Obsession (Seven Deadly Sins Book 2)

by Shantel Tessier

  He looks up at me, and I want to look away. I don’t want to have to look into his dark eyes, but they hold me paralyzed. I can’t look away. I expect them to be soft after what he just told me, but they’re not. They are hard like usual, his lips in a thin line and his jaw tight. What happened to this man for him to hate the world so much? “Nothing else of Tiffany’s has been found. Even her car is still missing. It could have been someone who knew her. Or someone she’d just met.” This would be the time to tell him that I have a date tonight, and James is up to something, but I don’t. The fact that he just told me he once lost someone makes me even more hesitant to tell him I’m trying to figure out who her killer is because he will watch me like a hawk. “Either way, they have her information. Her license. Her phone. I have no idea what she had in those things. Do you?”

  I look down at my nails and pretend to pick at them because I can’t answer that. Other than what he said, I have no idea what she kept in there. So I just shake my head.

  “Then it’s settled.” He stands and reaches his hand out to me. “We’re moving you today.”

  “To where?” I ask letting out a sigh. “I have nowhere else to go.” I meant it when I said I had no one else. I also meant it when I said I didn’t make much money at the diner.

  “I told you before. I have a rental house. It’s all yours.”

  He did once tell me that. The night he showed up at the diner. But he also told me that it was mine until we found Tiffany. Now that she’s been found, how long will I be able to stay there?

  “How long will it take you to pack up your stuff?” he asks, looking around at the bare walls. Lack of furniture.

  “I don’t have any furniture to fill another place ...”

  He waves a hand in the air. “My place is fully furnished.”

  “All I have is clothes and some dishes,” I admit with shame. Tiffany and I never were about material things. All we needed was each other. We had survived the streets; where we lived and what we had to put in it just didn’t matter. Wherever we were at the time, we made a home.

  He nods. “I’m sure we can get it all to fit in my Range Rover and your car.”

  ***

  He was wrong. Twenty-five years of my life fit into just his Range Rover. Not one thing needed to go in my car.

  I reach up and wipe the tear from my cheek. My life is out of control. I feel like I don’t even know who I am anymore. This past week has been brutal. I lost my best friend. I met a man who wants to control every little thing I do. Another man who is a cop and working with a known criminal and lets me do anything that I want. And now, I’m moving away from the only place that I’ve called home since I moved to Chicago. But aren’t you tired of running? Aren’t you glad that Brecken is here to help you? Protect you? That’s all I’ve ever wanted. But when you don’t get that, you learn to protect yourself.

  But I realized he was right as I sat on my couch while he loaded my stuff into his Range Rover. If they know where I live, they may come for me. Especially after I meet up with Oscar tonight. And I don’t want them to come to me. I want to go to them. I wanna have the upper hand, and staying here would make me a sitting duck and give them too much of an advantage. Damn, I hate when I’m wrong.

  We’re in a much better neighborhood than where my apartment was, but we’re on the other side of town. About twenty minutes further away from Seven Deadly Sins.

  I follow his Ranger Rover through a neighborhood and past stop signs. He comes to a stop in front of a house and then backs into a driveway. I park on the street as I stare at the house in awe. It’s a cute little one-story house. The outside is a light red brick, and it has a flowerbed that spans across the front windows. The dark brown garage door opens, and then he jumps out of his SUV.

  I undo my seat belt and get out as well. He runs into the house through the garage door, and then seconds later, he comes back out. “There’s an alarm. I had to shut it off.”

  I nod my head. “How long have you had this place?” I ask.

  “Five years.” He opens the back of his Range Rover and starts carrying stuff inside.

  I grab a handful of clothes and follow him. The first room I walk into off the garage is the laundry room. It has a side-by-side washer and dryer. I continue through another door and enter the back of a kitchen. Black stained cabinets and white countertops make it look so upscale. I instantly feel unwelcome. “Brecken?”

  “In here,” he calls out from another room. I make my way through the living room looking at the dark green couches and white coffee table. The light colored carpet under my feet makes me nervous. I can only imagine how dirty it will get.

