Page 202 of The Sweetest Obsession

Then the yacht stops so abruptly we’re flung apart.

He goes skidding toward the railing, the gun spinning after him.

I hit the floor, landing hard on my shoulder, then roll and take a leap, snatching at the gun, scrambling for it with both hands.

I catch it just as the engine dies with a shuddering groan.

I’m falling to my knees, flicking the safety on the pistol, while Aleksander flails up against the deck railing.

I’m winded as I glower at him.

“Fucking stand up. Hands behind your back!”

“Oh, fuck you, pig,” he says, lying there awkwardly, his face streaked in blood and contorted with hate. “You—”

The yacht’s engine growls to life again.

The boat goes jolting forward.

I let out a startled groan, rocking unsteadily while Aleksander screams.

The sudden momentum shoves him through the bars of the deck railing.

Overboard.

Dammit.

I can’t decide if I’m relieved or pissed at the tiniest chance he could escape. We have to get him the hell out of the water before he has any bright ideas.

I drop the gun and bolt to my feet, rushing to the railing, looking for him.

Just in time to see his garish white tuxedo and that stark blond hair disappear into the churning waves.

Followed by an ugly bloom of crimson.

The yacht shudders and stops again.

A minute later, a lifeless shape, mangled almost beyond recognition appears.

He’s nothing but shattered limbs floating face down, bobbing up to the surface.

“Oh my God, the engine. I-I didn’t mean to do that!” Ophelia calls from the wheelhouse, her voice hollow.

I look up and nod.

Nobody’s gonna mourn one less psycho, murdering asshole sucking up oxygen, especially me.

I wouldn’t have pulled the trigger on him myself unless I had no choice, no. But there are times when I’m damned glad fate doesn’t make me choose real justice over my oath to law and order.

Soon, Ophelia’s feet patter on the deck, rushing up to me.

“Jesus. Are you okay? Did you—” She freezes, standing at my side, staring over the railing with her mouth a solid ring. Her face goes ashen, one trembling hand pressed to her mouth. “Holy shit. I... I definitely didn’t mean to dothat.”

It’s the look on her face that clears the adrenaline fog holding me in place.

Without thinking—hell, I can’t remember why I ever made myself wait, why she needed distance when life is so fucking short—I pull her into my arms, pressing her so close.

She comes willingly, trembling, burying herself against me while I curl a hand against the back of her head.

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