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

Scarlet

“Well, fuck me sideways!” I exclaim.

A wide, cheek-straining smile possesses my face. I can’t help it. I can’t control it. Adrenaline rushes through my nerves, and fear and anticipation tighten my fists around the steering wheel as my foot presses harder against the gas pedal.

It’s been months since I met him in that alley. The chances of us running into each other were close to zero since I didn’t live in Queenscove, but since I moved here, I kept waiting for the unavoidable moment when he would find me.

Every single time I was out, I couldn’t relax. Always looking over my shoulder. At night, I kept checking out the window, tensed constantly.

I decided to find him instead. I’ve seen him several times during this time, but I’ve been confident he’s never seen me once.

If I wasn’t convinced before, I am now, because there’s no way I would have misunderstood this feeling. I felt him like a brewing storm silencing the world. Sizzles of current rushed over my skin as he yanked the air from my lungs. He was everywhere around me, and I was stuck in his violent vortex.

And there was so much violence in his eyes. Even from across the street, there was no missing it. Too many shadows looked back at me. Too dark. Threatening.

He tried to come for me, though I doubt he would have done anything in the middle of the day with all those people around.

The thought bears logic, yet...vengeance was so deeply etched in his frown that I don’t trust he wouldn’t have found a way. Right there. In the middle of Queenscove. I only got away because of pure dumb luck, and he doesn’t appear to be chasing after me.

This is the second time pure luck was the reason I escaped him. The first was when he turned his back on me in that alley, and I ran, hiding in the shadows. I’m dangerously lucky when it comes to evading anything nefarious, but I can’t help wondering if this is a sign that my luck is running out.

I slow the car and take the first left, then pull into the small parking lot behind a three-story building. I barely acknowledge parking the car as that night from six months ago filters through my memories.

Time has flown by and stood still all at once. I’m not quite the same person I was then. Pain and anger left wounds, and the aftermath ruined any leftover good memories. My soon-to-be ex-husband and best friend might not be dead, yet I had to mourn their losses either way.

And that’s why it feels like no time has passed at all...because he’s not fucking letting me go. Bernard has an agenda, and delaying this divorce is how he plans to get what he wants from me. For his sake, I hope he’s not holding his breath.

After what I witnessed in that alley, I couldn’t go home.

I went to my parents’ house, trembling with rage once the adrenaline dissipated.

I thought witnessing the chilling nature of murder would keep me satisfied for a while, but it only lasted the ten-minute drive.

Regardless of the manic laughter that overcame me, the thrill of it all, I managed to keep it together all through that night and the following morning.

But the moment I went back to our house, I fucking lost it.

Our bedroom was unrecognizable when I was done with it.

The expensive mattress was burned and ripped to shreds, the furniture was broken into jagged pieces, and every single thing of his was destroyed.

I wanted to decimate every last trace of us, of them —my best friend and husband. The fucking assholes.

That night, I slept in the spare bedroom. He had the decency to leave me alone and not return home. At least that first time.

Thoughts of the dangerous man from the alley kept me sane. Kept me alert. Kept me alive.

And he finally found me. In all his tall, dark, and vicious glory. Sweet Jesus, he’s broken out of both dreams and nightmares. And my dreams of him have been...entertaining, to say the least. Intense. But the vision of him in real life doesn’t compare with my fantasies.

He’s more.

So much more.

Tall, lean, and strong. Sinewy forearms showing under the rolled-up sleeves of his white shirt. Harsh yet beautifully sculpted features, and that kind of firm posture that exudes so much confidence—it’s intimidating without even trying.

So many nights I silently willed him to find me, even through the shivers of fear infused with the pleasure I was giving myself at the thought of it. But now that it’s real, the fear seems to beat the pleasure.

What will he do? Will he really kill me because of what I know?

I jump out of my skin when a knock sounds against my window.

“Willow! Jesus Christ.” The blonde-haired woman smiles as she takes a step back so I can get out.

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” She puts her hands up and shrugs.

“You didn’t. You just startled me.”

“You did seem quite lost in thought. All good?”

No.

“Yes, all good, Willow. What are you still doing here? I thought you couldn’t work this afternoon,” I ask, changing the subject. With her, I have to do it fast. The woman is such an empath, she doesn’t take long at all to read you.

