My Obsession (17 page)

Brent turned his head to see what she was looking at and smiled. “Hoping we would be caught again?” he asked, amusement clear in his voice as he echoed her thoughts.

She laughed. “I think letting my kink run free has become my new obsession. And I’m loving it.”

He playfully pinched her nipple and nipped at her bottom lip before pulling away again and leading her down the hall toward the room where she had left her bag. “Let’s grab your things and get you home before we get distracted again. Work is going to come early in the morning, and I’m going to make another attempt to get Michelle to schedule a time for those security updates. She keeps telling me she’s too busy, but I’m pretty sure she’s reluctant to accept such an expensive gift.”

Sandra nodded but remained silent for a long moment. Brent was right. Michelle had balked at Brent paying for the security, even though she couldn’t afford it on her own. But Michelle also knew it was necessary. A few days ago they had come home to find a junkie trying to break in through the window in the office. As soon as they drove into the driveway, he ran, leaving behind a trail of used syringes and a few baggies of drugs that the police had collected when they responded. They confirmed it sounded like a local junkie. The incident had spooked both of them, and Michelle had promised she’d take time off next week and call Brent to set a time for his security consultant to come out. Considering how old and rickety the house was, they hoped it would take only a few days.

Beyond suggesting newer windows or bars over them, the police hadn’t been much help, although they said they would see if a squad car could do a few drive-throughs of the area each night since it was an older neighborhood and only a few miles from the police station. Sandra purposely hadn’t told Brent about the incident because she knew how protective he was, and trying to strong-arm Michelle into doing anything, even if it was for her own good, just made her even more stubborn.

Brent led her to the room so she could grab her bag, and then she followed him down to the garage for the drive home. Sandra had hoped to spend more time with him, but he was probably right. She needed to be fresh for work in the morning.

Until she could get her own car, Michelle had agreed to drop her off and pick her up since she worked downtown as well.

“Damn.” Brent shook his head at the flashing orange-and-white signs stretched across the on-ramp. “Surface streets it is. I forgot the 51 is closed for resurfacing tonight.”

Sandra laughed. “That’s Phoenix for you. There’s always one freeway or another closed. That’s why I’m so glad this entire city is one giant grid. I still remember how to get around, even though I was gone for ten years. The grid stayed mostly the same.”

Brent glanced over at her before returning his gaze to the road. “True. Although the neighborhoods and businesses turn over enough so that even a decade can change things until they are almost unrecognizable. I had to drive to Tempe to meet a client a few weeks ago and I barely recognized it.”

Sandra frowned and pursed her lips. She had never thought to ask where he went to college. “Did you attend ASU?”

“Yes. Got my master’s in Business from there.”

“I didn’t realize you grew up in Phoenix.”

Sandra turned her head so she could look at Brent’s profile as he drove. She wasn’t sure why the stripes of light from the streetlights as they passed made him look like he had stiffened. She shrugged. She had to have imagined it. Brent had no reason to stiffen at such a basic topic of conversation.

“I’ve been here for quite a while. I feel like I’ve seen this city really grow up.”

The answer wasn’t exactly evasive, but it also wasn’t as straightforward as she was used to from Brent. She shrugged and looked back at him. “That explains why you’re a pro at navigating Phoenix even with the detours. A lot of people hate this place, even though I think it’s much easier to get around here than New York. I usually took the subway there. I don’t think I would have survived having to drive in New York.”

He laughed and steered them into the left-turn lane. “I have to admit that the few times I’ve been there on business, I was very thankful for cabs and good maps.”

Sandra opened her mouth to ask him more about his time at ASU, and about where he grew up, but her cell phone rang and buzzed inside her bag. She fished it out and saw Michelle’s number flashing on the screen. “I should get this—it’s Michelle.” She swiped her finger across the phone screen to answer.

“Hey, Michelle. What’s up?”

