Right Through Me (The Obsidian Files #1) Read Online Free
Author: Shannon McKenna
Tags: Suspense, Contemporary Romance, Paranormal Suspense, The Obsidian Files Book 1
girl could knock him right off his rails and get him running AVP hot, right out of fucking nowhere . . . that was bad.
He was still deep in the shit. Deeper than he’d thought. He groped for the shades in his jacket pocket. Put them on. The extra light shield helped a little.
He should have talked to Simone about this, but what could he say? He couldn’t tell her the truth about Midlands and what happened there. He couldn’t come clean about his modifications.
His phone buzzed in his pocket as he waited for the elevator. He pulled it out. An encrypted message on his private line.
Heads up. yr future father-in-law Batello has dealings with Mayburg Group, a subsidiary of Obsidian. Don’t sign. Asa
The text message was followed by a series of links.
He realized some time later that he was blocking the entrance to the elevator. People were sidling awkwardly around him, shooting him nervous glances. They sensed the buzzing bad energy he was giving off. There was once again a personalized kill plan glowing on his inner screen for every single person in his line of vision.
Batello? How could Noah and his team have missed a connection between Batello and Obsidian, with all their due diligence? And how the fuck did his brother Asa know about it?
How did Asa know anything about them at all, after thirteen years without contact?
His mind reeled. His focus was blasted all to shit. Asa?
As soon as he could move at all, he followed the first directive in his own damage control checklist. Isolate yourself ASAP.
Stairwell. He went for it.
Twenty-four flights of stairs at a dead sprint would drain off some excess energy.
So would randomly killing someone. Whatever happened first.
* * *
It was hard to sit still. The bus lumbered through the University District. Not her first choice for a getaway vehicle, but it had been stopped near the taxi when Caro jumped out. She perched on the plastic seat, vibrating with urgency. She wanted to jump up, run, yell, do something, anything. Whenever she closed her eyes, she saw Noah Gallagher staring after her cab as he sprinted down the middle of a busy street, as if the honking cars swerving around him were not even a relevant consideration.
She almost wished he’d caught up with her. So strange and sexy, to be seen like that. So deeply. Delicious and toe-curling, that a man like him wanted her attention so much he’d run out into traffic to try and catch her.
It was more fun to think about her fantasy lover than to dwell on the terrifying real issues of her life. But please. She had to stay focused. A psycho killer was after her ass. No one was going to save that ass but her. She was almost certainly being followed, which meant Mark probably knew where she was. She couldn’t swoon off into romantic daydreams. Much less full-on sexual fantasies.
The suspicion that she was being tailed began yesterday after she’d seen Bea. By now it was as big and heavy as a rock in her throat. There was no one in the bus to inspire mortal dread, just a Goth girl rocking out to headphones and an old lady opposite her. A plaid purse on her lap held a yappy little dog. The dog stuck its head out and eyed Caro balefully, as if it knew something that Caro didn’t.
She’d seen the guy twice yesterday. Big, tall. Black ponytail, hawk nose, strolling casually about a block or so behind her. He hadn’t looked directly at her, but that meant nothing. The competent ones never seemed to be looking.
Then she’d spotted him again at the Stray Cat after that stupid bachelor party gig. That clinched it. More than once was once too often. He’d filmed her on his phone. There were no coincidences. If something seemed sinister, it was sinister. Count on it.
She craned her neck until it ached, squinting through the rainspotted window at headlights and taillights. She didn’t dare draw any more unhealthy attention to Bea, who had problems of her own. It was wrong to pull anyone into the toxic
He was still deep in the shit. Deeper than he’d thought. He groped for the shades in his jacket pocket. Put them on. The extra light shield helped a little.
He should have talked to Simone about this, but what could he say? He couldn’t tell her the truth about Midlands and what happened there. He couldn’t come clean about his modifications.
His phone buzzed in his pocket as he waited for the elevator. He pulled it out. An encrypted message on his private line.
Heads up. yr future father-in-law Batello has dealings with Mayburg Group, a subsidiary of Obsidian. Don’t sign. Asa
The text message was followed by a series of links.
He realized some time later that he was blocking the entrance to the elevator. People were sidling awkwardly around him, shooting him nervous glances. They sensed the buzzing bad energy he was giving off. There was once again a personalized kill plan glowing on his inner screen for every single person in his line of vision.
Batello? How could Noah and his team have missed a connection between Batello and Obsidian, with all their due diligence? And how the fuck did his brother Asa know about it?
How did Asa know anything about them at all, after thirteen years without contact?
His mind reeled. His focus was blasted all to shit. Asa?
As soon as he could move at all, he followed the first directive in his own damage control checklist. Isolate yourself ASAP.
Stairwell. He went for it.
Twenty-four flights of stairs at a dead sprint would drain off some excess energy.
So would randomly killing someone. Whatever happened first.
* * *
It was hard to sit still. The bus lumbered through the University District. Not her first choice for a getaway vehicle, but it had been stopped near the taxi when Caro jumped out. She perched on the plastic seat, vibrating with urgency. She wanted to jump up, run, yell, do something, anything. Whenever she closed her eyes, she saw Noah Gallagher staring after her cab as he sprinted down the middle of a busy street, as if the honking cars swerving around him were not even a relevant consideration.
She almost wished he’d caught up with her. So strange and sexy, to be seen like that. So deeply. Delicious and toe-curling, that a man like him wanted her attention so much he’d run out into traffic to try and catch her.
It was more fun to think about her fantasy lover than to dwell on the terrifying real issues of her life. But please. She had to stay focused. A psycho killer was after her ass. No one was going to save that ass but her. She was almost certainly being followed, which meant Mark probably knew where she was. She couldn’t swoon off into romantic daydreams. Much less full-on sexual fantasies.
The suspicion that she was being tailed began yesterday after she’d seen Bea. By now it was as big and heavy as a rock in her throat. There was no one in the bus to inspire mortal dread, just a Goth girl rocking out to headphones and an old lady opposite her. A plaid purse on her lap held a yappy little dog. The dog stuck its head out and eyed Caro balefully, as if it knew something that Caro didn’t.
She’d seen the guy twice yesterday. Big, tall. Black ponytail, hawk nose, strolling casually about a block or so behind her. He hadn’t looked directly at her, but that meant nothing. The competent ones never seemed to be looking.
Then she’d spotted him again at the Stray Cat after that stupid bachelor party gig. That clinched it. More than once was once too often. He’d filmed her on his phone. There were no coincidences. If something seemed sinister, it was sinister. Count on it.
She craned her neck until it ached, squinting through the rainspotted window at headlights and taillights. She didn’t dare draw any more unhealthy attention to Bea, who had problems of her own. It was wrong to pull anyone into the toxic
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