Page 65 of Their Stolen Obsession

As soon as Liv woke up, I’d sneak into Sin’s room. I didn’t give a shit if he was there. She was mine too.

I changed the subject. “What about Sebastian?”

“We’ll deal with him soon.” Sin glanced into the rearview mirror. “Liv is our top priority.”

“Always,” I agreed and punched in a number on my cell phone. “I’m ringing the doc.”

“Now?” Sin questioned with a raised eyebrow. “He’ll be fast asleep.”

I shrugged. “It’s an emergency. We’ll pay him double.”

Liv deserved round-the-clock care. I didn’t give a damn if our doctor had to make a house call in the wee hours of the morning. If he didn’t rise and shine with the roosters, I’d haul his ass out of bed.

“Do it.” The phone was already ringing.

“Hello?” a groggy voice answered on the fifth ring.

“Hi, yeah, doc. It’s Saint calling. We need you at our penthouse in a half hour,” I demanded.

A ruffling sound mixed in with a curse.

“I don’t work until seven.”

“Listen. I don’t give a fuck,” I grumbled, rubbing my chin and growing increasingly irritated. “Don’t make me come over there, doc.”

He gulped. “Fine. I’ll be there, Mr. Sullivan.”

Good. He remembered my name from the last time I had to deal with his poor decisions. I don’t appreciate tardiness.

“See you in fifteen.”

“Fifteen? But you—” I hung up before I let the doc finish.

God. I loved playing games with him. He would arrive at our place early with all his fancy physician gadgets, ready to help Liv recover, so we could pick up all of her broken pieces and mend them back together.

“How’d that go?” Sin asked.

I replied with a grin, “The doc will be early.”

“Perfect.” Sin smiled back at me, and we headed toward our haunted home.

Thirty-Five

Her Predator

Sin

Everything was dark except for the moonlight creating shadows on the ground. The soil revealed silhouettes of the bars on the window of my prison, and I counted them.One. Two. Three. Four. Five.Over and over again.

I couldn’t fucking sleep. Again. I hadn’t slept in days because of the immense amount of pain, and I was pretty damn sure my ribs were broken. Cracked by an asshole at a torture session. He’d kicked me until my chest caved in and I had a tough time breathing. I’d survive, but for how much longer, I wasn’t sure.

I lay there, plotting how I could keep those motherfuckers away from my chest. Another beating to my battered rib cage could be my last. I needed time to heal.Fuck.I might even need a goddamnoperation, but I wasn’t a doctor. Morning would come, another day of torment, and more questions I’d never answer.

Too much time had ticked by. Weeks turned into months, and I grew a goddamn beard. The scruff was itchy as fuck, and I hated it.

Saint and Zane were still alive. We were the three amigos who never wanted to die. Thirsty for revenge, freedom, and a fucking blow job. Christ. I could go for a sweet piece of ass right now. Watch some titties bounce, squeeze my hands into some real-life womanly flesh and get my damn dick wet. If I wasn’t in fucking agonizing pain, my cock would be…

Quickly, a dark shadow cast over the light. I blinked. The moonlight was back.