Page 29 of Carved Obsession (The Sanctum Syndicate #4)

Carter

I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times I’ve been surprised in all my conscious years, and I’ll still have fingers left.

What I’m witnessing currently is one of those moments. And potentially the most surprising of them all.

Because Miss Scarlet Brasa-Glass currently jumps like a madwoman—a painfully fascinating, stunning madwoman—with what I can only presume is the Baldvain sacrificial dagger clutched in her hand.

Sweet Mary, mother of Jesus . . .

“She stole it,” I whisper to myself, watching from within the shadows of the forest as she hands the dagger to her father and heads back to her car.

This impromptu trip has been surreal, to say the least.

After I dropped off Maddox, I was about to rush to my house, but I had to pause and remind myself that Scarlet has been messing with my mind, clouding it, masterfully switching my attention and turning me rash.

I opened that link once more and confirmed my suspicion.

The video was a recording. A recent one, judging by the lack of light streaming through the windows.

I changed my route to Scarlet’s house in an instant.

Just as I was setting off, the spy-cam app alerted me to movement.

The wretched little kitten was strutting inside her bedroom, all sunshine and butterflies as she turned on the music and started dancing around as she undressed.

She was already hypnotizing me with her swaying hips, arms high above her head as she moved to a rhythm I didn’t even register.

I couldn’t keep watching. Not when I knew breaking into my home, again, and stealing from me prompted the excitement.

Speed limits became guidance as I drove through Queenscove, toward her house. I was fucking ready to confront the kitten.

Only, even the best laid plans don’t work out. By the time I parked behind her property and scaled the wall, her car was following another out of her drive. I didn’t debate it as I went after them, following at a healthy distance.

When they finally reached their destination in Cranwick, the wealthy part of town with expensive mansions spaced far apart, I hid in the woodland shadows that surround the property.

It’s then that I realized Scarlet was with her father.

The confusion grew, but I had a feeling all my questions would be answered soon.

She was so excited as she expertly broke into someone’s garden. A secure place, too. The itch to follow her and learn more burned deep, but I couldn’t. I kept an eye out while researching the property owner on my phone, trying to figure out why she’s here.

Things started falling into place when I discovered it’s Randy Wayne’s house. I’ve heard of him. He’s a wannabe interloper, dealing in hard drugs at a medium scale, but that’s not the reason why the man reached my radar—that Baldvain dagger is.

The one Scarlet is currently holding proudly in her delicate hands as she jumps around after rushing out of the man’s estate.

A precious, ancient artifact from the Bronze Age. A sacrificial blade used by the Baldvain civilization, lost over a hundred years ago. The ruby on its hilt is worth more than some people can fathom, but the whole dagger itself is priceless in cultural value.

Wayne bought it for millions on the black-market, after it was randomly found in a storage unit. Then the fucking idiot made the mistake of bragging about it.

It’s irrelevant now, because it looks like he’s no longer its owner.

Watching Scarlet victoriously celebrate stealing the blade from this idiot gives me a strange sense of satisfaction and uneasy anticipation.

As she and her father climb back into their cars, I run back to mine and follow them once again, trying to keep a healthy distance now that the night has grown quieter.

After about twenty minutes of driving, we stop once more. This time, not in the expensive suburbs or the outskirts, but right in the center of the next town over. I park in the shadows, tucked around the corner where I can still get a view of their cars.

“Where are you going?” I whisper to myself.

Scarlet’s father steps out of his car, hood pulled well over his eyes as he takes a left and disappears between two towering buildings.

I look for Scarlet, who parked a couple cars back from him on the same street, but she makes no attempt to climb out or follow.

What’s happening here?

Pulling my phone out, I open the maps app, hoping that one bar of signal can do the job and update my location, but that damn loading wheel keeps going and going, and a familiar strain tugs at my temples.

I could turn on my dashboard and access the car’s GPS, but that damn thing will light me up like a Christmas tree and risk attracting attention. In a flash, the map on my phone jumps and the location updates just as a bright beam lights up the night before me.

“Shit!” I drop the phone on the passenger seat when Scarlet’s car joins the main road, following her father’s vehicle.

Whatever they were doing, they were damn fast.

I stay as far away as I can, following them back to where they left their cars, and the road becomes familiar once they make the switch. We’re heading back to Queenscove.

Only, as they pull onto the main road and reach the first junction, Scarlet’s father drives in the expected direction, but not her. She makes a left instead, and I don’t even debate my next step. I follow her, wondering where she could possibly be going now, well after midnight.

Unless she’s seeing a man.

Maybe that’s where she went after she left me in front of the coffee shop, and why I couldn’t find her until she went home tonight, too happy and excited.

My grip tightens on the steering wheel, chest strained, as tension builds between my brows.

No, no way. There was no indication in all the digging I’ve done about any other new boyfriend since her separation.

She could have found one since.

This bothers me so much more than it should. The idea of her with another man brings a strange, empty-yet-overflowing sickly sensation in my stomach. The idea of Scarlet with another man simply doesn’t fit. It can’t.

She fucking can’t.

I keep following the woman, trying to figure out where I’m being led. I’ve never been around here, but it looks like she knows exactly where she’s going, taking deliberate turns along the way.

We’re well out of the city now, the roads quiet, thick clouds closing in and swallowing the moonlight.

