Her Obsession (by Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 31

An Anchor I Needed.

Sage

“It’s more complicated than just staying,” I murmured, voice low, like the shadows might overhear. “Just saying I want to. You don’t understand the lengths Yakoly will go to if he finds out I’m here. With you. Alive. He’ll have every hitman, every ghost, every contract killer in his arsenal thrown your way. Just to get to you. Just to drag me back and make an example of you in the process.”

Conner stilled.

“I’m not exaggerating,” I added, throat tight. “You haven’t seen what he does to the people I care about. He finds them, rips them apart, makes sure I watch. And then he keeps them. Broken, bleeding, as leverage. Just to remind me I don’t get to have anything. Anyone.”

I swallowed, fingers trembling. I hated this part of the truth. The part that felt like weakness.

“That’s why I left. Every time I felt myself getting attached. Every time I wanted to stay, to try. I ran. Because people like me, we don’t get to have homes, or people, or soft mornings and button-down shirts that smell like safety. We get blood, and warnings, and a long fucking list of names we couldn’t save.”

He knelt in front of me, breathing slow and steady, his large hands settling gently on my knees.

“You think I don’t understand monsters, little ghost?” he said quietly. “I’ve dealt with warlords, cartels, men who believe in power more than they believe in God. But you think I’d let them touch me just because you came into my life?”

His eyes burned into mine. Fierce. Unshaken.

“I don’t need you to disappear to protect me. I need you to trust me. To let me fight beside you, not around you.”

I blinked, the weight of that sinking in deep. No one had ever wanted that before. Not the real fight. Not me.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” I whispered.

“Maybe not,” he said. “But I know what I’m offering.”

And fuck, it cracked something in me. Because for the first time in years, I wanted to believe him. Even if it meant painting a target on his back. Even if it meant facing Yakolv head on. Even if it meant letting myself be seen. The door swung open, and Liam, Nico, and Matteo walked in, their steps halting instantly when they saw me. They stopped dead in their tracks, eyes wide, sizing me up like I was some elusive myth made flesh.

Liam was the first to break the silence, a low whistle slipping out. “Well, shit… you really are as small as Conner said.”

Nico’s gaze flickered between me and the array of tech gear scattered across the room behind him. “Any chance I can get your eyes on my set up before you ghost off again?”

Matteo grinned, leaning in. “And I want to see you work with the men, train them, teach them how to think like you do. Mirov’s men won’t know what hit ’em.”

Liam nodded, a grin tugging at his lips. “Yeah, if you’re half as lethal as Conner says, you’re gonna be one hell of a force.”

I could feel the weight of their attention, admiration mixed with a hint of playful intimidation. Conner stepped forward, cutting through the moment with his calm but firm voice. “Hold up. She’s been through hell. Let her rest before you start planning battles and system overhauls.”

He placed a protective hand on my shoulder, guiding me gently away. “We’ll get to all that. But right now, you rest.”

Nico grinned, giving me a teasing salute. “Fair enough. But just so you know, the offer stands. When you’re ready, I want you to see my setup and do all that bad ass shit right in front of me so I can learn every trade secret you’ve got.”

gave a tired smile back. “I’ll hold you to that.”

1/2

8:03 pm

An Anchor I Needed.

And with that, Conner led me from the room, the boys’ intrigued gazes following us out. The moment Conner opened the door to the room next to his, a wave of familiarity washed over me. This wasn’t his room, but I’d been here enough times to know every scratch on the doorframe, every scuff on the floorboards. It wasn’t home, but it was close. Safe. For now. He stepped back and let me in without a word, and I crossed the room slowly, as if the shadows themselves might bite. I slid onto the bed, the thin mattress sighing under me. The weight of the day clung to my limbs, the bullet in my shoulder, the adrenaline that still hummed faintly beneath my skin, but here, in this quiet space, I could almost pretend I was just a girl trying to rest.

“I’m right next door,” Conner said, voice low and steady. “If you need anything, just call.”

His words held a promise I wasn’t used to, one I wasn’t sure I deserved. I nodded, the exhaustion dragging at my bones. “Thanks,” I whispered.

He lingered for a moment longer, his eyes searching mine like he wanted to read every secret I’d buried deep down. I met his gaze and saw something…something softer than the iron I usually faced, before he turned and closed the door gently behind him. The room felt emptier after that, but not cold. The quiet gave me space to breathe, to let my thoughts wander and to wrestle with the truth I hadn’t dared voice yet. Here, just feet from him, I could almost believe maybe I wasn’t as broken or as hunted as I’d spent years pretending. I let the blanket fall away a little and stretched out, the ache in my shoulder sharp but dulling with rest. My fingers traced patterns on the sheets, thoughts circling around the what-ifs, the maybes, and the impossible hope that maybe, just maybe, I could stay. Sleep came slow, teasing me in small waves, until the night pulled me under.

In the middle of the dark, I woke, restless and unable to stay confined to my bed. My heart was heavy with fears I couldn’t shake, and my feet moved before my mind caught up. Quiet as a whisper, I slipped from the room, padding softly down the hall. His door was just ahead, the faint light from his bathroom spilling from beneath the crack. He liked to keep that on at night. I paused, my breath shallow, then pressed the door open and slipped inside. I watched him as he slept, like I’ve done a hundred times before, but never this close. His features were soft and relaced, his light brown hair tussled in sleep, his mouth slightly parted and his body curled around a pillow. I pulled back the covers, quietly, slowly…The bed was warm, inviting, an anchor I hadn’t known I needed. I curled up beside him, his back against my chest, careful not to disturb his sleep, closing in the space between us. His steady breath was a lifeline, pulling me from the edge of everything I’d feared. Curled against him, I finally let my guard fall. This is what it felt like to hold him…

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7 days ago

such a beautiful story

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8:03 pm P PDD.

Her Obsession.