Page 87 of His Coveted Obsession

“How do you know all this?”

Instead of answering, he said, “Follow me.”

The man with the black hair led us out of our prison, with Easton close behind. Annie and I took up the rear with the women.

I held Annie’s hand with the knife out in front of me as we made our escape. It was slow, so we weren’t caught off guard.

When we approached a door that was cracked open, the black-haired man waved at us to stop. He held his gun out and entered before I heard him talking.

“Jesus, Sully. You’ve had your fun. We have to go now.”

“But I was just getting started,” the other man whined.

I heard two pops from his gun, making me jump. “Now we’re done.”

“You’re no fun, Dante.”

A tall, red-headed man came out, his hands covered in blood. He eyed me with unsettling eyes that matched his hair.

“Ah, I see you found Boyfriend alive,” he said. “Well, I’ve killed five others. Who knows how many are still here?”

“All the more reason to leave now,” the black-haired man said, who I assumed was Dante.

It was clear those two men were killers. Did Easton hire them to get us out? Were they mercenaries? If so, why was Easton covered in blood, too? I needed to save my gazillion questions for later.

As we moved on, we passed the room Sully had come out of, and I paused to look inside. While I’d expected to see dead bodies, I hadn’t expected to see all the… gore. And was he… missing a face?

“Oh, Jesus…”

I shoved Annie behind me, and suddenly my empty stomach tried to throw up, but all that came out was drool and what little water was in my system. My hands shook so much that I dropped the knife. Those men weren’t just killed, they were carved up more than a Thanksgiving turkey.

I was quickly moved out of the way, and the door was slammed shut. Easton picked up the knife and handed it back to me.

“We need to go.”

I nodded as I wiped my trembling mouth, trying not to lose it. Easton would give me answers once we got to safety. He was always honest.

“We’re being too fucking loud,” Dante said.

I looked behind me at Annie, who hugged herself. Then I glanced back at the four women, who were also holding onto each other.

I straightened my shoulders and took a deep breath. I had to be brave for her. It was my job to protect her. With her hand in mine again, we followed the other men.

A door suddenly burst open, and shots rang out. Sully was hit and stumbled back into the wall as Dante fired several rounds.

Easton attacked another man coming out, stabbing him from behind. He was huge, swinging Easton around like a rag doll, but he hung on, repeatedly stabbing the man. Then I recognized him as the man who always hosed me down. I found myself cheering for Easton, yet I was also a little terrified of him at the same time. This was a side of him I hadn’t seen before. He was definitely a killer, too. God, my mind tried to process it all, but I was stuck in fight-or-flight mode, with a heavy dose of flight.

Before I could ask myself more questions, another man came out and aimed his gun at the struggling duo. Annie clung to my back as Sully threw his knife at him, missing since his dominant arm had been shot, from what I could see. Dante was struggling with another man, whom I hadn’t noticed until now. He kickedout at the man, knocking him back, but as he rushed to get his gun, the other man lunged at him and clocked Dante in the face. He stumbled back, but quickly recovered. My eyes drew back to the other man trying to aim amongst the chaos.

There was no one to protect Easton but me. He was going to get killed, and I wouldn’t stand by and watch it happen. He was my Superman.No one hurt my Superman.

Like Easton had done, I jumped on the man’s back and stabbed him repeatedly without a thought. All I could think about was protecting my boyfriend. I wasn’t as strong as Easton was, but I tried to stab the man in all the spots on the neck and throat as he told me to do.

The bigger man slammed me against the wall, nearly knocking the wind out of me, but he was quickly bleeding out. He dropped to his knees, and I used the opportunity to bring him down finally. With two hands raised in the air with a fisted knife hovering over him, I straddled his back and brought it down right below his skull.

He instantly went limp, and I fell off him. I scrambled away, holding out the knife in shaking, bloodied hands. My heart beat so hard it felt like it was trying to claw its way out of my chest.

I recognized him. My torturer. The one who cattle prodded me all the time. The one who promised he would be the first to rape me. Then rage consumed me for the first time. I jumped on the man, and stabbed him over and over, yelling, “Fuck you!”

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