw over his eyes, and his mouth forms a thin, angry line.

“Go on.”

He opens another antiseptic packet and lifts my hand in his. My hand looks so small engulfed in his much larger hands. Mine are bleeding. I don’t remember why. The adrenaline and fear blinded me.

I draw in a shaky breath as he wipes the grit and blood from my hands. It stings, but I don’t let myself flinch. “After I saw the flowers, I put my phone down. I considered calling you. I decided I was going to drive to your place after all, and when I came into my room, someone hit me.”

He lets loose a string of curses.

I want to find the man who attacked me. I want to find him, and I want to kill him. I want him to pay for everything he’s done. So I speed up my story.

“I felt the blow and blocked on instinct with a slip.” It was drilled into me how to block a kick or punch, arms up to defend the face while squatting to block the gut.

He nods.

“When he was on the downswing, I turned and jabbed him straight in the gut.”

“Did you get any names in your research?”

“Just Derrick Dossier, the man suspected but released on the rape and abduction charges.”

Cain picks up his phone and makes a call. “I want you to get everything you can on Derrick Dossier. Report on my desk within the hour.” He doesn’t even wait for a response but hangs up his phone and shoves it back in his pocket.

“This motherfucker’s playing us. He’s after you and may have my sister. We can’t fuck around anymore, Violet.”

There’s my name again.

“Yeah. I’m coming back with you. We need to put our heads together. Pool resources.”

He narrows his eyes. “What a novel concept. Pack a fucking bag.”

“Do you ever say please?”

He looks down, his eyes on my shins. I’m wearing a pair of shorts, my legs on full display. Angry purple bruises mark my shins from earlier.

“Did you get these from my truck?”

“Yeah, your truck can be pretty damn aggressive.”

He lifts one of my legs in his hands, cradling it just like he did my head. My heart beats faster at the rough feel of his hands on my skin and the way his brows draw together angrily, his mouth pressed tightly in a harsh frown. That focused, steady gaze unwavering.

He bends. My breath freezes. In shock, I don’t breathe when he places a tender kiss on my legs, his lips brushing across the black and blue so tenderly it’s barely more than a whisper. When I start breathing again, I’m acutely aware of the sound.

We don’t speak. Seconds tick by, the only sounds in the room are my heavier breathing and his gentle, fluttering kisses across my skin.

If he looks at me, there’s no turning back. If his eyes meet mine, I can’t tell him no.

He lets me go. I shiver at the loss of his warmth.

He stands and walks away from me.

I’m saved.

Then why do I feel so disappointed?

“I’m sorry. We have to get out of here. On second thought, you’re not packing. I’ll buy you whatever you need. We’re leaving now, and you’ll tell me the rest of what happened on the way back.”

“I can pack in less than a minute.” I’m already on my way to the closet. I need to walk away from him.

He grumbles but uses the time to toss the bandage wrappers away. I grab a quilted backpack Candi gave me from the back of my closet and quickly shove folded clothes, underwear, a pair of sneakers, and my phone in the bag. He’s waiting for me, his arms crossed over his chest. “Can you find the little pink bottle of lotion on the bedside table, please?”

I need to distract him so he doesn’t see what I grab next. No one sees that, not even Candi.

“I can get you as many little pink bottles of lotion as your heart desires, let’s go.”

“That’s a special one, it was for Candi’s bachelorette party.”

I got it as a freebie in the mail. I hope he doesn’t see through the lie.

Another grumble, but he fetches it just in time. I yank the zipper on my bag closed and get to my feet.

“You had a guard here, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t need?—”

“You fucking did, and he better have a good excuse as to why he didn’t do his goddamn job.” He slams the drawer closed and turns to stalk over to me.

I could never, ever be with a man like him. Do this, do that. He’s about as supple as a steel rod, and I have to remember that.

They call him the executioner.

I can’t let the gentle side of him mess with my mind. That’s where women go wrong. They know in their heart a guy’s no good for them. They know it. Yet something he does makes them forget all logic and they believe the stupid lie that they have a magical pussy that somehow cures all, that he won’t ever drink/steal/lie again, or whatever the heck they tell themselves.

I won’t let that happen.

When my mind wants to replay the feel of his full, hot lips on my aching skin, I shove it away. When my brain wants me to remember that he came to find me, that I didn’t respond to his text and he knew I was in trouble and he came for me, I don’t let myself dwell.

He’s dangerous, ruthless, and arrogant, and so bad for me he’s poison.

Poison.

When we exit the building, I try to hide my fear. Logically, I know there is no madman waiting for me outside, but it still feels like there could be.

