Page 61 of Sinful Obsession

I stepped outside, casual as ever, lingering by the two cars parked in the driveway.

I sat on the hood of one, swinging my legs, forcing a laugh as if I were carefree.

Then I started walking north, toward the woods, my steps measured. The unremovable tracker bracelet on my wrist glinted, a shackle Cassian thought would keep me tethered.

He’d assume I was strolling, not fleeing. He had to.

The woods loomed, dark and dense, their shadows swallowing the daylight.

As I crossed the treeline, an eerie familiarity hit me.

I shook it off, my boots crunching on leaves, the air thick with moss and damp earth.

I walked for fifteen minutes, then twenty, my pace slowing as exhaustion crept in.

The morning sun beat down, sweat beading on my brow, my pregnancy symptoms flaring—nausea, dizziness, a heaviness in my limbs.

I sank against a tree, panting, my hands cradling my belly.

The sun was merciless, my throat parched.

I pushed on, branches snagging my clothes, tearing at my skin.

A squirrel darted across my path, and I flinched, stumbling into a thorn bush.

Thorns bit into my leg, drawing blood, but I gritted my teeth and kept going. “It’ll be worth it,” I whispered to my baby, my voice hoarse.

Further in, a low growl froze me.

A wolf, its eyes glinting through the underbrush, stalked closer. My heart pounded, but I stood still, barely breathing, until it turned and vanished.

My legs shook, weak from fear and fatigue.

Later, I slipped on a muddy slope, my ankle twisting, pain shooting through me. I bit back a cry, forcing myself forward, thirst burning my throat, my body screaming to stop. But I couldn’t. Not for me, not for my child.

As dusk fell, the woods thinned, and I crawled, gasping, to the river’s edge.

My legs were swollen, my skin scratched and bruised, my vision blurry from exhaustion. But there it was—an electric boat, bobbing in the current. I clutched my belly, whispering, “We’re almost there, baby. I’ll protect you. I swear it.”

I fumbled for the burner phone, calling Ethan.

He answered instantly. “I made it,” I gasped, my voice barely audible.

“Well done, Charlotte,” he said, his voice warm but urgent. “Get in the boat. I’m waiting on the other side.”

“I’m so tired,” I admitted, my legs buckling as I climbed into the boat.

“You can do this,” he urged. “You have to.”

I stared at the controls, panic rising. “Ethan, I don’t know how to drive this.”

“Listen,” he said, calm but firm. “Flip the power switch, right side. Steer with the wheel, keep it steady. Go slow if you need to.”

I followed his instructions, my hands shaking, my breaths shallow.

The boat hummed to life, rocking on the vast, stormy sea.

The phone sat on the console, Ethan’s voice a lifeline through the wind and waves. “Keep going, Charlotte. You’re almost here.”