  I walk down a short hallway that curves to the right and leads to another door. I walk in to see him standing by a big bed that has a white comforter on it and more pillows than any person would know what to do with. “This is your room,” he says before walking into the walk-in closet.

  “Brecken …” I swallow. “This is too much.”

  “Stop,” he says coming back to grab another handful of clothes. I do have enough of that one thing. They’re not name brand or expensive, but I do have more than I probably need. I never really had much growing up. And I moved around a lot. So when I had the chance, I would buy myself clothes. They’re the easiest thing to move when you have to run from your past.

  “I can’t pay you back for this,” I say feeling ashamed.

  “I’m not asking for payment,” he says flatly.

  “But Brecken ...”

  He stops and turns around to face me. His face tight and eyes hard. “I’m just trying to help you,” he snaps, irritated. “I don’t want any money. I don’t even want a thank you. I just want you to take what I’m offering.”

  I wanna yell no! I wanna yell I’ve been on my own for so long. I know what happens when someone helps you. You owe them. And eventually, they come to collect. Before I can say anything, he turns around and walks back into the closet. I let out a sigh and remember what Tiffany used to tell me. Pick your battles. I have a feeling that anyone who goes up against Brecken would lose. And I might as well accept the loss. I have another battle tonight.

  He walks back into the bedroom and then out to the living room. I enter the closet, hang up what clothes I’m holding, and quickly wipe the tear from my eye. “I’m gonna do it for you, Tiffany,” I whisper. I refuse to let her down again.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  BRECKEN

  I walk into my rental house. “Rachel?” I holler. “Rachel, wake up …” I come to a stop as I enter the kitchen. White powder on the countertop gets my attention. I instantly know what it is.

  I walk over to it and stare down at the countertop. Rachel is doing drugs! Case and I have known Rachel for four years now. We saved her. She’s the only woman in this town who knows that Case and I are undercover. She watches us deal drugs on a daily basis but knows that we don’t actually do them.

  I fist my hands down by my side as I look over the quiet house. I bought this house for her. She needed a place to stay, a way to get back on her feet. Case and I may share her, but we don’t love her enough to move her in with one of us.

  I storm off to the master bedroom. I shove the door open to find her lying in bed. Her bright red hair looks like fire against the white pillowcase. I walk over to her and yank the covers back. I grab her shoulder and flip her over. “Rachel?” I growl.

  Her eyes pop open, and she sits up in surprise. “Brecken?” She gasps. “What are you doing here?” She blinks, trying to wake.

  “What the fuck, Rachel? Why are there drugs in the kitchen?” I shout.

  She stares at me wide-eyed, and I know she’s trying to think of an excuse. “I, uh … I …”

  “Don’t fucking lie to me, Rachel!” I yell. “Why the fuck do you have drugs in my house?” I shout.

  She shakes her head quickly. “There’s not …”

  I grab her upper arm and yank her out of the bed. “Brecken!” She cries out as I drag he
r through the living room and into the kitchen.

  “What the fuck is this?” I demand, pointing at it.

  “It’s not mine,” she cries, trying to get her arm out of my grip, but I don’t let go.

  “You’re lying,” I snap.

  “No. No … no.” She starts sobbing. She really should have been an actress. Doesn’t she know that her tears don’t affect me? “I swear …”

  “Okay.” I let go of her, get a paper towel, wet it under the faucet, and then wipe the stuff off the counter. I then take it to the bathroom and flush it. When I come back, she’s crying as she stares at the countertop. “Get dressed. We’re going to see Case,” I order

  I kicked her out of my house that day and paid movers to move her into an apartment. I haven’t been back to this house since. That was about nine months ago. Being in this house makes my skin crawl. It reminds me of her. Rachel. A woman Case and I saved. Well, we thought she needed to be saved. She played us for four long fucking years. The thought still leaves a foul taste in my mouth. She had plenty of people, I found out in the end. I took her in like some stray dog, and like any dog, she bit me.