I don’t miss how he walks beside me. His razor-sharp gaze notes everything. If there’s anyone here to try to take me now, they’d better have backup, a hand grenade, and a cannon, because no one’s getting me without a declaration of war.

The ride back to his house hurts like hell.

“You’ve got ibuprofen back at that mansion, right?” I mutter, my head falling on the seat behind me. My eyes close.

“No sleeping,” Cain snaps. My eyes fly back open.

“You really are a slave driver!”

That gets Joe’s attention, but he doesn’t say anything.

“You can’t sleep now. You could have a concussion.”

“Fine. But God, am I tired. How long do I have to stay awake?”

“Until the doctor gives you clearance.”

“Oh God. I’m gonna need a coffee. Double shot of espresso, straight up.”

“Need me to stop and get some?”

I sigh. “No. I don’t drink coffee.”

He shakes his head.

“What?”

He changes the subject. “Back to what happened.”

“So I got him with a jab. I believe that’s where we left off.”

“You have a mean jab,” Joe chimes in.

I stare at him. He’s never seen me fight.

“How do you know?”

He shrugs and laughs. “I can just tell. You’re a fighter. Little fireplug.”

He’s lying. I look at Cain, but his face is a mask of stone.

“I threw a jab and he fell back, and he would’ve gotten me but I aimed a very, very well-placed kick to his crotch that was meant to incapacitate him. And that was when everything began to go wrong.”

Cain sighs and accelerates.

“This car is gorgeous, by the way. Stunning, with this all-leather interior. Are these heated seats?”

“Yes. Thank you. Get back to the story.”

“There’s not much more to tell. He rebounded, slapped me across the face so hard I bit my lip, and we literally brawled. I tried to pull my knife, but I was too slow, and by the time I got it out…” I sigh. I hate this part of the story. “He was out the window and onto the fire escape.”

Cain frowns. “He slapped you?”

I nod. Of all those details I just told him, that’s what he thinks about? “Yeah.”

His back goes rigid.

“Remember I said you’ll be at my place at eight a.m.? Now that order’s null and void, since you’re coming back with me.”

Order? I think sometimes he forgets he’s not my commander.

“Yesss…?”

Where’s he going with this?

“Scratch that. Tomorrow morning at seven a.m., unless we have a breakthrough and find something we need to pursue, you’ll get your first lesson in how to handle a gun.”

I stifle a squeal. I’ve wanted to learn how to shoot a gun forever but haven’t taken the time to do it.

“You have a trainer?”

He frowns, those glacial eyes glancing my way before he looks back to the road. “Yeah.”

Joe chuckles softly. Is this an inside joke or something?

“Did you find anything before all this happened?” Cain asks, and his eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. Something like camaraderie flashes between us, so quickly I wonder if it’s my imagination.

He doesn’t like that I was alone in the apartment and attacked. He wishes he was there.

Why does it excite me to imagine what would’ve happened if he was?

I should be appalled that he shot a man today. Without remorse. Without hesitation.

I’m not, though. In fact, quite the opposite.

It’s the single most attractive thing he’s done since I’ve met him. He’s the man who could help me, and will.

What on earth does a guy like him find attractive about a girl like me? What ?

Maybe I need to play into this. Maybe, if he were attracted to me…

No.

No, no, no. I’ve gotten this far without whoring myself out, and I won’t start now.

Something tells me he’d make it worth my while…

“You mean, did I do any research? Damn right I did, and I have a list of leads we need to pursue as soon as possible. Has anyone contacted you about your sister?”

“No.”

“Have you checked all your social media accounts and email and phone number?”

Again, the flash of stunning blue in the mirror. “Check my social media?”

“Do you… have social media?”

“No.”

“Well, that makes things simpler.”

I look out the window and Joe chuckles again, so softly I barely hear him, but the sound is unmistakable. What’s so funny?

“When we get back, you’ll see the doctor and we’ll make sure you meet with my team. We’ll combine what we’ve found so far.” He glances in his rearview mirror again, but he doesn't look at me this time.

“Someone following us?”

A long gaze in the mirror again, and he finally shakes his head. “No.”

The interior of the car is a soft, matte black leather, luxurious and decadent. The carpet’s pristine, the windows and chrome details like new. More notable is the way it drives, though, so seamlessly you don’t know it’s accelerating until the world flies by you. So sleek, it cuts through the air with military precision.

“Is this your getaway car?”

“It is.”

“The next time you rob a bank, I’ll be your getaway driver.”

“What’s your going rate?”

“Oh, for you, I’d cut you a break and let it go for a cool mil.”

He nods, as if thinking this over. “You’re right. I would consider that a good deal.”

