Page 69 of Vow of Obsession

"So you do have a death wish." Cosima lets out a sigh. Marks gives me a what-the-fuck look. Not over the cop either; it's over Cosima. Doesshehave a death wish?! I mean, there’s a difference between mouthing off to Z and someone who is pointing a gun at you.

“You shut the fuck up!” he barks at her, losing his façade.

“What do you want?” Cosima asks, not shutting the fuck up. Not really that shocking.

“The wife, which of you is her?” He points the gun at Marks and me, motioning between us.

“War’s wife?” Cosima takes another step toward him. He swings the gun back toward her. Has she lost her fucking mind?

“I told you to shut the fuck up!” he shouts at her.

“He looks like he smells: like two-day-old McDonald’s fries left in the car,” Marks mutters to me, which only makes Woods swing his gun back to us. “You’ve got the ring. You’re coming with me.” That gun trains solely on me. I run my thumb against the underside of my ring.

“That’s not happening.” Marks steps in front of me.

“Oh my God.” I push past her. “Yes, I’m Warren’s wife.”

“She’s not going with you,” Cosima informs him like she’s in charge here.

“How about I put a bullet in you and see if that holds true?”

“That would be awfully loud. Draw attention. You don’t want that, do you?”

“She’s coming with me.” He steps closer, putting the gun under Cosima's chin. “You know what?” Woods licks his lips. “I think I’ll take you too.” My stomach sinks. “In fact, I think I’ll take all of you.”

Chapter Thirty

WARREN

Iroll up the sleeves of my button-up shirt up before loosening a few of the buttons at the top. “Are you going to beat the kid in the office?” Ronan asks.

“Someone is going to pay.” I pull my gun out from inside the glove box. I had Ronan stash it for me. I didn’t want Tova to notice it when I was seeing her off. It would only worry her. I click the safety off before holstering it again.

“Isn’t that why you burned down one of their warehouses?” Ronan checks his own gun.

“That was only an appetizer.” I step out of the SUV. Z is already there, leaning up against the building, fiddling with his phone. He appears pissed off.

“Yeah, some of my shit isn’t working.” He slips the phone into his back pocket, only to pull out another. He flips it in his hand, catching it.

“Is that a problem?”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with this.” He nods to the building. “We’re a go on my end. All systems have gone dark.”

“All right.” Z pushes off the wall, heading for the side door. If Mr. Woods thinks we’d come in the front door, he isn’t the brightest, but that much is clear already. He lets his son sport abadge and abuse it. Not even in a functional manner. It’s rather wasteful. But he might know his son isn’t the brightest and knew he’d be more trouble than he’s worth.

Z makes quick work of the lock. “I love that everything is digital these days.” He smirks, pulling the door open for us.

We slip in, taking the stairs up the four flights. When we exit the stairs, a woman with thick glasses pops up from behind her desk. They don’t cover the wide-eyed expression that takes over her face.

“Martha,” I greet her. I’d gone over the building's floor plan along with the staff on Mr. Woods' primary floor, which happens to be at the top. He has the only office on this floor. The others are conference rooms.

“Can I, ah, help you?”

“Did Woods not inform you of our meeting?”

She rapidly shakes her head. “He didn’t say he had a meeting.”

“Why don’t you take your lunch break?”

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