Page 110 of Shadows of Obsession

Backtracking into the woods, I circled around to the opposite side of the trail, using the trees for cover as I approached from a new angle. My boots were silent on the packed earth, my pulse steadying as I fell into the rhythm of controlled movement.

I paused to check through the scope one last time, confirming the man inside was still on the far side of the cabin.

Still pacing. Good. Stay distracted.

Satisfied that the coast was clear, I drew my Colt .45 from its holster. The weight was solid and familiar, comforting in a way that probably said something unhealthy about me. But right now, it was exactly what I needed.

I held it at the ready as I darted across the open yard, my body low and quick, covering the distance in seconds that felt like hours. Every moment I was exposed was a moment they could spot me, could hurt Anna before I reached her.

In a matter of heartbeats, I pressed myself flush against the cabin's exterior, my back against the rough wood. My heart pounded in my ears as I prepared to make my move, every muscle in my body coiled and ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.

I forced myself to breathe. Focus. I'd done this before.

I thought of Anna, pictured her face in my mind's eye. The way her eyes sparkled when she laughed, the determined set of her jaw when she faced a challenge, the way she'd looked at me that morning with such trust and affection it had stolen my breath.

She was in there, waiting for me, counting on me to bring her home safely. And I'd be damned if I let her down.

My eyes swept the exterior of the cabin, searching for anything I could use to gain access to the kitchen window above. A glint of metal caught my attention. An old ladder leaning against the side of the shed a few yards away.

That'll work. It was a risk—moving across open ground again, the metal potentially making noise—but one I had to take.

Moving swiftly and silently, I retrieved the ladder and carried it back to the cabin. The aluminum was light but awkward, and I kept it close to my body to prevent it from catching on anything. I was careful not to make a sound that might alert the man inside, my ears straining for any change in the rhythm of footsteps.

I positioned the ladder beneath the window, testing its stability with a gentle shake. The legs settled into the soft earth, and I gave it a bit more weight.

It was solid enough.

Satisfied that it would hold, I holstered my gun and began to climb, my movements slow and deliberate. Each rung required careful weight distribution, testing before committing.

As I neared the top, I paused, listening intently for any sign I'd been detected. The only sound was the muffled pacing of the man in the living room. His footsteps heavy and agitated, punctuated by occasional muttering I couldn't make out.

He was still oblivious. I needed to keep it that way.

With a steadying breath that did nothing to slow my racing heart, I reached for the window. My fingers found purchase on the weathered frame, paint flaking beneath my touch.

I eased the window open, inch by painstaking inch. The old hinges protested with the faintest creak that made my blood run cold.

Shit.

I froze, my entire body going rigid as I waited for any indication that the noise had been heard. My hand remained on the window frame, my other gripping the ladder, muscles locked in place.

Seconds ticked by, each one an eternity. My heart hammered so hard I was sure it would give me away.

But the footsteps continued their relentless rhythm, oblivious to the intruder just outside.

Clear. I had to keep moving.

Carefully, I maneuvered my body through the narrow kitchen window, contorting to fit my shoulders through the opening, pulling myself up and over the sill. The sound of agitated voices from theliving room grew clearer as I slipped inside. Each word sliced through the tense silence like a blade.

The stranger's tone was sharp and biting, each syllable dripping with barely contained rage. In contrast, Jared's voice carried a desperate, pleading edge, his words tumbling over each other in a frantic attempt to placate his captor.

"You said this would work, that he'd give up the money," the man snarled, his voice low and menacing, like the growl of a cornered predator ready to lash out at anything nearby.

"He will, I swear!" Jared insisted, his words tinged with fear and desperation that might have earned my sympathy if I weren't so furious. "Jaxon won't let anything happen to her. Just give him time."

Anna.

At the thought of her name, my heart clenched painfully, a cold knot of dread settling deep in my stomach. The confirmation that she was here, that she was alive but trapped in this nightmare, sent a surge of adrenaline coursing through me, my hands trembling with the need to act.