Page 3 of One Quick Obsession

And I tried not to let the memories slam into me. Because this was all too familiar, and I had failed the first time.

I would kill him. I didn’t tell her that, I just let her break down in my arms. I vowed to myself right then and there, I would kill him.

Just like before.

Chapter Two

Hudson

1 Year Later

Fire licked up the side of the building, radiating heat through the wood and stone, scorching my skin. I winced, taking a step back, and bumped into Fox.

“Duck and cover!” Hernandez shouted. I hit the deck, covering my head as debris flew over our bodies and the sound of screaming echoed throughout the now shattered room.

Then we were on our feet, crouched down, moving swiftly, and yet not swiftly enough.

“Cage! Behind you!”

I turned, but not quick enough. Light flashed in my eyes, and sound followed—a cacophony of shouts, screams, and silence.

Then I blinked and looked down at the blood coating my hands, the sickly sweet smell muted for some reason. Only the blood wasn’t merely my own.

The bodies piled at my feet pressed against my shins, the blood from my fingertips dripping on their torn flesh. Faces of people I knew—who I called friends—stared up at me with empty eyes and gaping mouths.

Fox. Hernandez. Smith. Williams. Martin. Robinson. Lewis. King. Scott.

So many and yet blood trickled down my chest, coating my skin.

And then it was her. Her face.

She wasn’t supposed to be here. She was all the way back over in the States. She was supposed to be safe. Not with me. But safe.

Michelle’s eyes changed once again, and Scarlett blinked at me, her mouth barely moving as she whispered a single word.

“Help.”

I opened my eyes and realized that my dreams had taken a turn. I sat up, chest heaving, and sweat coating my body. The sheet pooled around my waist, and I ran my hand over my face and through my beard, pissed off.

I didn’t have nightmares every night. I honestly had come back from my tours overseas relatively unscathed. I might have earned a purple heart but so did many of my friends. It was the ones who hadn’t come back that had done far more than me.

But it wasn’t as if I thought about that every day. It had been years since I’d returned home. Years since my life had changed, and I joined the family instead.

I hated the fact that even after all these years, I couldn’t get the sight of their blood on my hands out of my dreams. And real life had been far worse than my dreams—though I hadn’t held each of their lifeless bodies in my hands. I had been sent home before a few of them had died.

And wasn’t that a pleasant thought to think of in the morning.

My alarm went off at that moment and I cursed. I hated waking up right before my alarm. Though it wasn’t as if I was going to go back to bed anytime soon. Not when Michelle and Scarlett once again decided to pop into my dreams.

With a grunt, I slid out of bed and padded my way to my bathroom.

I stared into the mirror, annoyed that no matter what I did, getting a full night’s sleep wasn’t going to work. With a sigh, I brushed my teeth, knowing that today was going to be a long fucking day. Thankfully I didn’t have to go to the resort. I shuddered, remembering the last time I had truly been there.

Scarlett had shoved me out of that room and refused to tell me a damn thing about why she carried those bruises. That it wasn’t my problem, and I wasn’t going to be her protector. I spit into the sink, before washing my face and turning on the shower. Of course it wasn’t my problem. I’d wanted to fix it.

Scarlett had wanted nothing to do with me. Which was fine. It wasn’t as if we liked each other. We yelled at each other more often than not. She was just so perfect. She snapped at me with her orders, as if I were some flunky who was supposed to do what she said. She always thought she knew better and ignored anything I had to say. Except of course when she wanted to counter it. That was just Scarlett for you, and I couldn’t stand it.

Why she couldn’t be as nice as her twin, I’d never know. Because Luna might not be soft-spoken or unopinionated—neither of which were things that I needed or cared about—but she didn’t butt her way into everything that you were doing at all times.