Page 14 of Their Stolen Obsession

I watched in shock as he helped Knoxlee to her feet. “Are you all right?”

Knoxlee didn’t speak. She simply stared at him, probably as surprised as me, as she watched him kick Steve’s body away. The lifeless being resembled a piece of garbage, bleeding at our feet. Blood pooled and made its way down the drain.

“You should get out of here.” Zane nodded at Knoxlee.

Knoxlee nodded in response, but she locked eyes with me. Her irises were full of concern as Zane stepped out in front of her and blocked her from view. He threw fresh clothing at me but wouldn’t look at me.

“Get dressed,” he ordered.

I hurried, doing as Zane instructed. He had given me a white tank top with a full zip sweater and jogging pants. The size was too big for me, but it was nice to have clean clothing. I didn’t care how they fit or how they appeared. My attackers had raped me, beaten me, starved me, and held me captive. I aimed only for freedom, but the odds were against me.

“Come on…” Zane muttered as he motioned for me to get in front of him with his gun. “Let’s get you back.”

I walked past Knoxlee as she watched me, and she didn’t make a peep. She knew better and kept silent. She obeyed, as I had grown to notice, and she could roam freely.

Why was that?

Did Phoenix truly own her?Ridiculous.But was his ownership of Knoxlee that far-fetched?

As I followed Zane back the way we’d come, I realized I had much more to learn about this dangerous place. I found myself trapped inside this fortress with no escape, forcing me to fight for survival.

I wasn’t sure how long the journey took to get back to the room I didn’t want to return to. I tried to count as we made our way back, but I lost track at five hundred. This empire was massive, even bigger than I had feared.

“Open the door,” Zane ordered.

I laid my hand on the doorknob, but couldn’t bring myself to turn it.

“I don’t want to. Please don’t make me go back in there,” I pleaded with my eyes closed, praying he’d let me go.

Zane hesitated. I held my breath. Nothing happened for an entire six seconds.

The gun nudged my back. “Do it.”

“Fine.” I exhaled and turned the knob.

The door to my dungeon opened and Zane pushed me inside. I spun around to glare at him, but I was surprised to see him place the freshly cleaned bucket back on the floor. Upon further investigation, I saw the floor shine anew, and I no longer smelled urine. He had mopped, and a blanket was on the mattress. To my surprise, there was even a sandwich with a bottle of water beside the sorry excuse for a bed. But I wondered if he had drugged the food to keep me sleepy.

I shook my head. “I’m not hungry.”

“Eat,” Zane ordered as he stepped forward, and I was worried he’d hit me. “Mr. Pitrone doesn’t want his ransom dead. Yet.”

Zane turned to leave and didn’t wait for any argument from me. He knew I’d eat the food and chug the water eventually, but for now, something caught my attention. Mixed in with incredible ink on his back, he had a scar. An old wound engraved right between his shoulder blades. Very noticeable because of its size. It was the same torturous mark my phantoms had.

Ten

Her Predator

Sin

The mission was about vengeance. Retaliation for all that we had taken. There was no room for error or an inch of misstep. Because life depended on us.

The operation was simple. Get in, secure the assignment, and get out. Take back the stolen operative and head back to base. Everything started off great until an explosion went off, resulting in much bloodshed. Somehow, they knew we were coming.

How?Fuck if I knew.

My guess?A mole. A goddamn traitor serving our country. The miserable prick ruined the mission and was downright unholy. He left us all for dead and let us walk right into a fucking trap.

American carnage littered the Iraqi soil at my feet, and I somehow made it out alive.My ears rang as my heart pounded with the adrenaline rush. Body parts were scattered in all directions, and the screams of men were the first thing I heard. Loud, horrific, and frantic. Desperate, in between the balance of life or death until gunshots echoed and made the choice for each of them. The final verdict of an untimely death.