“I was just on my lunch break. Carmen asked me to stay while you two have lunch. I’m off after.”

“Oh shit.” I whip around and rush back to the car, pulling a bag of pastries from the passenger seat, along with my coffee. “Almost forgot these.”

Willow narrows her gaze on me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Rolling my eyes in response, I set to walk past her when my phone vibrates, the chirping ringtone following. I fumble to readjust everything in my hands and look at the screen—unknown number.

Fuck. Third call today.

“Go in, Willow. I’ll be right in.”

She nods and complies. Albeit reluctantly, as she’s taking in my barely suppressed exasperation.

Swiping at the screen, I answer and prop the phone against my ear. I don’t speak a word, though.

“Afternoon, wife. ” Venom laces his tone. He doesn’t want to be tied to me any more than I want him tied to me. Yet here we are.

“Talk to my lawyer, Bernard. I have nothing to say to you.”

“I don’t care about what you have to say. I’m calling about what you need to do.” The venom carries further.

I burst out laughing. “You may have a different definition of need than the rest of the world, sugar. Leave me the fuck alone.”

“You never used to be so petty. So vengeful and...disobedient. Not with me. Does it hurt your ego so much to give me what I need?”

“Disobedient?” Red-hot rage colors my vision at his gall. “Are you under the delusion that I was nice to you because I was obedient ? You pathetic little man. I gave you fucking respect as a human, as my partner, while I thought you were giving it to me too. Now, all of that—”

“You dare call me—”

“All of that,” I rage at his interruption, “ dear husband , was burned to fucking ashes the moment I found you in bed with my best friend. Those ashes flew in the goddamn wind when I discovered it was going on for so long behind my back. And no, it doesn’t hurt my ego to give you what you want.

I simply don’t fucking want to, because you dare fucking blackmail me with the divorce. ”

“Listen to me, you little bitch. I will get what I am owed!” he seethes.

“If our divorce is not enough incentive, I will hit you where you hurt the most—your family. The Camoras do it for a living, as you well know, and I will not shy away from treating you like one of our customers who doesn’t pay their debts. ”

“Owed? You truly are delusional. I gave you what I did out of the goodness of my black little heart. There was no deal set in stone, no contract, not even a goddamn promise. A quid pro quo while it suited me. Give me the divorce and leave this marriage with your ego intact. And don’t you fucking dare threaten my family. ”

The phone shatters into dozens of pieces when I hurl it at the ground. I don’t even think I hung up, but fuck him! How dare he threaten my family!

I stomp over the scraps of glass and metal and slam my block heels over and over until the shards resemble gravel. When I step away, that smoldering flame inside me has calmed back down, but Bernard’s words still linger. He doesn’t have the guts to go after my family. Nothing but empty words.

Fuck, I hate that he gets to me like this. I’ve been trying really damn hard in the last six months to deny my instincts when it comes to him, but if he keeps this up, I will risk it all to get satisfaction. And it would be so damn sweet.

Getting divorced before I turned twenty-nine wasn’t on my bucket list, but it sure fucking is now. There’s shy of four months left until October. He better make me a free woman by then, or I might just start a war.

I take one slow, deep breath in, allowing it to fill me with an ounce of calm before I go into the store.

I rescue my sim card, just in case it still works, and head inside through the back entrance of my stepmother’s jewelry store.

Well, technically it’s the family’s shop, but she’s the master jeweler.

She and dad have something going on this afternoon, and she asked me to look after the place until closing time at four.

I don’t usually do this, so hopefully I still remember how to work the register and talk to strangers. Customer service isn’t really my thing.

“Scarlet, is that you?” she calls out from down the corridor.

“Hey Carmen!” I greet her as I walk into the front of the store that shines with precious metals and stones locked behind wood-framed, tempered glass displays.

Willow is already busying herself by wiping down some jewelry cases.

“Hi honey! Thank God you’re here. I’m starving!” Her eyes sparkle when she notices the paper bag in my hand.

“And here I was, thinking you’re happy to see me,” I say, chuckling.

“Of course I am!” The curly-haired woman wraps her arm around me, rubbing my shoulder as she guides me toward the office at the back. “Because you brought food.”

“I’ll remember that.” I shake my head, smacking her hand.