Page 2 of Bound By Obsession

“I get what this really is about.” I twist to raise a brow at Garrett’s solemn appearance, his brows furrowed beneath a mess of dark hair.

“You do?”

He leans against the counter, nodding to himself. “You don’t want to heal the hand you jerked off your twin brother with.”

“Dude?!” Dax yells, smacking the back of Garrett’s head at the same time as Axel shouts, “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Despite all of this, Garrett can’t hide his grin. Oh how he loves stirring shit up first thing in the morning. He reaches for some paper towels, crossing the kitchen to clean the island. When the mug has been wiped down, Garrett gently places the remaining tea into my uninjured hand.

“He’s not, by the way.” Garrett’s tongue rolls across his teeth, barely containing whatever bait he’s dangling for me, his eyes gleaming with a dare. With nothing else to do while Axel is continuing to hold my hand hostage under the water, I bite.

“Who’s not what?”

His answering grin is too smug not to want to punch him. “Wyatt. He’s not your twin brother.” I feel myself harden at the same time Axel does. Dax has given up on cooking, all the stoves off and a hand towel thrown over his shoulder. Everyone is still, except Garrett who’s starting to vibrate with smugness.

“If this is a prank,” I say carefully, “it’s not funny.” Garrett rolls his eyes, as if such a notion is ridiculous. Whipping a piece of crumpled, folded paper out of his shorts pocket, he waves itaround for all to see. Even Huxley, who has appeared at the kitchen island since I last looked.

“I raided Wyatt’s room for some hair samples, and you shed all over the house. It’s like having a cat,” Garrett picks a hair from his T-shirt and flicks it away. It was most definitely one of his own. “And then there was the old brush in the box under your bed labeled ‘Mom’s stuff’. I sent all three samples off to a lab for DNA testing.”

I reckon a gut punch would have had less effect.

“And you’re only just telling me now?!” I gasp, simultaneously throwing the mug into the basin and jerking my hand free. Reaching for the paper, Garrett holds it high out of my reach.

“I mean, even on express, these things take time. It’s not magic, you know.” Garrett is rolling his eyes and tutting while I prepare to climb him like a tree.

“Give it to me!” I shriek. Garrett’s laugh echoes through his chest.

“Oh, I’ve missed hearing those words.” After a few more failed attempts, I grow frustrated and shove at his chest with one wet and one dry hand.

“Tell me what it says,” I almost plead, encasing my desperation within anger. It’s naive to think these guys don’t know exactly how eager I am to hear the slither of truth Garrett is feeding me. If Wyatt isn’t my twin, everything can be okay in the world again. I can shed this shit-ton of guilt consuming me. Wyatt always worried I would drive a wedge between him and his Shadowed Souls. He was right.

“Take a seat,” Garrett nudges me towards Huxley. I don’t immediately respond. “Trust me. You’re going to need it.” As soon as my butt touches the stool, Garrett lays out the page. He takes the time to smooth out the creases, his hand pausing over a paragraph at the bottom of the page. The others crowd in aroundme, three muscled men holding their breath as Garrett talks us through the results. “See here, there are no genetic markers between you and Wyatt. You’re not related.”

My heart is unraveling. The relief is too much to comprehend, and I’m not even thinking about how long Garrett has had this piece of paper. Instead, I poke at his fingers still shielding the bottom section.

“And this?” I look into Garrett’s dark gaze. He’s a sucker for my large eyes and the slight frown I put on for him. Chewing on his inner cheek, he looks the most nervous I’ve seen him all morning as he removes his hand.

“There’s always a catch, Peach. Turns out Wyatt doesn’t match the markers to Cathy either. But you do.” The silence in the room is thick enough to choke. No one wants to speak first and I finally understand. This is what Garrett had been hiding. Not for my sake, but for Wyatt’s. Once this truth is out in the world, everyone will know. Wyatt will be devastated. Garrett folds the paper and tucks it back in his pocket, then takes both of my hands tenderly in his. I’ve accepted that I’ll be getting that blister after all.

“You’re her daughter. Wyatt is not her son.”

I shake my head. Lifting the neckline of the orange hoodie, I dip the lower half of my face into it. The expensive cologne still clinging to the fabric grounds me, an anchor to a world turning on its axis once again. Why can’t I just be a normal girl, going to a normal school where nothing that isn’t normal happens to her?

Of course, there’s been so many times I would pretend Cathy was my real mom. She loved me without limits, gave me all of her attention and affection. Since the diary pages surfaced, this was the one part I hadn’t dare let myself wish for. I couldn’t handle that glimmer of hope being snuffed out. But there’s no use denying the black and white text on the page. I’m Cathy Hughes’ biological daughter. I have a real mom. Well,had.

“We can’t tell anyone this.” I breathe harshly. Huxley’s firm bicep shifts against me, his voice of reason ringing out.

“We can’t lie to him, Little Swan. He deserves to know.” It’s true. I know that as much as I can detect the twinge of regret in Huxley’s tone. He doesn’t want to be the one who keeps disagreeing with me, but he is right. I can’t hold that against him any longer. Shaking off the men caging me in, I round Huxley’s stool and tug on his arm.

“I’m ready for that shower now.”

“Really?” Huxley asks, too full of hope to deny. My smile is small as I give him another tug. He stands, towering over me yet pausing until I walk first. These men are used to a leader, someone to bind them together. I suppose I can step up temporarily.

“Everyone get ready and pack an overnight bag. Meet back here in an hour.”

“Where are we going?” Dax asks, glancing over at the unfinished breakfast. He doesn’t need to worry, Garrett is looking in the same direction and visibly salivating.

I squeeze Huxley’s arm for reassurance. “We’re bringing Wyatt home.” Like a snap of a rubber band, the energy in the room suddenly becomes charged. The men are beaming, nudging each other playfully. The stress of the past week fizzles away just like that and before he heads out, Axel places a kiss on my forehead.

“I hope you’re ready to drag him back kicking and screaming,” he chuckles. Oh, I’m not ready at all, but for the men in this room, I’m quickly coming to realize I’d do anything.

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