Page 4 of Ruthless Obsession

They’re locked in a heated argument.

A slow smile spreads across my face as she stands her ground.

Then his hand lashes out, the back of it cracking against her cheek. She stumbles to the floor, scrambling to stand.

He grabs her by the hair, fist raised.

My hand curls around my Glock. Every part of me wants to storm in and put him down. But we need information. I can’t blow the op. Not yet.

Before I can even open the door, she drives her foot straight into his balls.

I let out a low chuckle.

She’s tough. Fierce. Doesn’t look like she needs saving.

Still, I move.

Glancing in the window again, I notice Toby is gone.

Shit, that motherfucker.

I’d sent Webbs and Flock home hours ago, thinking I’d tail him in the morning. Let him lead me to the missing weapons. I planned to have my brothers back me up then.

Now I’m solo.

I draw my Glock and rush around the side of the house, waiting to see if he exits through the front or back.

A latch clicks.

I turn and catch sight of him slipping through the neighbor’s backyard, disappearing onto the next block.

I take off for my car, dive into the driver’s seat, and fire up the V8. The engine growls to life as I tear down the street.

At the corner, I slam my foot on the brakes and check both directions. Nothing.

He must’ve doubled back.

I whip the car into a U-turn and speed down the block behind the house.

Still nothing.

He’s long gone.

I slam my palm against the steering wheel, jaw tight.

If I hadn’t gotten so distracted watching her kick him in the damn balls—hell, I felt it in mine. I’d have been ready. I loved theway she stood up to the asshole. And watching her hold her own? That did something to me.

Lights off, I ease back into my original spot across the street and kill the engine.

In the morning, I’ll ask the girlfriend when Toby’s supposed to return.

For now, I’ve got time to kill.

I call up Chaz “Psycho” Roberts.

He’s our tech guy. Quiet, brilliant, and lethal behind a screen.

We went to college together. I trusted him with my family’s business before he ever stepped foot in the clubhouse. Then he started showing up, hanging around, proving he could ride and handle shit when things got bloody.