Obsessed Read online

  The water’s spray ceased to be heard.

  “What? I’m in the shower.”

  “I’m going out for a few minutes to get us some food and coffee. The top of the stairs will be locked. I won’t be long.”

  “Okay.”

  Adjusting myself as I walked away was easier than getting the thought of her naked body out of my head.

  “Kader?”

  I spun around. Laurel’s face peered my way, her blue eyes wide and her dark hair wet and dripping. The rest of her was hidden behind the door. “Yes?”

  “Be careful.”

  Her warning returned the uncharacteristic upturn to my lips. “Don’t try to go upstairs.”

  She shook her head. More droplets of water dotted the concrete floor near the partially open door. “Not without you.” Her chin tilted upward. “I’m not too proud to admit that upstairs scares me.”

  Damn, I needed to walk away, but for some reason my boots were walking back to her. Stopping at the doorway, I could see a bit more of her, yet the door still had her covered from the middle of her breasts down. I ran the coarse tip of a finger over her cheek, and as I did, the blue of her eyes disappeared behind lowering lids. “Upstairs is a pigsty but it shouldn’t scare you. You should be scared of something or someone else.”

  “I’m not afraid of you.”

  I moved my hand away from her soft, warm skin and gripped the doorjamb. I was too fucking close to pushing the door away and seeing her in the light. I shook my head. “If you could read my thoughts, you would be terrified. Even without them and with what you know about me, you should be.”

  Her delicate shoulder shrugged as pink filled her cheeks. “I’m not. Please come back.”

  “That’s one thing you don’t have to worry about. The devil himself couldn’t keep me away from you.”

  Laurel’s cheeks rose higher as she began to close the door.

  I stepped forward, my boot blocking the closure.

  Her smile grew. “Hurry, I think we missed dinner last night. What time is it?”

  “Around ten-thirty.” I ran my finger again over her soft cheek and traced down her neck to her collarbone. Using all the self-control I could muster, I pulled my hand away and stepped back. “I’ll hurry because if I don’t leave right now, I foresee another missed meal.”

  Her eyes shone as she closed the door. A few moments later, the water again began to spray against the plastic stall.

  Making my way upstairs, I noticed another oddity.

  My fucking cheeks were up—risen in an uncustomary way.

  It was a full-blown smile.

  I didn’t smile.

  My body liked this rare feeling. My dick was ready for me to turn around. It was my mind that said this assignment needed to end.

  The question was how would it end?

  As I locked the door from the outside, setting the padlock, I looked around at the filth. There was no question it was disgusting. I stepped over debris as I made my way to the garage and truck. As bad as it was on this level, it wasn’t scary. I’d secured the boards over the windows and doors. No one was breaking in without making one hell of a racket.

  Me on the other hand—I was the fucking boogeyman. Laurel Carlson should be afraid of me.

  Why wasn’t she?

  As I drove, my thoughts centered on the assignment I’d taken—the job, not the woman.

  I was in possession of both of the flash drives. Russell Cartwright was dead, and his body would never be found. Laurel could be the same. Not literally but presumed dead, as in missing.

  She didn’t realize it yet, but staying hidden was going to happen. She didn’t have a choice.

  Until I learned the identity of the person who hired me, she wouldn’t be safe.

  At a nearby drive-thru I gave the speaker my order. I’d secured my hair with a rubber band. I only used cash, small denominations, nothing to stand out. With the sunglasses and black jacket I was wearing, my image accomplished my goal of being nondescript—nothing more than a passing thought, a ghost—the boogeyman.

  Memories of me would be forgotten as soon as I drove away, not because I could control what other people thought, but because forgetting me was what other people wanted to do. Their rational minds didn’t want to recall what made them feel uncomfortable. It was easier to dismiss it and move on.

  I made my decision.

