Page 5 of Carved Obsession (The Sanctum Syndicate #4)

“Before I forget...” I stop, turning back before the door closes. “Willow, before you leave, can you take a broom to the...slight mess at the back?”

The blonde woman raises an eyebrow. “Slight mess?”

“I dropped my phone.”

That eyebrow stays perfectly raised, even as she nods silently.

“Everything okay?” Carmen asks as we walk down the corridor and into the office.

“Peachy.”

“Scarlet . . .”

“Bernard called. I wish Dad would have never taught me to restrain myself. If logic doesn’t touch Bernard, why should I be guided by it?” I roll my eyes, taking a seat in the padded chair behind the small dining table Carmen has in here, and drop our lunches onto it.

“Because, as your dad taught you, you have to protect yourself. Considering the man Bernard proved to be, he’s definitely not worth going to jail for. Right?”

I roll my eyes, though more at myself than her words. “He’s not even worth this conversation.”

“Exactly. Neither your dad nor I am opposed to some old-fashioned vengeance, as you know. But with a family like the Camoras—granted, it’s a tad different now that their dad is gone—you have to be smart about it.”

I frown as I take in her words. “So...what you’re saying is that neither of you are truly opposed to me taking my sweet revenge on that idiot, but I just have to calculate my odds?”

“Well, Arias hasn’t said anything. He’d probably prefer if it didn’t get to that, but I think the last six months have proven that there are limited ways to resolve this.” She sighs as she unwraps her lunch.

It’s true. I’m pretty open with Carmen and Dad.

They know almost everything that has happened, and though Dad isn’t showing it to me, I know this frustrates him too.

Especially since Bernard and I were kind of shipped together because of his relationship with his late father.

But those genes didn’t seem to have transferred, and though I know Dad would love to storm into their office and tell them to rein in their brother, we don’t know how much the Camoras know of our operation.

Their father was vaguely aware, and Bernard also is, since we’ve been together for six years, but we don’t know if anything was shared further. We demanded secrecy, but who knows.

Carmen’s right—I have to be smart about this.

My mother would have denied me this type of perspective. She doesn’t even fucking compare to Carmen. She might not be my birth mother, but she is more of a mom to me than Emily Glass ever tried to be.

Dad truly is lucky. He didn’t intend to find a partner after Mother, but Carmen came out of nowhere.

There was no way either of us would have let her go.

She’s sweet, cunning, talented, and head over heels in love with him, even after all these years.

I was seventeen when they met, eighteen when they got married on a whim, and she’s been in our lives for eleven years now.

“I got you a Serrano-ham and cheese pastry, and a brownie for dessert.” I dodge that conversation. I don’t want to waste any more words on that asshole.

“Music to my ears.” She complies without arguing and brings us two glasses of water, two empty glasses, and a bottle of wine from the wine fridge she keeps religiously stocked here. “Anything else bugging you?”

She can read me like a book sometimes, because regardless of my ex, I can’t stop thinking of the man who looked at me like I shattered the earth beneath his feet.

“Nothing. Just hungry,” I lie.

She cocks her head, the three permanent wrinkles between her brows deepening. “Okay.”

“Did you move any of the new pieces today?” I change the subject again.

“A few, yes. Another twelve online, and I have one left.”

“That’s fucking fantastic. Well done!”

“Like you ever doubted me,” she says with a smug look on her pretty, olive-skinned face.

“I didn’t, but I’m just glad we’re getting rid of the Erickson stones. I was getting antsy about carrying them. There’s been some heat about them, even if the police can’t be called, since they were stolen in the first place. But there’s talk going around.”

“But the job you and your dad pulled was clean. Erickson hasn’t discovered who pulled the heist and stole his jewelry. Right?” Carmen looks a little bit worried now.

“No, he hasn’t. As always, we left no trace.”

But I never get overconfident about these jobs.

Even after all these years. Because overconfidence leads to complacency, and that turns into error.

So, we are meticulous, careful, and extremely calculated.

I also monitor the situation for months, and even years after, to make sure no one catches wind of us.

Though, calculated is not how I feel right now. No...I feel positively reckless.