Michelle spoke in a rush. “I got called back in to work to fix an issue, but I forgot about all the damn
planned
freeway closures tonight, and I just found out the hard way that the I-17 just closed at Thunderbird for a car crash fatality. I resigned myself to taking surface streets all the way there when my car died. I’m on the southwest corner of 19th Avenue and Thunderbird in front of Macayo’s.” She was obviously upset. Before Sandra could speak or offer any comment, Michelle pressed on.

“Anyway, you said you were going to be with Brent tonight, and I didn’t know if you guys were able to come and give me a jump. I think it’s the battery. I hope. Especially since I need to drive you to work in the morning.”

“Hold on a sec, Michelle. Brent is right here with me.”

She took the phone away from her ear, covered the mic with her hand, and turned to Brent. She outlined the problem, and before he even agreed or offered any comment he had turned and headed toward where Michelle had broken down.

“Tell her we’re on our way and we’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.” His voice was full of reassurance and the general protectiveness that she had come to associate with Brent. “Let her know that I can give you both a ride to work in the morning if needed, so not to worry.”

Sandra relayed everything to Michelle and got information on exactly where she was before hanging up.

After watching the house for the last several hours to make sure no one was home, Diego slipped on latex gloves and jimmied the lock on the ancient back door to the house where Sandra had been receiving her cell phone statements. He had hoped to find her home, preferably alone, but he could wait. And then she would pay for making him chase her all the way to this godforsaken dust bowl.

He slid inside the house and carefully checked every room to make sure no one was here before he went into the two bedrooms and found the one that had to be Sandra’s.

It was spartan, with no keepsakes or pictures of Sandra in the group shots.

He rummaged inside the closet and drawers until he came to the lingerie drawer. Lacy panties and bras were inside, as well as a few silk nighties and a thong or two.

Rage burned through him as he found nothing that he’d bought for her. He had forbidden her to wear any bras or underwear that he hadn’t approved, and now there was no sign of his influence left.

Bitch.

She apparently still didn’t realize that she was his and his alone. Anyone who got in the way would die along with her.

He pulled out his pocketknife and took his anger out on the items, slashing through the cups of the bras as he pictured the knife digging deep into Sandra’s flesh, and shredding the panties as he envisioned long, bleeding stripes crisscrossing Sandra’s fair skin. Rage joined arousal as his vision intensified, but when he ripped the last nightie apart with his bare hands, his vision remained hollow since he had no body to gloat over, no woman to make suffer.

Earlier he had tracked down the dungeon Sandra had placed several calls to according to her cell phone statement. Club Desire was a gothic-looking monstrosity up on the mountain, and he had taken a big chance even driving by it. Since it was in an upscale part of the city, the police presence was a bit thicker than he would have liked. No one here had any idea who he was besides Sandra—even his car was registered to the name he had on his fake driver’s license—but he didn’t want to get caught before he got close enough to make her pay for leaving him. A large event was going on in a few days at Club Desire, and he was determined to find a way inside. He had no doubts that some other Dom was bruising Sandra’s beautiful flesh, and the fact that anyone else was touching her was unacceptable. If time permitted, he would like to cut the balls off the man who had defiled her. But he would have to be careful about it. That added bit of revenge would be sweet, but wasn’t worth his freedom.

Being smart and careful had allowed him to let his passions have free rein to this point. It was no time to change all that now.

He walked across the hall and found the roommate’s underwear. It didn’t give him the same satisfaction he’d felt slashing Sandra’s, but it was necessary.

He searched through all the drawers and the closet, making sure things looked disturbed before he crossed the hall back to Sandra’s room and looked through everything for any other clues to how he might find her and get her alone. If nothing easier presented itself, he would find a way into the Club Desire event in a few days. However, quick and easy would be preferable, and safer.

He had just finished riffling through Sandra’s things, and had walked down the hall toward the back door, when a pair of headlights shone through the flimsy curtains over the front window, nearly blinding him. He cursed and hurried to the window to peek out around the edge of the curtains.

