Her Obsession (by Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 114

Fight.

Conner

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The forest is dead quiet, the kind of silence that makes your teeth ache. Every breath feels too loud, every heartbeat like it might give us away. My men are spread out through the trees, eyes sharp, rifles steady, each one waiting for my word. The moon is a thin knife above us, cutting through the fog that clings low to the ground. Through the scope, I can see the clearing, the bunker door, the rusted trucks, and the twisted tree. Yakov’s men move like clockwork, disciplined, efficient bastards. Two of them are hauling rope, looping it over the thick branch, tying knots like they’ve done this before. The boxes go beneath, square and solid. My stomach knots when I realise what they’re for.

“Jesus,” Liam mutters through the comm, voice low. “Those are gallows.”

I say nothing. Just watch. Wait.

Ari’s crouched beside me, eyes on the tablet that’s streaming the last of Nico’s audio feed. Her finger hovers over the screen, tracking movements inside. “Two guards at the main entrance, four on the perimeter. No drones overhead yet,” she murmurs. “But there will be. He’s making a show of this.”

I grind my teeth, watching Yakov’s men fan out around the tree. They’re laughing. Bastards are laughing. The sound carries faintly on the wind, and it makes the rage in my chest burn white–hot.

Then the bunker doors open. My pulse spikes. One by one, figures step out. The guards, then a cluster of soldiers, and finally him. Yakov walks like a man stepping onto his own stage, hands clasped behind his back, coat long enough to brush the dirt. Beside him…I exhale hard through my nose. “There.”

Ari follows my gaze, then swears under her breath.

Naomi’s first, dragged forward, arms bound tight behind her. She’s bloodied but still standing tall. Then Sage, my ghost is pushed hard enough to stumble, her hair hanging loose, face shadowed, but she’s alive. I can see the glint of defiance even from here. And Nico. The kid’s standing near Yakov, stiff and pale, pretending to be one of them. My chest twists, seeing him there, but I know what Sage would’ve told him to play the part and stay alive.

Liam’s voice crackles in my ear. “We’ve got eyes. Confirming all three. Orders, boss?”

I swallow hard, my hand flexing over the trigger. The crosshairs drift from Yakov’s chest to his head, to Sage, to Naomi. One word and we end it. But not yet. Not until Sage gives me the signal.

“Hold position,” I say, voice low and cold. “No movement. Not until she makes the call.”

Ari looks at me, eyes wide. “Conner, they’re setting them up to hang.”

“I know,” I growl, eyes locked on the clearing as Yakov gestures to the nooses, lips moving, smile sharp and cruel. “And when she moves, we burn this place to the fucking ground.”

Every man in the trees tightens their grip. The air hums with tension. And in the distance, under the moonlight, I watch as they push my girl toward the rope.

The world narrows down to rope and wood. Everything else peels away, the wind, the creak of the tree, the distant shuffle of boots, until all I can hear is the soft scuff of her boot as she climbs onto the box. She moves with that same stubborn quiet she’s always had, jaw set, eyes straight ahead. The noose loops over her head like a shadow waiting; they cinch it slowly, methodically, showing off the power in every knot. Yakov watches like it’s theatre, face open–mouthed in satisfaction, while the men around him laugh too softly for the moment.

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12:03 Tue, Oct 21

Fight.

Rage rips through me so hot it hurts. I can feel it in my throat, a raw animal sound trying to get out.

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Liam’s whisper snaps into a roar beside me before I can stop it. “Fuck this, that’s my fucking girl.” His hands are white on the stock of his rifle; I can see the tremor in his jaw. He’s two breaths from punching a hole through the world.

I put a hand on his shoulder, and it’s the only thing keeping him tethered. “Stand down,” I tell him, voice low but not a whisper. “Wait.” My words land hard. Not because I don’t want to tear the place apart, but because I want it to be her decision to end it, and I know Sage. If she’s letting this happen, there’s a reason beyond my sight. One wrong move now and we lose more than we save. We lose the chance to hit him where he thinks he’s safe. So we stay. Every man in the trees holds his breath until it hurts. I watch Sage’s chin tremble the tiniest fraction, and something in me breaks and steels at the same time, a promise I can’t say aloud. We wait for the signal. We wait for her to show us the moment when the world can be made right again.

Yakov’s voice fills the clearing like a sermon. “Any last words?”

Naomi spits to his feet, bright and loud. “Yeah, fuck you, asshole!”

Sage just smiles. That grin is wrong in the dark, wicked and calm all at once. It looks like someone who’s already won. Then the boxes are kicked. They go down under the girls‘ boots. Rope tightens. The world drops a fraction. For a second, everything stands still, my throat closes, my hands go white on the stock. Liam makes a move, a savage motion, and I can feel the air in the trees change like a held breath about to snap. He’s two seconds from breaking his oath. A tiny click cracks in my ear. Three short taps, like a match struck in the dark. The signal.

“Now!” I growl.

The trees explode into motion.

Liam slams forward first, a shadow through the brush. Naomi’s fall is barely a fall; she twists, knife flashing from somewhere in the fabric of the noose, and kicks at the guard closest to her. Sage drops and, for an instant, her body goes slack, and I’m already taking aim at the noose. Then she rolls, blade in her palm, launching into the first man at her feet. They don’t hang. They fight. Of course, they fight.

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