Page 14 of Bound By Obsession

Relief washes over me, but it’s short-lived. Huxley flicks on the lights, and I notice the window slightly ajar, the curtains fluttering gently with the night breeze. It was definitely closed before I left with Hux, and given that there’s a flat outcrop of roof where we overlook the main lobby, it’s not totally ridiculous to think someone could have been out there.

“Check the bathroom and wardrobe,” I instruct, my voice steady but firm. “Make sure no one else is here.” Dax,Huxley, and I move swiftly, checking closets, under the bed, and eventually the bathroom. There’s no one. But the unease remains, gnawing at my gut. Someone was here, and they wanted us to know.

I return to the bed, kneeling beside Avery. She stirs at my touch, her eyes fluttering open. “Hey,” she murmurs sleepily. “What’s going on?” I brush a strand of hair from her face, forcing a smile.

“Nothing, sweetheart. Just a little scare.” Huxley grunts as if he would have given a different response, but doesn’t speak. Maybe he’s taking this two-week break from being in control seriously. Garrett rouses then, starting to tug at my hoodie. I hold back from his forceful invitation to join them on the bed, triggering his curiosity. He sits up and narrows his eyes.

“What happened?” Huxley hands him the crumpled business card. Garrett’s expression darkens as he reads the message, and Dax nods to his unasked question, his face growing grim. “You think he…he was here?” Garrett narrows his eyes on the open window.

“Undoubtedly, but why? He was right there, so close to-” my throat closes as I look down at Avery. A tiny body lost within a baggy sweatshirt, her blonde hair is pooled across the pillow, her eyes sunken. An angel whose wings are weighed down by misery. I long to free her of those weights and watch her soar. “Why would he get so close and just walk away?”

“Because he’s taunting us,” Huxley huffs loudly. “Because he fucking can.” Swiping his hand out, a vase of flowers flies across the room and shatters against a wall. We all take notice at the same time, eyes widening at the battered yellow roses now littering the carpet. Roses the exact shade of Avery’s hair. Roses that weren’t sitting on the desk when I left it. A symphony of groans echo between us.

“We’re in over our heads,” Dax mutters, looking at each of us in turn. He starts to pace while I remain on my knees, happy to hold Avery’s hand. She blinks over at me with large, blue eyes.

“We can’t ignore this,” Huxley states, dropping into an armchair.

“We need to inform the police,” I add. There’s a few groans at that suggestion, but not from Avery. Her thumb strokes the back of my hand and she nods slightly.

“He’s never going to leave me alone, is he?” She asks. Her voice is so quiet, I believe they were for my ears only. Garrett’s grip tightens around her regardless.

“We won’t let anything happen to you,” I promise. It didn’t exactly answer her question, but I can’t lie to her. I don’t know how or when Fredrick will strike and that uncertainty is tearing me apart from the inside. This taking charge business sucks and I glance up to Huxley. The gravity of stress is weighing on him heavily, his frown bordering on a scowl.

Garrett and Dax exchange a glance, a silent agreement passing between them. “We’ll take shifts,” Garrett suggests. “Make sure someone’s always awake and alert.”

Huxley nods. “Good idea.” The tightness in my chest eases a fraction.Finally, some cooperation. He pushes up from his seat. “I’ll inform the hotel security. We’ll go to the station first thing.” I agree. There’s no use going now - we don’t have a crime to report aside from a bit of writing which we can’t prove was actually from Avery’s stalker and a vase of flowers that were smashed before being inspected.

True to his word, Garrett sets up a watch rotation and double-checks the locks and windows. There’s no use asking Huxley to hire a security detail; we’ve had that fight before. Since the phone lines at Hughes Manor were tapped, resulting in him being shot, Huxley doesn’t trust that anyone is above being bribed or blackmailed. The more people involved, the morecertain he is that harm will follow. I sit with Avery, pulling her close and feeling the steady beat of her heart against mine.

“I’m scared,” she admits softly, her voice trembling.

“I know,” I whisper back, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “But we’ll get through this. One day, your biggest worry will be what to have for dinner.”

“I can’t wait for that day,” she exhales loudly, snuggling into me. I hold her tightly, unable to let go. I’ve dived headfirst into the bond Avery has offered me and whereas typically I would be overthinking and freaking out, it’s too easy to become wrapped up in her. I’ll protect her at all costs, happy to have these moments of solace as my reward. To prove a point, Garrett nudges my arm with his head until he can also shimmy up my body. Scratch that, moments wrapped up in the three of them make it all worth it.

