Page 39 of Shadows of Obsession

Every time he got close, every time he felt her fear radiating off her in waves, it was like a drug, a rush that coursed through his veins, making him feel powerful and in control. The way he used to feel before she'd ruined everything by leaving. He'd lost that control themoment she dared to walk away, when she'd had the audacity to start a new life without him. He couldn't let that stand.

His fingers traced the edge of the laptop as the memories surfaced. Killing Sam had been a rush. That interfering bitch who'd poisoned Anna's mind against him, who'd helped her plan her escape. The way Sam's eyes widened when she realized he wasn't there to talk, when she saw the knife... exquisite.

But killing the woman in Kansas, the nosy diner owner who'd tried to help Anna, who'd looked at him with suspicion when he'd asked if she'd seen a blonde woman,thathad been transcendent. He'd crossed a line he could never uncross, and he knew it. He just didn't care.

The satisfaction of knowing he could end lives, could shape destinies with his own hands and will, was intoxicating. It made him feel like a god, deciding who lived and who died, who got to keep their pathetic little lives and who didn't. Anna would understand that, eventually. When he found her. When he made her see that she belonged to him, she always had and always would.

Tonight, in this shitty Iowa hotel room, the kind of place that rented by the hour and didn't ask questions, he felt the same cold rage bubbling up again. The room reeked of stale cigarette smoke and cheap air freshener that couldn't quite mask mildew. The bedspread was stained with substances he didn't want to identify.

She'd ditched the phone in this area, probably tossed it in a dumpster or smashed it to pieces. She was learning, getting smarter, and he didn't like it. It meant she might be gaining the upper hand, and he couldn't allow that. Not when he was so close to finding her, not when he was so close to making her pay for leaving him. For forcing him to do what he'd had to do.

He slammed the laptop shut; the sound was sharp in the small room. He strode across the space, his expensive leather loafers scuffing the thin carpet after two weeks on the road. He needed a new plan, a new angle. The old methods weren't working, and time was running out. Anna was slipping away, and he might never catch her.

The thought made him seethe. His fists clenched until his nails bit into his palms. His TAG Heuer, the gift from his parents he'd onceworn with pride, caught the light, mocking him with its precision. Time ticking away. Her getting farther with every passing second.

No.He wouldn't let that happen. He would find her, even if he had to tear through every state in the Midwest to do it. Even if he had to burn down every little town, question every witness, eliminate anyone who got in his way.

Because she belonged to him. No one, neither his brother with his self-righteous badge nor the police too stupid to connect the dots, and certainly not Anna with her pathetic hiding tricks, would stand in his way.

He moved to the window, pulled back the stained curtain, and stared down at the parking lot. His black Audi sat alone beneath a flickering streetlight. Beyond it, the interstate hummed with traffic heading east and west.

She was out there somewhere, probably feeling safe now, probably thinking she'd won. A smile curved his lips—cold and predatory.She has no idea what’s coming.

He pulled out the burner he'd bought at a gas station, untraceable, and opened the notes app. He'd been documenting everything: her patterns, her friends, the places she'd been. The web of connections he'd built in his head tracked every person who might help her.

Sam's family was a dead end. After the funeral they'd made it obvious he wasn't welcome, their suspicious stares said as much. Anna's own family had cut her off last year over some petty argument he'd encouraged. That left Sam's other friends, the ones from that ridiculous horse hobby they'd shared.

He scrolled through names and locations he'd pieced together from social media and from Sam's old emails, accounts he'd accessed before they were shut down. There was that guy: Connor—Connor Whitaker. Sam had mentioned him constantly, some friend who'd moved west to run his family's ranch.

Wyoming? Montana? Colorado?Daniel couldn't remember. His searches had returned nothing concrete. The guy had virtually no social media presence, infuriating in this day and age. No Facebook, no Instagram, nothing but a bare business page for "Whitaker Quarter Horses" with a contact form and no phone number.

Still, Sam's horses had to be somewhere. Estate transfers. Livestock registrations. There had to be a paper trail, he just hadn't found it yet.

His fingers drummed the windowsill as his mind ran through possibilities. Horse shows, where these people congregated, competed, and showed off their animals, were a tight community. Everyone knew everyone.

A slow smile spread across his face.

If Connor was in the business, he'd have a show schedule somewhere. And if Anna was with him, and his gut told him she was, she might surface at a show. Hidden on some ranch now, but eventually they'd have to appear in public, sell horses, or show up on a circuit.

He turned back to his laptop, fingers already moving. Time to research the horse show circuit. Find out where these people gathered. Find Connor Whitaker's schedule.

And when he did, Danielwould be waiting.

CHAPTER 13

Anna

Istood on the front porch of Jaxon's cabin, my knuckles hovering inches from the door. I hadn't expected to be back here so soon, but after everything that happened last night, showing up with breakfast felt like the least I could do to say thank you. Still, as I stood there, I couldn't help but wonder if I was overstepping.

Would he even want me here after last night? He probably hated me even more now, more proof that all I did was bring trouble into Connor's life. The doubt gnawed at me, a relentless voice questioning my every move.

The paper bag in my hands rustled as I adjusted my grip, the eggs shifting against the weight of the bell peppers and cheese. It was a small gesture, sure, but I hoped it would make up for dragging Jaxon into the frantic search for Choco. He'd been instrumental in finding my horse and calming everyone's nerves—especially mine. The memory of his steady presence, the way he'd taken charge and led the search with that quiet, tactical precision, brought a small smile to my face.

Taking a deep breath, I reminded myself that this was just breakfast, it wasn't a declaration of anything more. Still, I couldn't help the flutter of butterflies in my stomach. I'd chosen my outfit carefully this morning, trading one of my new blouses for a vintage tee from a horse show I'd attended with Sam and Connor years ago. Thefabric was worn soft from countless washings, faded green with a jumping horse silhouette on the front. The jeans I'd picked were my favorite pair, the ones that almost fit properly now that I'd gained back some of the weight I'd lost. It was a small boost to my confidence, a reminder that I was more than the scared girl who'd fled.

With a quick exhale, I knocked on the door, my fist striking the wood with a firmness that masked my indecision. I listened for any sound of movement inside, straining to hear footsteps. As the seconds ticked by, I found myself wondering if he was even home, or if I'd made a mistake by showing up unannounced. The silence stretched on, thick and uncomfortable.

I glanced toward the side of the cabin, checking for his Jeep, when the door creaked open. Jaxon appeared, wearing nothing but a pair of dark gray boxers that sat low on his hips.