  But I know Skye is different. I know because I see it in her eyes. She’s not a good faker. A good liar. She wants revenge. Her anger tells too much about her. She has been laid open, and I see what’s on the inside. She’s all alone. She’s lost. She reminds me more of Nicole than of Rachel, and I want to help her. I want to give her something that I never felt I had.

  Even Case couldn’t have filled the hole that I had after Nicole was taken. He was my best friend before I lost Nicole, and he stayed my best friend after she was gone. But nothing, and I mean nothing, can fill a hole when you lose someone. You just go through the motions. You survive day by day. I can’t fix what she is going through right now. I can’t fill a void. But I can help her. I can make her feel safe, and I can let her know she’s not alone in this world. I want to save her. I once wanted to save myself. But there was nothing left worth saving.

  This is my chance to right all the wrong that I do. This is a second chance for her. And no one is going to give it to her but me. Maybe I’m being selfish. Maybe I’m being overprotective. But what else do I do? You expect me to walk away? To leave her to the wolves? I am the fucking pack leader. And I will steer them clear of her.

  “That’s it,” I say placing the last of her clothes in the closet. I walk out to find her standing awkwardly by the bed. She had changed into a pair of denim shorts that are shorter than the cotton shorts she was wearing last night. The pockets are longer than the shorts and peeking out from underneath them. She has a white tank top on with red lips on it. She looks stunning, even with no makeup and her hair in a ponytail. She just has this look about her. Her hair is up in a ponytail that shows off her small face. Her dark green eyes are big and her lips pouty. And like any other man, my thoughts go to her undressing. I imagine her undoing her shorts and letting them fall to the floor. I imagine walking over to her, placing my hands on her shirt, and pulling it up over her head. I imagine taking advantage of her hair being up and forcing her to her knees as she sucks my cock. She licks her lips as I feel my jeans tighten, and I let out a long breath. I need to calm down. That is not why she is here. Although if she gave me the smallest hint that she wanted me, I wouldn’t stop her.

  “I am thankful,” she says quietly.

  I don’t want her thanks. I want her on that bed naked. My hands in her hair and her back arched while she cries my name. Those dark green eyes lost in mine… I shake my head; that’s not why we are here. I want her safe. I nod my head, not really knowing what to say. You’re welcome seems so stupid when I didn’t give her a choice in the matter. And I wanna fuck you would be too forward.

  “Let me show you around,” I say walking out of the bedroom. I need to be away from the bed that keeps calling to me.

  There’s not really much to show. It’s only a two-bedroom house with a one and a half bath. She can stand in the living room and practically see every room from there. But I need to show her how to run the alarm and give her the spare set of keys.

  “If you need anything, here is my card.” I set it on the counter in the kitchen. “The club and my cell are both on there.” I point them both out to her, and she nods her head.

  I walk into the living room and turn on the flat-screen TV that sits on the stand. “You have cable TV,” I tell her. She doesn’t seem impressed, but I’m not sure anything can impress this woman. I can tell she doesn’t wanna be here and that she hates her current situation. But overall, I’d say she is gonna be okay. She has me, after all.

  I show her how to use it as if she’s never had it before. I’m not sure she has. She may be rolling her eyes at me or praying for me to leave, but I don’t want to. “I don’t have everything you need,” I say, placing the remote down on the couch. “I do have some laundry detergent above the washer and dryer. And some bottles of water out in the garage. I just need to put them in the fridge. There’s not much food here at the moment,” I say, kicking myself. I should have thought of that before I offered her the place. “But if you want, you can order some pizza tonight.” There’s a store just down the road, but I’m not sure how much money she has. She wasn’t prepared to have to stock a full kitchen.

  “Brecken ...” She places her hand on my upper arm, and my body stills. Her small hand is so warm. So tender. “I know how to take care of myself,” she says softly. Her dark green eyes look up at mine, and I wonder just how long she has been taking care of herself. How long has she had Tiffany to help her? “Thanks. But I assure you I can survive.”

