Page 10 of Their Stolen Obsession (Phantoms and Obsession Duet #2)

Her Predator

Sin

T he 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.

There was no time to think, no opportunity to grieve the loss of them before the enemy dug a gun into my back. I was captured with my fellow soldiers; they forced us into a lineup, and we faced the nemesis we had wanted to destroy.

They might have caught us, but they could never take our freedom, and we’d give nothing up. We were warriors, and we’d never back down. Our silence was our right even in the face of death, and we’d keep our pledge along with our dignity. Even though I was goddamn terrified.

I faced my gruesome fate before a firing squad with my men, consumed by fear of death.

We had failed and lived to pay the ultimate price—a bullet in our heads.

I knew this day could come, and I had never experienced a fear as strong as this in my entire life.

Facing imminent death, I heard the enemy’s Arabic speech and wished I’d learned the freaking language.

Fuck! I had the chance, and I brushed it all away just like my goddamn sorry-ass excuse of a life.

I was too fucking cocky, thinking I had more time to live, had more opportunities to rise and be the man I always wanted to be.

Instead, I stood here listening to profanities because those were the only fucking words I understood.

Jesus Christ. This was the end. I took my final breaths as a countdown echoed in my fucking head.

Three.

I didn’t want to die. This couldn’t be real. I wanted to live, damn it!

Everything was a nightmare, a horrible terror I’d close my eyes and wake up from. I squeezed my eyes shut as beads of sweat fell from my forehead. I opened them back up to the sting of my perspiration. Fuck! A gun was pointed directly at my head; this was real.

Two.

My miserable existence shouldn’t be over.

Memories came to me, and the gratifying moments were bleak, to say the least. I had never known true happiness.

I had never been in love, never experienced a devotion to another that made me as fucking lovesick as a goddamn puppy.

There had not been one occasion where I had cared about someone more than myself.

No obsession, no need to possess and be so damn addicted that I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I craved that kind of affection.

One .

How come I couldn’t have the chance at a soul sucking love story that fucking devoured me? I wanted to experience those moments when I’d stop breathing, thinking, or eating without her at my goddamn side. Fuck!

I craved my other half so goddamn much—she was all I yearned for. She was out there, and I swear to God, if the divine existed, I’d do better. I’d move through hell on Earth to find her if I had one more shot at life.

Zero.

Bullets flew, blood splattered, and men fell to the ground beside me as I held my breath. I knew the air should be gone, should disappear into nothingness, but my lungs remained full. Gunfire ricocheted as small chunks of dirt hit my face and stung me. There was pain, but no immediate death.

I was alive.

I exhaled a shaky, grateful breath. Quickly, I thanked the man upstairs I had never believed in until today, but I wasn’t the only soldier who made it out alive.

There was another brave fuck as petrified as me, but he didn’t show a hint of that terror.

But I could sense his fear from his bright blue eyes as I made out the patch with his name stitched on it.

Sullivan .

An enemy shouted in Arabic as he grabbed me roughly by the shoulder and pushed me forward. Jesus! I needed to learn other languages, but there was one English word I made out.

“Prisoners.”

I almost tripped over a fallen soldier as I gulped down the bile that had collected in my throat from my near-death experience.

A life lesson I never wanted to have again as I stared down at his lifeless eyes and reality sunk in.

That poor son of a bitch could’ve been me, but the enemy had spared me.

They had saved me along with another, but the threat of our demise still hung like a thick, dark cloud looming over our heads.

A man as tall as me stepped forward with the butt of his gun held up high in the air. He headed straight for me, but someone caught my eye over the top of his shoulder, and she shone with radiance.

An angel. My obsession.

“Help me,” Liv whispered, and my motherfucking lights went out.

I shot up. My chest heaved as I gasped for air. Sweat covered my body. Perspiration dripped down my forehead as I grabbed the bedsheet and wiped it over my face.

My worst nightmares were back. The dream gripped me as it always had but never had someone else haunted my night terrors.

My little obsession was there. She had engulfed every fragment of my imagination, dug deep into my consciousness, and invaded my slumber.

She stalked me, possessed me, and clung to me.

Fuck. I needed her so damn bad it was fucking hard to breathe.

I wanted her back. To see her again. Even if Liv was in my messed-up dreams, I’d fight all my inner demons just to experience her one more time.

I lay back down in bed and willed my body to rest. Only sleep wouldn’t come.

I was too restless thinking about Liv. Her smooth curves were as fucking glorious as silk, her plump ass begging for my fingers to dig into her skin.

And her eyes—those goddamn sinful beauties were as vivid as the last time I saw her. The moment someone took her from us.

Our little obsession had turned into our stolen nightmare in a matter of minutes, and she had visited my dreams. An angel in the dark memories I had always hated to relive when I closed my eyes. But I wanted her back.

Goddamn it! Fuck! Give me Liv back !

The torturous thoughts left me on edge, unable to relax, especially with Rocko pawing at my chest. He stretched out against me, his claws revealing themselves. The pointy edges were sharp on my bare skin as I cursed at the prick. I wanted him to leave me alone; the damn pesky cat must’ve snuck in.

Again.

Rocko never slept with Saint. Only in my bed. I despised the cat, and he still came to me for attention. The furry little feline was in for a snapped neck, but I couldn’t do that to my best friend. He loved this fucking cat.

He meowed, purring, as Rocko rubbed his head against the back of my hand.

The warmth of his body lit a small flame inside my wounded heart.

The organ couldn’t heal without the woman I loved near, and the cat brought me strength, a tenderness I needed within the dark that was corrupting my already broken soul.

Fuck this damn pest.

Maybe I cared enough not to want to break Rocko’s neck.

Recollection of the torture Saint and I went through put me in a vile mood.

Yesterday was rough, but today was far worse.

Captivity could do that to a person. Transform a good person into a dangerous human being—lethal to the core and bound to bring evil to any living soul.

I had lived through hell and witnessed extreme brutality during conflict.

I was a prisoner held at war. The nightmarish battle in Iraq followed me every fucking day. But now I replayed the terror in my dreams.

Fuck me.

Finally, I pet Rocko to get him off my chest and escape his harmless scratches. He meowed at me as if he wanted me to come back to bed, but fuck that. Fuck him! I had work to do and a captive to punish.

Sebastian was a rotten piece of shit. He deserved everything we inflicted on him, and we wanted answers. We needed our girl back.