Page 15 of Edging Obsession

Lee pipes in, “They already have. There are tons of pictures of Miles and Jules together, and lots of cringe-worthy comments about her.”

My arms drop. Is that why she attempted suicide? Were they bullying her? I’ll fucking kill everyone responsible. Jules has pumped life into me—a perfect fit. Any harm that comes to her will be dealt with by me. I’m the only one who can inflict pain on her, and that’s under her control.

Callan’s hands wave in front of my eyes. “Earth to Miles. When do you plan on leaving?”

“Today. I know it’s short notice, but there are tons of drummers waiting in the wings.” I turn to Lee. “You shouldn’t have a problem finding someone fast.”

He agrees, the band members grumble, and I assure them I’ll rejoin on the European Tour.

I pack everything from the bus and hotel since I hope to bring Jules to my house. This will allow us a month before flying to Europe. The flight is undisturbed. Andreas, one of my bodyguards, picks me up from the airport and brings me straight to the hospital. Hendrick is outside waiting.

“What are you doing out here?”

He appears exhausted. “Because they won’t let me up there. She’s on the psyche floor.”

I barge through the doors, past the main desk as a woman calls out to me, stating I can’t go anywhere without a badge.

An elevator door opens, and Hendrick and I slip in. “What floor is psyche?”

He hits the fifth floor, and I’m readying myself for anyone willing to stop me from seeing Jules. No one knows what floor we went to so there isn’t any commotion when we get off. I ask a young nurse for her room. At first, she argues I’m not allowed there, and then when she recognizes me, her eyes widen.

“Nash, right?”

“Yes.”

“Um…”

I tip my head to the side. “Please. Where’s Jules? My girl needs me.”

Her face blushes, and she whispers the room number. When I enter, an older man and woman are seated by the wall, talking softly. They stop and rise, staring at me.

The man asks, “Who are you?”

A soft smokyMilescomes from the bed. My attention shifts from them to her. Jules’ stringy curls are knotted in some areas on her head. Dark circles stain the skin under her eyes. A bandage wraps around her left wrist, and thick socks hide her delicate feet. Her legs are flush to her chest, arms hugging them close. Resting her chin on her knees, she averts her eyes, staring at the bed.

My gaze locks on Jules when I speak to no one in particular. “Can we have a minute?”

The man and woman are about to protest, but Jules’ rough voice says, “Mom, Dad, it’s fine. This is Miles.”

They give me a quick glance and hesitantly step out of the room. With my arms folded, I give her a hard stare, which she holds for a second and turns away.

“What happened, Jules?”

Rubbing her forehead on her knees, her voice brittle as a dead leaf, she asks, “Why are you here?” I repeat my question, and tears trickle down her cheeks. “You never bothered to call, text, and now you want to know what happened?” Her eyes finally meet mine.

“I don’t do phone calls or texting.”

She bobs her head with a humorless laugh and wipes her nose. “No, I guess you don’t.”

I step closer to her. “Answer me.”

“I couldn’t take it anymore.” Tears batter her. She appears to be at war with words while tending to her sobs.

I crowd her space by sitting on the bed. “What couldn’t you take anymore?”

Jules waves her other hand in the air. “Everything. Losing you. Losing my job. The online attacks.”

Her hand rests on the bed, wrist wrapped, and a brooding anger simmers in the background. “Why would you think you lost me?”

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