I’m staying as far back as I can, but Scarlet speeds up dangerously. She races into the distance and takes the next left, about a quarter of a mile out.

“She knows. Fuck!” I snap at myself. My foot sinks onto the gas pedal to catch up to her.

No point in hiding anymore. Clearly, I haven’t done a great job at it.

Her car is fast, though, and by the time I get remotely close to her, we’re driving through a lush laurel forest, the darkness thick as smoke here.

I’m about to be thankful she’s still sticking to the main road when the reckless woman takes a sharp right and disappears down a forest track, headlights flashing between the trees.

The moment I turn onto the track, lightning cuts across the dark sky like an omen, illuminating the menacing clouds.

One, two, three, fo—

Thunder shatters the night, its boom swallowing my engine’s rumble moments before thick ribbons of rain drench my windshield. I almost skid, startled by the sudden downpour, but Scarlet hasn’t really slowed down.

I’m driving like a maniac to keep up with her, the bumper and underside shield scraping over the mounds in the middle of the road created by years of heavy vehicles running through.

Yet, it’s her I’m more worried about. A crippling thought pierces my mind—she doesn’t know who she’s running from. If panic or fear kick-started the need to escape, she could make mistakes in this worsening weather.

I need to stop this.

I flash my lights like a white fucking flag, hoping she’ll get the memo and slow down.

But it’s no use. The only time she actually hits the brakes is when there’s something on the dirt road, and each time, I notice the slight skid of her wheels.

This rain has come too fast. The road is drenched, puddles already formed.

Fuck it, I’ll stop and turn around. At least then she’ll calm down. Because at this point, I’m worried she’s gonna fucking kill herself trying to escape me.

I slow down gently, trying to avoid that fate myself, when Scarlet brakes and turns, drifting in a surprisingly masterful way to the right and disappearing through the trees. When I pass that point, her headlights disappear down that narrow track.

Braking to a stop, I drop my head back, expelling a heavy breath I’ve been forcing down. The rain doesn’t fall. It pours. Buckets bash my car like it owes it something.

This doesn’t change anything—I’ll still confront her, demand an explanation. Punish her.

But I can drive back to her house and wait for her there. Maybe kidnap her, tie her up in my church. Force her to reveal all her dirty secrets.

Like why she’s breaking into criminals’ houses and stealing precious items in the dead of night.

Why she’s nowhere to be found online and has almost no virtual footprint.

What was she doing when she came into the fetish club to take those photos of me?

And...why exactly she isn’t yet divorced from that asshole of a man.

I haven’t figured out why I want to ask that last question. It brings nothing to the current predicament, but for whatever reason, I find it important to know.

Deeply lost in thought, I hear the car coming at me from behind before I see it. Its headlights are off.

I press my foot on the gas when I realize she has no intention of stopping, but my damn wheels skid into the mud, taking too long to get a fucking move on.

The rain is too thick, the road too slippery with mud and gravel, and I barely catch some speed when Scarlet’s car slams into me from behind, propelling me forward.

“Fuck me, woman!”

Damn, she’s mad.

She doesn’t relent. Her headlights flash, blinding me in the rearview mirror, and I have the pleasure of watching them approach at speed just before she rams into me once more. I clench the steering wheel, attempting to keep the car steady as it skids left and right.

Really mad.

But I’m fucking annoyed now too. I brace against the steering wheel and slam my foot on the brake. Metal shrieks against metal as she crashes into me, and pain blooms in my neck from the strain.

My dashboard lights glitch dangerously, but the car still moves when I press the gas, so I ignore it. I look over my shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of her.

Is she okay?

Tightness grips my chest in a cold vise. Only one of her headlights works, and at the same time I notice movement in my mirror, she accelerates once again.

For some odd reason, I feel a tug at the corner of my lips as that vise eases behind my ribs, and I accelerate more as she nears me.

All those flashing lights definitely mean something, because even though I catch some speed, it’s not nearly enough to put distance between us.

At the same time, lightning strikes in front of us, closer than I’ve ever witnessed it before, and the tree it hits falls in a flaming heap onto the dirt road.

I slam the brake, hoping my foot can find another magic length to this damn pedal before I crash into that broken tree. I pull the steering wheel to the left to avoid a head-on collision. My wheels catch on something hard, and my ass hurts as I bump the seat, the seat belt cutting into my shoulder.

In a blinding light, with a deafening crash against my side, my world spins off of its axis. Over and over. The car tightens around me, changing shape as pain stings through my neck and white fabric blows around me, cushioning my body.

“Holy...fuck.” I blow out a loud, thick breath like I’m using it to figure out if my lungs still work and my heart is beating.

It’s definitely still beating because I can hear it in my fucking ears and feel its thump in the backs of my eyes.

I’m upside down.

Lovely.

Where’s Scarlet?

The thought rams into me harder than anything else tonight, and I rush to crush down the airbags surrounding me, fumbling for my seatbelt. But the fucking thing either isn’t responding, or my movements are too frantic.

I try to brace my feet to push myself up and release the tension on it.

“Goddamn it, unclip, you bastard!” I rage, screaming into this damn storm I can now feel through my smashed window. “Fuck! Scarlet!”

I need to get to her.

“Yes?”