The Deja vu of standing in the police station entrance ended once we were shown through to a meeting room. A box of silver and gray, a steel table and hard chairs. The officer was dubious about letting four men accompany me inside so we settled on just Dax coming in whilst the rest gave statements elsewhere.

Three hours of repeating everything from my childhood, about Fredrick’s arrest, my adoption, my mom’s death, the attack at Huxley’s mansion and ultimately Huxley being shot. It all had to come back out, stopping short of the discovery of mine and Wyatt’s genetics. Whatever reason my mom and Nixon had to keep that truth hidden, I need to respect it. Something bigger is at play which I don’t want the police meddling in. Chances are I’ll end up just as a case file forgotten on a desk anyway.

“So, just to clarify,” Officer Dunsford repeats, leaning closely to his recording device. “You believe your biological father is stalking you, but you do not think these letters are of any concern?” He withdraws pieces of paper from his brown folder and spreads them out in front of me. Photocopies of Mr. XO’s letters - all of the ones I handed over to the police anyway. A few I kept back, tucked away. The emotion that bleeds from the letters seems personal and the connection I’ve built in my head between those words and the author…it’s not something I can or want to explain. Instead, I cross my arms defensively and sit back in the chair.

“Again, no. I know my…sperm donor,” I use when ‘father’ seems too far a stretch. “I know how he talks.” That’s all I wish to say on the matter. Officer Dunsford presents a detailed timeline, pointing out the coincidence of dates the letters were received and Fredrick Walters’ prison privileges increasing. The more freedom he had to writing supplies and sending mail, the more letters happened to appear in my name. But I’m not listening. There’s no way a man who used to spit on me and curse that I ruined everything good in his life, would write that I’m the light on his darkest day. It’s not a truth I’m willing to face.

Instead, I shift my focus. Dax is a stoic, solid presence beside me, yet to react to anything he’s heard inside this room. He most likely thought they knew it all from my transcripts, but the thorough officer opposite has brought some things to light that not even I wanted to remember. I wonder if Dax will keep it all to himself, an unspoken secret between us. Or if he’ll wait for a quiet moment out of my earshot to tell the others. They tell each other everything. Perhaps I want him to. It would save me repeating it all, if this unconventional relationship we’ve fabricated is going to continue growing and deepening. Fuck it, I’ll just ask for a copy of the recording and get it over with.

“Miss Hughes?” Officer Dunsford frowns. Dax’s knee nudges mine, snapping me back to the present.

“Huh? Sorry, what was that?”

“I asked if you feel safe in your present company or if you feel the need for police assistance? Given the seriousness of your father’s past crimes, we could arrange a surveillance team to keep watch?” I cringe at the word ‘father’. Fredrick doesn’t deserve any such title. A shudder runs through me and the fight I previously held onto so dearly, vanishes. This is it. I will always be connected to him.Hisdaughter.Hisvictim.

“Um, I’m not…” I chance a look at Dax. His icy blue eyes are open and inviting, awaiting my response. He doesn’t try to sway my decision or tell me what he thinks best. He’s following my lead. “I’m not too sure where we’re going to be staying,” I admit. “It’s something I need to discuss with…” I swallow, “with the others. We’re a team, you see?” I look away from Officer Dunsford’s penetrating gaze.

What must he be thinking? A naive young woman escorted into the station by four six-foot jocks in sweatpants and expensive sneakers. I glance at the mess of papers covering the table, subconsciously picking out words like abused and exploited. I must look like a poster for women with daddy issues clinging onto those who shower me with attention. I suddenly feel small, my shoulders rounding.

“We’re done here,” Dax announces, curling a hand around my waist. He tugs me to stand, not waiting for Officer Dunsford to stop flustering around with papers and rushed questions. Instead, Dax stops us by the door, casting a strong glance backward. “Avery is more than safe in our company. If you want to help, locate Nixon Hughes. We haven’t been able to contact him for weeks.”

Despite digging my heels in, Dax maneuvers me from the room to the trio waiting on a row of seats. I glance at each ofthem curiously. They’ve been trying to call Nixon for me? To come and collect me or to get answers. I dread that it’s the former. Garrett is on his feet first but somehow Axel closes the gap between us quicker, grabbing me in a tight hug. Garrett tries to tackle me free but Axel turns, shielding me with his body. It’s a display that probably shouldn’t be happening in a police station, but I can’t help the smile that melts away my worries. Being in my head for too long is never a good thing.

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