Page 98 of Deadly Obsession

That motivates me.

I belt out the lyrics and immediately, the crowd reacts with hoots and hollers.

Sage drops her hands to her lap; her mouth hanging open.

She’s all I focus on as I croon. The song isn’t even romantic, but the way Sage bites her lip and fidgets on the stool tells me she’s ready to climb me right here in the middle of the bar.

When the song ends, I don’t waste time and grab her hand to pull her toward the door. I ignore the accoladesfrom everyone as I pass by, only pausing to pay our server before squeezing through the crowd to get outside.

We barely make it a few steps out the door before there’s a loud pop followed by a scream. I stop in my tracks and reach for Sage, clutching her arm to bring her to the ground.

My men surround us, guns drawn.

“Are you okay? Did you get hit?”

“N-no.”

Sage’s voice is small and trembling.

“Someone’s shooting at us. I need you to stay behind me, okay?”

“Okay.”

Sage clings to my back, and I order one of my soldiers to protect our rear as we make our way to the SUV. People who were walking down the sidewalk are now running for cover as two more gunshots ring out.

I curse and reach for my gun when a bullet whizzes next to my ear.

“Where are they shooting from?” I ask Jax.

“Fifth floor window across the street. I already have men going over there.”

“Have you called for backup?”

“On the way.”

I need to get Sage out of here, but I also need to find who is shooting at us so I can brutally murder them.

I open the SUV’s door and help Sage inside.

“Lock the doors. Stay down. I’ll be right back.”

I don’t give her time to argue and close the door.

Chapter 23 – Sage

My heart pounds against my chest, my nerves like a hot wire ready to combust.

What the fuck.

What the fuck.

What the fuck.

There’s a literal shootout happening in the middle of the street in Midtown East. Muffled sirens pierce through the nearly soundproof windows, and I cover my ears.

Wait, Elias told me to get down.

But before I dive to the floorboard, the hairs on the back of my neck rise, alerting me that I’m no longer alone. When I turn to see who it is, praying to whatever God will listen that it’s one of Elias’s soldiers, a balmy hand covers my mouth.