The dark-colored BMW looked out of place in this neighborhood and definitely wasn’t the car that had driven away from the house earlier.

Brent pulled his car in front of the house Sandra shared with Michelle. It was full dark and he looked around for the streetlamps, which should provide at least some light, but both were dark. In an older neighborhood like this it wasn’t uncommon for the bulbs to be burned out and not replaced for months or the wiring to have gone out with little or no maintenance, or for kids to have broken the lights by throwing rocks. He would have to put in a call to the city tomorrow.

The clouds shifted and weak moonlight shone through, making everything look even more surreal in the barely-there light.

A stiff breeze blew a cloud of dust over the car and he hoped it didn’t turn into a full-out haboob—the severe dust storms that Arizona was known for this time of year. Especially since those often came with rain. Trees rustled and the occasional leaf or other debris flew by in swirling eddies, causing skittering noises against the car and making Sandra jump and fidget.

He stared out into the dark gloom for a long moment. “Are you sure you don’t want to come back to Club Desire for the night and I can take you to work in the morning? Michelle might not be home for hours, and I don’t like to think of you here alone.”

After they had gotten Michelle’s car running again, they had followed her to work to make sure she made it, and Brent had called a friend to come out and take a look at the clunker to make sure she would be able to make it home.

Sandra shook her head. “We already drove all the way out here and Michelle will be home later. I don’t want her coming home to an empty house. Besides, she has to be back to work at nine a.m., so I might as well go in with her.”

Brent nodded. “At least let me walk you up to the door and get you settled inside.”

She laid her hand on his arm. “Brent, I appreciate all you’ve done. But I’m a grown woman. You don’t need to bother with all that.”

The slow patter of rain began, sounding loud against the roof of the car.

He laid his hand over hers and met her gaze. “If you’re still sure you want to stay here, then I would feel better if you let me make sure you’re safe.” He smiled, hoping that in the moonlight she could see his sincerity and how much he wanted to take care of her.

After a long pregnant silence, she slowly nodded. “All right. I know Michelle has been a bit stubborn about finding time for the security guys to come out. I really do appreciate you looking out for me. I’m just not used to it.” She raised her chin. “Being totally self-sufficient has become something of a way of life for me. It’s a hard habit to break.”

He reached out to skim his finger over her lips. “You’re a strong woman. You’ve survived and thrived through so much. There’s no shame in letting someone else look out for you now and then. It doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you’re strong enough to accept help.”

She pursed her lips as if trying to decide whether what he had said was true or not.

Finally she nodded. “I know you have to get back to the club, and I need sleep before work tomorrow. You can walk me to the door if it makes you feel better.”

He held back a smile at this small victory, but he still wished she would change her mind and come back to the Club with him. “Let’s go.” He pushed open his car door against the growing wind and stepped out into the murky night.

The steady rain immediately chilled his skin and he hurried his pace.

By the time he had walked around to the front of the car, Sandra was already there, trying to hold her hair out of her face while the wind whipped it and the rain continued to pound.

He took her hand and walked her to the door, scanning the shadows around them on both sides. He had no real reason to think that anything was wrong other than the bad weather in the making, but this place gave him the creeps. The murky dark, rain, and wind didn’t help. It felt like they were walking up to a haunted house that held fear and secrets, and he didn’t like the sensation. But he couldn’t toss Sandra over his shoulder and kidnap her to Club Desire for the night, no matter how tempting that idea sounded.

When they reached the porch, they had some protection from the rain, but the wind still reached them, chilling his skin under his damp clothes. Brent held out his hand and waited until Sandra laid the keys on his open palm.

He slid the key into the lock of the flimsy wooden door and vowed to double down on his effort to charm Michelle into letting the security guys in here to update the place. He turned the key and opened the door.

A loud banging from inside the house made him stiffen and nudge Sandra behind him.