  I flinch at her choice of words. Survive? Does she understand what it means to survive? I don’t know what she has been through, but things are going to be different for her now. She had a best friend to see her through anything. Now, she only has herself. She’ll learn real quick that it takes more than her to get through life. A life full of grieving.

  I nod. “There are a couple more boxes in the back of my car.” She frowns. She thinks I brought all of her stuff in. I did. “It’s Tiffany’s stuff,” I say, and her face falls. “I’ll place them in the corner of the garage.”

  “Thanks,” she says, turning around and walking off to her room.

  SKYE

  Brecken stayed longer than I thought he would. It was as if he didn’t wanna leave. I could feel it in the way he showed me how to do day-to-day things. He made sure I knew where every light switch was. And how to run the washer and dryer then the dishwasher. I wanted to tell him that I wasn’t raised in a box, but that wouldn’t be far from the truth. He was just trying to help. I found myself liking him here with me. I liked the way his body moved as he walked in front of me and the way his eyes looked at me as if he wanted to say something but held it in. I liked the way my skin broke out in goose bumps when he spoke. My body physically shook when we were standing in the bedroom. I noticed the way he looked at my legs and my chest as if he wanted me. I hate to admit that the thought of having him crossed my mind too. But then I thought of Tiffany and the position I have found myself in and snapped out of it.

  As soon as he left, I went into the bathroom and took the hottest and longest bubble bath of my life. My water ran cold, and my bubbles disappeared, but it was totally worth it. I’ve never really had the luxury of stretching out in a bathtub. I was able to relax, but Brecken kept coming to mind. He was consuming me as I soaped up my body. I imagined him in the tub with me. His hard body soaked and those hard brown eyes watching me as I washed. I wonder what he’s like. How he prefers his women. I can’t see him attracted to a woman like me. I see him with a tall, beautiful blonde. A blonde who looks like Tiffany.

  I sigh as I sink further into the bathtub. Why do I keep getting off track? I should only be thinking about Tiffany. The words of what Brecken had said to me the night before in my apartment make my chest tighten. About how much she suffered. About how much I want to make those who hurt her suffer too. I know what suff
ering looks like. I know what suffering sounds like. I’ve heard the cries of others as they beg for their lives. And I’ve seen the look in those who have done the suffering while showing no remorse. It’s terrifying. I can see Brecken being that way, yet it doesn’t scare me.

  I’m not afraid to go to prison. If given the chance, I would kill whoever hurt her in a second. I just wish that when that happens, I’ll be able to take my time. Not rush it. Make them bleed. Make them beg. Make them wish they had never laid their hands on her.

  I finish my bath and then get out. Thirty minutes later, I set the hair dryer on the countertop in the bathroom. I’m getting ready for my unofficial date with Oscar tonight. I haven’t heard anything from him, but I don’t need him to text me to know that he will show up. I made it very clear that I was interested in him. Men are like clockwork when it comes to sex. Dangle that carrot and they’ll take a bite.

  I put a little more makeup on than I would normally wear on any given night, and I put on a tight little white dress that I know will stand out in a club full of neon lights. I just gotta steer clear of Brecken. I know he’ll be there, but I’m just hoping he stays busy and doesn’t notice me.

  ***

  I’m shaking. My entire body is shaking as I enter Seven Deadly Sins. Miller checked my ID, and I expected him to say something, but he didn’t. I’ve only met him a few times, and it was when Tiffany and I used to come here. So maybe he doesn’t remember me.

  I walk in and try not to trip over my high heels as the lights blind me and the music pounds in my head. I take a deep breath trying to calm my racing heart and jittery nerves. Oscar will know something is off if I’m nervous.

  I go up to the bar and order a drink. I tell the bartender with spiky blond hair that I want something fruity, and then seconds later, he hands me something light pink that tastes like lemonade. But I know it’s not gonna be enough. I need something more to pull this off. I need something more in order to leave with this man. I don’t want the sluggish feeling of being drunk, but I need to be relaxed.