“Take him for two,” Joe chimes in over his shoulder. Cain almost smiles. His lips thin before the smile reaches his eyes.

Almost.

“So this is how you got to my place so quickly. You must’ve been driving like over a hundred miles an hour.”

He doesn’t reply, only gives me a slow, lazy shrug, like driving at the speed of light is seriously no big deal.

“So why so much slower now?”

He doesn’t answer. Joe speaks up from the passenger seat. “We’ve got cargo now.”

Cargo?

Oh.

Oh.

Me. I’m cargo.

Well then.

I think as a woman I should be offended by that, but somehow, I feel it’s almost sweet.

And it’s definitely something I could use to my advantage.

It’s warm and comfortable here. I lean back against the seat, my senses overwhelmed with the rich scent of leather. I took ibuprofen from the first aid kit before we left to dull the pain, and it’s kicked in, my bruises and scrapes no longer throbbing.

I’ve had bullshit luck with this kinda thing lately. Between the accident and this, I’m almost ready for a nice, boring day in the office?—

Who’m I kidding? I’d stab myself in the eye with a pencil.

What I’m really ready for is some adventure that doesn’t involve Violet Price, punching bag, as the main attraction.

I’m floating, and it’s comfortable here, and for once in a very, very long time, I know that no one’s going to hurt me.

“Do not fall asleep!”

I snap to attention, my eyes flying open. The next second, a surge of adrenaline powers through me and I glare at Cain in the rearview mirror.

“I’m not sleeping.”

“You aren’t now. ”

I can’t believe I ever thought of seducing a guy like him. I would strangle him in his sleep.

We pull into the long driveway that leads to his garage. The house is alight. His team’s awake.

I want to sleep. I was exhausted before all this, and now I’m at the point of no return. I’m so tired I could cry.

I open the door and shiver with a gust of night wind. I wrap my arms around myself and follow them both into the house.

It’s different tonight than it was earlier today. Tonight, even though it’s way past midnight, the place is teeming with people. Even Alma, his housekeeper, is in the kitchen in her robe, putting a kettle on the stove.

“Good evening,” she says to me pleasantly. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Tea would be great, thank you.”

In the kitchen, right up next to the counter, are large, padded, spindle chairs. They’re so fun, they make me want to play music on a jukebox and wear a poodle skirt. But right now, every one of them is occupied by one of Cain’s employees.

A bowl of popcorn, nothing left but kernels, sits on one side of the counter, and on the other, there’s a large platter of cheese and a fruit tray pretty well picked over beside empty pizza boxes and energy drink empties. Laptops and notebooks are scattered about, and in one corner of the room, a series of monitors are set up.

Cain grabs a mug. Strange he doesn’t let his house help get it.

Something’s changed between us. Something… shifted… from the very first moment his lips touched my skin back in my apartment.

Hell, it was before that.

From the very first time I stared into his eyes after he’d ended a man’s life.

“How do you take your tea?”

“Dash of milk, please.”

He places it in front of me while the milk still swirls, and I sip. It’s so hot it scalds the roof of my mouth, but somehow it’s exactly what I need right now. I wrap my hands around the ceramic mug, the heat of it warming me through. One small comfort on a day fraught with violence.

Cain clears his throat. The room stills.

“For those who haven’t met her yet, this is Violet Price, a new contractor who will be working for Master Enterprises in the short-term. Violet’s skilled in kickboxing and knife throwing, speaks multiple languages, and will be a valuable asset to our team.”

I look around the small group. The man who hit my car last night isn’t here.

A few of them murmur greetings and some nod to me.

“Violet and I are in pursuit of someone we believe kidnapped my sister. We have reason to believe the man’s a serial rapist who intends on abusing, possibly even fatally hurting, Skylar and that the same person has hinted at coming after her next. Tonight, she had an intruder in her apartment. She’ll be here indefinitely, while we search for Skylar.”

I take another sip of tea, not quite as hot now as it was before.

“Violet, are you in a position where you are ready to talk?” Cain gives me a curious look. I don’t know what he means. Why wouldn’t I be in a position to talk?

I look at him in surprise, as I finish my mug of tea and place it on the counter. His housekeeper scoops it up with a smile and stashes it in the dishwasher before I’ve put my hand back in my lap.

Okay, I could totally see why having a housekeeper is a good thing.

“What do you mean?”

He crosses the room to me, all fluid grace and muscle despite his bulk, and leans across the counter on his arm, speaking in a low rumble. “You okay? Or do you need some time to yourself?”

“I’m fine,” I lie, my voice distant while my heart beats a thunderous beat in my chest. I can handle his arrogance and anger, but concern… now that’s another story.

He nods. “Then why don’t you fill us in.”