  I wasn’t going to keep her—I couldn’t—but I sure as hell wasn’t giving her back to have someone else do the job. No, I wouldn’t admit to my change in plans, not yet. I’d get her out of that hellhole and out of this city, and then I’d message my employer and say the job was complete. No details needed until I learned more about who was on the other end of the agreement and who was willing to pay big bucks for the formula and compound.

  The decision gave me purpose as I locked the door at the top of the stairs from the inside. Entering the basement, I stopped in my tracks. Laurel was sitting at the computers, her dark, damp hair combed out, hanging over her shoulders in waves that cascaded down her back. I filled that chair, but not her. Her petite frame, wearing a t-shirt and skin-tight, soft pants, took hardly any space as she sat with one leg tucked beneath her and her arms wrapped around her other knee in front of her chest.

  My first reaction was to ask her what the hell she was doing.

  Before the words left my lips, I found myself enthralled with the vision of her and the reality that she was here as she’d promised. I also recalled asking for her help, making her sit at that same chair and read the email. Closing the door with my foot, I said, “Tell me you didn’t touch anything.”

  Laurel spun my way as if she hadn’t heard me enter, not until I spoke. Her blue eyes were glassy and wide and she hugged her knee closer.

  “What does this mean?” she asked.

  “What?”

  She pointed to the screen as I laid the bag filled with food and cups on the table. Throwing my coat onto the sofa, step by step I made my way back to what she was seeing. When I turned back to her, she was no longer looking at the computer screens but at me—no, specifically at my exposed forearms.

  “Shit,” I grunted as I pushed down the sleeves to my wrists. “Forget you saw that.”

  Laurel stood, coming closer with her blue gaze fixed on me. Looking directly at me, our eyes locked. “Kader, they’re so beautiful. Why won’t you let me see them?”

  “They’re not beautiful.”

  She reached for my hand and for my sleeve.

  “No, Laurel. Nonnegotiable.”

  Laurel

  The display of colors on Kader’s arms caused me to rise from the chair, removing me from what I’d seen on the screens.

  “No, Laurel.” His voice grew gruff. “Nonnegotiable.” He pushed my hand away.

  While he tugged harder on the cuff of his sleeve, I pulled my hand back to my chest as I’d done the first time he told me not to touch him. There was something in his expression that pained me, a sadness I hadn’t seen in him before.

  “Kader.”

  He shook his head, his jaw set as the cords of his neck grew taut.

  “I-I really didn’t see much, but what I did see was beautiful.”

  The lighting wasn’t great in the basement, and yet what I’d seen appeared to be a kaleidoscope of blues, teals, greens, and purples—vivid intertwining colors, bold and animated. From a distance, the markings even seemed to hold depth as if I would be able to feel them as well as see them. Although it had only been a fraction of a second before he’d covered them, I knew in that short time that he was wrong. His tattoos were beautiful.

  Would they also reveal what he wouldn’t say?

  Does Kader have secrets hidden in his ink?

  I swallowed as our gazes stayed locked.

  “Forget what you saw.” His tone didn’t suggest I do what he said. It demanded.

  “Why? The colors were...are so bold. I want to see them.”

  He turned away with a scoff and began walking
toward the table.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You keep asking for things you shouldn’t.”

  “If that comment was about last night, I have no regrets.”

  He spun back toward me. “You mentioned the tats, well sort of. You said something after you took the sleeping pill. You were delirious, not knowing what you were saying then, and you don’t know now.” He began removing food from the paper bag. “I’m getting sick of shitty fast food. We won’t have to put up with it for much longer.”

  I came up to the table, my stomach more demanding of food than I was about arguing about Kader’s tattoos. That didn’t mean I was giving up. Sitting, I looked up at him. “Before a few minutes ago, I’d only seen the edges. The first time was on your wrist the night of the gathering when you raised your hand to quiet the crowd. The second was a little bit on your upper chest. You had left buttons undone when I’d first woken up.” When he didn’t respond, I went on, “Most people are proud of tattoos. I mean, they get them for a reason.”