She made a sound that he wasn’t sure was from protest or fear, but she stayed behind him, grasping his waist in a death grip.

When he brought her home the other day he’d noticed the light switches were across the room on the far wall near the kitchen. He thought about putting Sandra inside the locked car to keep her safe, but he knew that was no guarantee of safety, so he opted to keep her with him where he could keep an eye on her. The house was dark, but enough weak moonlight shone through the thin drapes to cast everything in a spooky glow.

He turned to Sandra and laid his finger against her lips with a whispered, “Shhh.”

She nodded, and when he took her hand and led them forward she stayed with him without hesitation or complaint.

He made it across the room and flipped the switch, flooding the room with light and making him blink against the sudden illumination just in time to hear rain pelt down harder against the house and the howling of the wind increase in volume.

The loud banging was coming from inside the kitchen, so he carefully peered around the corner of the archway into the room. The back door seemed to be broken and splintered, hanging from its hinges and banging against the door frame with the growing wind outside.

“Brent,” Sandra whispered urgently. “Look.”

He turned to follow her line of sight and saw clothes, mostly ripped lingerie of various types, strewn down the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

In his peripheral vision he thought he saw something pass across the front window. When he turned his head to look there was nothing, and he couldn’t be sure if he’d seen anything at all other than debris from the building storm.

Sandra still stared down the hallway and he didn’t want to scare her, so he stayed quiet.

But the clothes in the hallway meant someone had been there. That someone could still be in the house.

Lightning flashed outside, strobing through the house, and thunder boomed several seconds later, making the pictures on the walls rattle. As if brought on by the thunder, rain pelted harder against the windows and the wind howled.

Sandra yelped and pressed against him. She was clearly terrified, and he didn’t blame her one bit.

Icy fingers raced down his spine as he considered his options. Even though the weather had turned bad, he thought getting outside and back to the car was the best option. He was confident he could protect them in any hand-to-hand confrontation or even with a knife involved, but against a gun he would be at a huge disadvantage, especially with Sandra’s safety to worry about. No amount of martial arts skills could stop a bullet.

He reached around the archway into the kitchen and grabbed the handset of the phone where it sat in the holder on the wall. Stretching the tangled cord so he had some slack, he brought it to his face and quickly dialed 911 before pressing it to his ear to hear complete silence. No dial tone.

Either the storm had taken down a phone line or someone had cut it. Either way, it wasn’t good.

He looked down at Sandra, who lifted her tearstained face to meet his gaze. Her eyes were wide and glossy, her nostrils flaring, her entire body stiff. He rubbed his hand over her back in soothing circles. He wanted to stop and comfort her, but they didn’t have that luxury.

“Stay strong for a bit longer.” He took his iPhone out of his front pocket and dialed 911, but it only rang and rang. After the tenth ring, he hung up as frustration burned through him. He pulled up the messages app and typed in a one-word shortcut he had preprogrammed a few years ago after he had rescued Dex from an FBI op that had gotten out of control. He hit “send” before slipping his phone back inside his pocket. Dex could track Brent with the “Find My Friends” app on his iPhone and would know what to do when he received that message.

Brent needed to get the house secured for both Michelle and Sandra, and he couldn’t do that alone. Especially with the storm raging, and all the unknowns.

Quickly scanning his options, Brent decided that being out in the open would be better than in here, especially with the entire back of the house a possible hiding place for any number of assailants, and with clear evidence that someone had been inside the house.

Every few minutes, headlights would slash through the thin curtains over the front windows and pan across the room as a car drove by, but the storm continued to rage. Even though he might have seen a shadow at the front window, there was no way to know whether that was anything to worry about. Going out the front was better than the back, where they would have to deal with a backyard area that was cut off from view of the street, and then make their way around the house to the car during the nasty storm.