There’s fire burning through my veins, even as I put on this calm mask with Carmen, and that need to look over my shoulder has returned with a vengeance.

As I slowly chew on my pastry and smile sweetly at her, fear, excitement, and a sliver of doom run wild through my soul.

My time is up.

My days are numbered.

The Carver is coming for me.

Carter

“What the hell are you going to do, Carter? You can’t chase her through town in the middle of the damn day!” Maddox plants his wide frame in my path, stopping me from rushing back to Midnight, where my car’s parked.

“Get out of my way, Severin,” I seethe.

“Not until you tell me your plan. Because whatever you’re about to do concerns us all. Not just you.”

The next inhale lands heavy in my chest. He’s right, but that doesn’t mean he’s entirely correct. Yes, my actions bear consequences on all of us, but this only concerns me. She was my fuckup.

“Don’t talk like I’ve done anything to put our Sanctum in danger. Ever. Between us, I think I’m the only one who hasn’t. So, again, Maddox, get out of my way.”

The impact of my words reflects in his eyes. An emotion I can’t quite place shines through the amber, but I don’t have time to dissect it and figure out what it is.

He sighs, shaking his head, but steps aside. I walk away with determined steps, but a giggling woman and her child cross my path without looking, cutting me off and stopping me.

This singular pause triggers something within my brain.

On a loud exhale, I clench my fists, then take a deep, centering breath inward.

What the fuck am I doing?

This is illogical.

First of all, the woman is already gone. I can’t possibly predict where to find her.

Second of all, there are much better ways of finding her now. I can use Queenscove’s CCTV system. Her license plate. Even criminal records or images of her for reverse searches. I have something to go by, finally.

One more breath in, and calm settles.

It’s okay. It was just a momentary lapse in judgment.

Understandable, since I’ve been trying to find her for so long.

My memories of that night are vivid, and even though I stared at the same person today, she looked.

..different. She exhibited a feral confidence, when the night we met she was just feral.

A need I couldn’t quite place had overshadowed her.

And she’d seemed awfully excited about the murder I was committing.

But today, with all that brimming confidence, she looked. ..radiant.

Radiant?

“So? Are you coming?”

I clench my fists tighter to keep from jumping as Maddox pulls me out of my irrational daze.

Radiant?

Turning, I walk past him and straight into the restaurant.

I have no intention of recounting the events to Vincent and Finnigan. Especially not with Cillian there. I already feel a certain way because Maddox witnessed what I can only describe as a brief moment of madness.

Normally, I would be quite interested in listening to the type of situation Cillian has been describing to us. He’s taken over his father’s business and some people have been breathing down his neck. This is the type of information I take interest in. Usually. But I cannot bring myself to care now.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I’ve been assimilating the information he’s throwing at us, yet the importance of it hasn’t registered.

Dark eyes are all I see. Thick, wispy lashes, and wavy hair falling in neat, dark waves.

The image of her isn’t soundless, because words from the night we met echo along with it in a soft, delicate voice— you should have made him suffer.

There was no remorse, no fear, no tremble in those syllables. Utterly fascinating.

My hunger is gone before my order arrives. I manage a glass of spiced rum and three bites of food, then excuse myself before the others are even midway through their lunch. I tell Vincent and Finnigan that I’ll fill them in later, say my goodbyes, and head straight for Midnight.

I know what he’ll think, so I text Maddox to let him know I’m leaving to do my research on her, not go after her. It will ease his mind, and for some reason, I care about that.

Caring. What an unusual concept. Somewhere in our timeline, I’ve attached myself so tightly to these people that I would do unspeakable things to protect them.

I actually have. I know how they look at me sometimes.

Like my lack of empathy and emotions pertains to them too.

They wonder how easy it would be for me to drop them.

To simply turn my back and choose a completely different path.

It wouldn’t be easy. And it’s never going to happen.

But they never asked me personally, so I never told them.

The five-minute walk back to Midnight takes me barely two. I rush in, passing quickly through the barroom and startling the staff and security. I don’t offer an explanation as I head straight to the office, grab my laptop, and hurry to my car. I’ll be better off at home with my entire tech setup.

No resources will be spared for her.

This kitten is out of lives.

She’s mine.