  Sitting, Kader shook his head as loose strands of hair framed his face. His green gaze stayed fixed on me as he unwrapped and lifted his breakfast sandwich. “Drop it.” His chest expanded with a deep breath. Without taking a bite, he tossed the sandwich back to the paper. “Un-fucking-believable.”

  “Is that why it’s so dark in the bedroom.”

  He stood and paced back and forth. “Cartwright is dead. Someone put out a contract on you and your work.” He stopped and gripped the back of the chair. “Don’t you think there are more fucking important topics than my ink?”

  I unwrapped the breakfast sandwich he’d gotten for me. While I hadn’t eaten one of these in years—I couldn’t recall when the last time was—damn, it smelled fantastic.

  “Tell me what had you upset.” He tilted his head toward the plastic wall.

  I brought the sandwich to my lips and hesitated. “Eric is back at the office and so is Stephanie.”

  Kader nodded as he spun the chair and straddled the back.

  “You knew that?”

  “Not until this morning.” He took a bite of his sandwich. “They were the ones that set off the alarm that woke us.”

  “What else did you see?” I asked between bites.

  “More heard than saw. There was a conversation between Olsen and someone on the phone. Neither you nor Cartwright has been seen since Monday night at the office. From what I heard, Olsen was trying to convince the other person that the two of you wouldn’t abandon the research or abscond with it.”

  “So they don’t know what happened to Russ?” The question added a bitter taste to my breakfast.

  Kader shook his head. “No one will know for sure—ever.”

  “Of course, they will. He’s...” I looked down, not allowing myself to finish the sentence, not allowing myself to say the word.

  “Laurel, only you and I and the person who killed him know about his fate. If anyone in that facility knows that he’s dead, that individual either killed him or had him killed.”

  After a sip of my coffee, I stood. My sock-covered feet paced the cement. “How can you discuss this so casually?”

  When I turned, Kader was right in front of me, bringing my walk to a halt. He reached for my chin and brought my gaze from his chest to his vibrant green eyes.

  “I’ve been thinking about it. Their current assumption is your best option.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Someone thinks that the two of you took off. I would assume they wouldn’t want to publicize that theory without evidence. Their diversion will give us time to get out of here.”

  “Out of here?” The edge of panic infiltrated my tone.

  “Yes, out of here. This basement is secure, but we can’t stay here indefinitely. Someone paid me to kill you. That someone is still out there. My computer equipment is far better at my house. I live in the middle of nowhere. No one will see you there. You can go outside and not be locked away underground.”

  My nose and eyes scrunched as I listened. “I can go outside?” My hands, now balled into fists, hit my hips as I took a step away from his touch. “Am I a damn puppy? I have my life’s work on the line. Going outside to play isn’t my concern.”

  Kader let out a long breath and smoothed his palm over his hair as he turned a complete circle. The bicep beneath his t-shirt flexed. “Laurel.” His tone had hardened. “Just so we’re clear, what I said about leaving wasn’t the opening of a discussion nor was it a request for your input. You are going with me. We’re getting the hell out of here before it’s too late.” He came closer and reached for my shoulders, again forcing me to raise my chin to maintain eye contact. “Russell’s body will not be found or identified. It’s too bad because without that evidence his killer will also never be caught. And there’s a chance, if I don’t call my job complete, that same person will come after you.” Letting go of my shoulders, he continued, “If it was a professional hit on Cartwright, they wouldn’t have left him at your house unless...”

  “Unless what?”

  His lips came together. “Unless you were being set up.”

  My forehead fell to his chest as I closed my eyes. The thumping of his heart reassured me as his hands encircled my waist, pulling me toward him.

  His deep voice filled the space. “I have issues with a professional hit. Someone like me doesn’t get invited into my target’s girlfriend’s home.”

  “I wasn’t his girl...” I didn’t finish.