He leaned down close to Sandra’s ear and realized she was shaking. “It’s going to be all right. Follow my lead, and if anything happens, fight like hell remembering everything Dex taught you earlier, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

Brent took her hand and made his way to the front door. “Let me make sure it’s safe to go out first,” he whispered.

When she nodded, he opened the door slowly and peered outside. He couldn’t see very far in the dark gloom and rain, but then neither could anyone looking for them unless he had night-vision goggles. And if that was the case, they were on an entirely different level of threat. He had to go with the most likely scenario, which was that anyone out there was dealing with the same murky darkness.

He took one step outside, keeping Sandra behind him standing just inside the doorway. If he could get them to the car, he was confident he could keep them safe until help arrived. He took her hand, ready to do a quick walk to the car. The yard had become a mud pit in the last twenty minutes and he didn’t want either of them to trip or twist an ankle.

He looked back at Sandra. “Let’s get to the car and we can sit in there with the doors locked until Dex arrives.”

“I’m ready.” She squared her shoulders and looked out into the pouring rain that was now falling at a 45-degree angle because of the high winds.

Making sure he had a firm grip on her hand, he stepped off the porch and onto the squishy lawn, making sure the footing was firm enough before taking another step.

He stayed aware of Sandra and her progress as well as where they were in relation to the car. Within seconds, Brent was drenched and Sandra looked like a drowned kitten. Their clothes were whipped against their bodies, and they had to push forward against the force of the wind to keep moving.

Barely any moonlight filtered through the storm—just enough so Brent could make out where he had parked the car.

When they made it to the car, he pulled out his keys to deactivate the alarm and unlock the doors, but his fingers were so slick from the rain that he fumbled and dropped the keys onto the sloped curb and they skittered under the car.

He cursed and squeezed Sandra’s hand to alert her he would be moving.

She squeezed back and let go before he knelt on the wet sidewalk, leaning down to look under the car and search for his keys. In the dark, they weren’t readily visible.

He had just closed his hand over them when Sandra screamed, startling him. He snapped his head around toward her and smacked his forehead against the bottom door panel.

Pain shot through his head and his vision swam. He took a deep breath to shake off the sudden disorientation. He pushed to his feet as Sandra’s scream echoed through the night, but farther away this time, off to his right. He frantically scanned for her in the raging storm. As a flash of lightning lit the sky he caught sight of her at the edge of the yard, a man pulling her along by the hair, one rough yank at a time.

She was scratching, biting, and kicking the best she could in the muck and driving rain.

The man pulled his fist back to punch Sandra, and Brent’s rage boiled through him like lava erupting from a volcano.

He ran forward, sliding in the mud, barely managing to stay on his feet. Another flash of lightning gave him a quick view of her. The man thrust his fist forward. Sandra ducked and head-butted him in the groin, his fist coming down on her mid-back.

The man crumpled and went down on his knees, his wet hair plastered against his head. Sandra staggered from the blow to her back, just to the side of her spine. The man’s howl of pain and anger cut through the storm as Sandra fell, but then rolled away and pushed to her feet.

Good girl!

Brent darted forward the last few feet, but the man grabbed Sandra’s leg before he could stop him. Sandra lost her footing on the slick ground and she slipped and fell backward into the mud, her head hitting the ground a second before her shoulders, and then she lay still.

Fear shot through Brent and when he reached them seconds later, the man surprised him by striking out with his fist, which connected with Brent’s side, but glanced off since Brent was in motion.

Brent would have to be careful since he couldn’t see when the man was telegraphing his next move in the dark and driving rain unless a flash of lightning struck at the right time. Before the man could steady his stance, Brent struck forward with the heel of his palm in a firm uppercut, aiming for the man’s chin, to snap his head back. If he could disorient him, he could disable him.

The man could still have a weapon that hadn’t come into play yet, so it was better to err on the side of caution.

At the last second, the man moved, trying to lunge for Sandra, and Brent’s blow hit him squarely on the side of the head just under his right ear.

He stumbled back and howled, obviously enraged.