Page 11 of Deadly Obsession

“What she doesn’t fancy is the lack of confidence.

When you’re breaking a stallion, it’s all about confidence.

A woman is the same, maybe more difficult, I reckon.

” I chuckled and took a drink just as Sera elbowed my chest, causing me to spit a bit out onto my shirt.

The three of us broke out into good-hearted laughter until my eyes locked on to something across the patio.

Lyndsey and Lola were sitting on the large stone wall of the firepit, both staring into Lola’s phone, undoubtedly laughing at a TikTok video.

But what caught my eye was Robert, who was seated on Lyndsey’s opposite side, one hand poised near her red Solo cup as he slipped something inside it.

Then, concealing the bag in his palm, he stood with guitar in hand and went over to where his case was resting and began putting it away.

Immediately realizing what he had done, I could sense my entire body tense as I nudged Sera. “Let me up a minute, Harps. ”

“Oh, okay,” she said, a bit of confusion in her voice. But she didn’t question me, claiming my spot on the chair once I was up.

My mind was racing, my instincts telling me to yell out across the patio for Lyndsey not to drink from her cup, and then break Robert’s neck. That, however, could ruin the entire vacation for everyone.

No, I could do this without raising the alarm too much. The Marine Corps and ranch life had taught me to be much more tactful than that.

Taking slightly longer than usual strides, I closed the distance between Lyndsey and myself without looking suspicious. I plastered a grin on my face as I passed her, spun around, and backed into a seated position on her free side, where her drink sat.

“What are you ladies laughing at?” My ass met with her cup, pushing it back into the firepit and spilling the contents.

“James! Fuck, my drink!” Lyndsey cried out just as I sat down, the sound of the ice tumbling out catching her attention.

“Ah, shit, I’m sorry!” I said apologetically, though my eyes were honed in on Robert standing directly across from me.

His eyes met mine, and I knew he knew I knew .

“I’ll go make you another drink.” I pushed to my feet and offered Lyndsey a smile before turning to Robert.

“Why don’t you come with me, brother. Forgot I had something I wanted to show you. ” I kept my tone level but insistent.

“Yeah, sure thing, man,” he answered as I stepped off, leading the way, with Rob tailing behind me.

I opened the sliding glass door to the dining room, allowing him to walk inside first.

“Hey, man, so what’s up? You’re acting weird, dude,” he started to say, turning around just as I shut the glass door behind us.

Before he had the chance to fully face me, my right fist caught him across the jaw, adding momentum and causing his entire body to spin all the way to the floor.

Was it a cheap shot? Maybe, but at this point, I didn’t owe the bastard anything.

He landed on his chest, and I kicked him in the ribs until he rolled over onto his back, allowing me to place my size-thirteen Stetson on his throat.

Robert squirmed, moving to grab my boot and push it off.

But I was a lot stronger than he was and pressed down harder till I felt the change in pressure I knew all too well.

Marjah, Helmand Province, Afghanistan

13 February 2010

The 3rd Battalion 6th Marines was part of a massive operation to retake the city from the Taliban forces.

My company was inserted in the first wave of helicopters in the northern part.

The sun hadn’t even come up and yet thousands of Marines alongside British and Canadian forces were converging on all sides from the ground and air. Building by building, street by street.

That was the first time I killed a man. My squad had cleared multiple buildings already. I’d fired plenty of shots but it was anyone’s guess who’d hit the targets.

We were currently stacked outside another door. Lance Corporal Salinas was the first to enter and cross the room. Private Johnson was the second. As infantry Marines, we’d trained constantly. Practiced how to clear rooms, enter danger zones, and breach a building.

Rule number one: If the first man crosses straight, the second man is meant to button hook, U-turning into the room to clear the corner opposite the Marine before him.

Rule number two: Once the squad starts pouring in, you don’t stop; you get in fast and hard.

Johnson forgot rule number one. If he hadn’t, he likely would have spotted the hostile hiding in the corner behind the dresser. He didn’t and caught multiple 7.62 rounds to the back, dropping instantly.

As the third man, I saw Johnson—aka Scarecrow—go the wrong way.

And out of my peripherals, I watched him start to go down.

Everything seemed to blur in that moment.

I didn’t even remember hearing the sound of the AK-47 going off.

I just remembered turning the corner and spotting a man with a rifle in his hands.

And I remembered pressing the trigger once, maybe twice, but that was all.

A second later, it seemed I was straddling a stranger on the ground, his blood soaking through the trousers of my uniform from multiple holes in his chest. He wasn’t dead, though.

His eyes looked up into mine. Wide and afraid and glossy.

That was when I realized my hands were wrapped around his throat, the full weight of my body pressing down on my arms. On his neck.

I think I heard screaming from behind me, someone yelling for a corpsman and maybe calling out “Samuel,” Johnson’s first name. I pressed harder on the man’s throat and felt a pop and snap, and suddenly he went limp. And then a hand appeared on my shoulder, shaking me.

“Mustang! James!”

“James! What the fuck, mate!” a male voice yelled, a pair of hands pulling me back by the shoulders. Off Robert and not the stranger in my mind.

I spun on my boots, cocking an arm. Only to stop when my eyes settled on the light-skinned, ginger-haired figure of Brian, his eyes wide with fear and confusion.

The sound of hard coughing and wheezing had me looking down and shoving Brian’s hands away.

Creating some distance as I slammed my boot on Robert’s flat hand on the floor when he tried to push himself upright.

“James!” Brian yelled again as Robert cried out in pain.

I held up a hand to silence them. “Bastard tried drugging Lyndsey just now. Poured something into her cup. Luckily, I saw it before she had the chance to drink it.”

Brian paused and looked at me, then down at Robert. “Fucking hell, that’s why you knocked her drink over. Knew you weren’t snookered.”

I nodded and returned my attention to Robert.

Stepping in front of him, I grabbed him by the collar and landed one more right hook.

Sending a tooth flying across the floor this time.

“I’m not going to let you ruin this trip for the girls, so I’m not going to kill you and I’m not going to tell them what a fucking piece of shit you are…

yet. You are going to get up, grab your shit from the room, jump in your car, and get the fuck out of here.

Now. Am I clear?” I said, allowing my spit to splatter over his face.

He shook his head slowly, and I could tell from the way his eyes were moving that he was disoriented. “My… my guitar,” he muttered, blood trickling down from where his tooth had been.

“You had a family emergency and forgot to grab it. You aren’t going anywhere near those women.

That’s my guitar now.” Standing, I looked to Brian and then towards the closed sliding glass door that was vibrating from the music playing outside.

Chances were the girls didn’t hear anything.

“Brian, go back out there. Bring Lyndsey a Long Island. If they ask about me or Robert, say we are having a guy chat.”

Brian nodded, glancing at Rob’s bloodied face, then stumbled over to the kitchen, where he made Lyndsey’s drink before heading back outside.

“Let’s go, asshole,” I said as I dragged Robert to his feet and shoved him towards the bedroom to grab his things. I was going to make sure he left.