  “That means that Cartwright probably knew the person with him. He probably trusted him or her. I can do more work on recognition at my house.”

  Staying in Kader’s embrace, I pushed against his chest, unable to stop listening but wishing I wasn’t hearing. My temples throbbed in rhythm with his heart.

  “If the people at the university are certain that the two of you are on the run,” he went on, “they’re going to try to find you. Hell, Sinclair Pharmaceuticals may try to find you. I’ll run some programs when we’re home to pull up the phone records and find out who Olsen was speaking to. The person who hired me or the person who killed Cartwright may try to find you. There are a million possible scenarios and all of them mean that our time is running out.

  “As it is now, we can’t go to the airport. I could charter a private jet, but that would require false identities, identifications, and a shit ton of money transfers. The airports, even private ones, have cameras. It’s more difficult to go unnoticed when you drop $8,000 an hour for a flight. The convenience isn’t worth the risk. The best way to get out of this city is the same way we’ve been in it—hiding in plain sight.”

  A new thought came to mind as my eyes opened. “I have to tell my parents I’m safe.”

  His head moved from side to side. “Their concern has to be real.”

  I took a step back. “No, they’re old. I mean, not like ancient. My father is sixty-eight and my mother sixty-seven. I can’t make them go through the worry. What if people question them?”

  “Then they will respond honestly. It’s the best answer for their safety. One hundred different scenarios could include the thought that they are helping you hide.”

  My stomach knotted at the thought of anyone accusing my parents. I looked up at Kader. There were small lines next to his eyes and his brow was furrowed. “Can we do anything to keep them safe?” I asked.

  “Letting them respond honestly is the best thing for us to do and for them.”

  It was my turn to spin as I slapped my thighs. “I hate this. Putting them through that will break them.”

  “Identifying their daughter in a morgue wouldn’t be easier.”

  My spin came to a halt as I stared incredulously at Kader. “What if I say no?”

  “Same option as when you asked that question in your bedroom.”

  Tranquilizer.

  “What about all this?” I gestured around.

  “Most of it we leave. It’s trash. The computers I’ll destroy. The
feeds from the cameras will continue to go to a well-secured cloud. I can access it all from the ranch.”

  “The ranch? Where is this ranch with an outside playground?”

  Kader scoffed. “You know that you can be a real pain in the ass?”

  I tilted my head.

  It takes one to know one.

  I didn’t say that though my expression may have conveyed the message.

  He let out a long breath. “I’m not telling you where we’re going.”

  What the hell?

  “You expect me to agree to driving in that old heap of a truck to an undetermined destination that could take hours to get to?”

  “The destination is determined. The length of the drive is more like a day. Two if we stop.”

  “I am not riding on those back seats.”

  “I have a plan.”

  Laurel

  I opened my eyes as the truck’s tires bounced along the uneven packed-dirt road. Classic rock music played within the cab, a background to the rocks and ice pelting the undercarriage. My mind was fuzzy and my body ached, both the result of over twenty-four hours in the front seat of Kader’s truck. Granted, it wasn’t the most comfortable or efficient means of transportation, but it was effective. It was his plan—disappear in plain sight. That meant covering my head with the hood of his giant sweatshirt whenever we stopped or went through tolls.

  Stretching my sore muscles, I peered out to the scenery. At some point while I slept we’d exited the nearly deserted highways and made our way onto more rural roads. Using the word road to describe the surface upon which Kader was driving was a stretch. The truck’s shocks, as well as the springs beneath the vinyl bench, groaned as we moved forward, our bodies—despite the seat belts—tossed to-and-fro.

  We may have left Indianapolis in the spring, but we’d arrived to Montana—yes, I could read signs—back in winter. The mountains visible in the distance were topped with snow-covered peaks and the ground for as far as I could see into the setting sun was mostly white with a few scattered patches of green grass. The sky above us went on forever with darkening clouds accumulating over the mountains.