Page 39 of Bound By Obsession

“She’s always been like that, you know?” I mumble. Garrett doesn’t look my way but his ears prick up.

“Like what?”

“A paradox. Avery says she hates crowds and people, hiding away any chance she gets, but everyone she meets is drawn to her. She’s magnetic.” The outline of a smile tugs at Garrett’s cheek as he slowly cracks his knuckles.

“Well as long as those drawn to her keep their hands to themselves, I won’t have to become a master at breaking fingers beyond repair.” Turning to face me at last, Garrett’s grin has taken on a manic edge.

I try not to smile back but I can’t seem to figure Garrett out. Usually, I’d write him off as a self-centered jackoff. But for some reason, I like him. It’s the way he breaks all of his own rules for Avery, how he listens to her, adapts for her. How much he clearly has feelings for her, even though I doubt he’s recognized them yet.

The others in the kitchen have returned to preparing a meal. In record time, they are transferring plates to the dining table so I move over to the table. Garrett rushes past, shoving me off the chair I try to take at the head of the table. Opting for the next one closest, the smell of spices and onion fill the room. A stack of fajitas takes pride of place, surrounded by chopped salad, both meat and veggie fillings and a range of condiments.

While all of the men present take a seat with me, Avery remains standing, preparing a plate and carrying it outside. Tracking her beyond the windows, I watch Avery sit with Huxley, who is now on the wooden swinging seat. He still doesn’t smile or outwardly show any type of joy, but he leans in and takes a bite of the food she offers him. They eat together in silence, quietly sharing and enjoying each other’s company.

My scoff and eye roll doesn’t go unnoticed. My cheeks heat as the three men around the table immediately shift their attention toward me. “I’m sorry, I know he’s your friend and everything. I get the appeal with the rest of you but…I just don’t get what Avery sees in him. He’s so different from the man who was so full of life at Sweetwater Creek.”

“Don’t be too hard on Huxley. He wasn’t raised with love and affection like we were.” Dax’s voice drifts across the table with a calm understanding that catches me off guard. I suck in a breath, noticing how Garrett has swiftly diverted his attention to his plate, while Axel’s thigh presses firmly against Garrett’s under the table, a silent show of support. Axel’s hazel eyes meet mine, softened with a quiet sorrow.

“When Hux cares about someone, nothing else matters but their wellbeing. He’ll do anything to ensure their happiness, which, in his mind, often means he’s better off keeping his distance. We’ve all been through it.” A round of low grunts circles the table. “He just takes a little more convincing that he’s worthy of love.”

Forcing myself to plate up and act normal, I take a bite of my fajita, noting how I barely taste anything now. The first tremors of a headache are beginning to settle in the base of my skull. I was fully prepared to be here to support Avery, providing a woman’s touch when the testosterone became overbearing. I figured Fredrick would be located and thrown back in jail for a basic parole violation, then we’d all go back to school and carry on.

But none of that is true. Nixon believes there was foul play with Cathy’s death, that Fredrick has plans to capture Avery and her twin. To torture and kill us both.

“We’re so happy you’re here with us, Meg. Avery’s been so lost without you.” Dax interrupts my spiraling, smiling kindly just as I lift my food to my mouth and take a large bite. I forcemyself to swallow, Dax’s words having an opposite effect to what he intended. If anything, he’s just torn a larger hole through my chest. I’m sitting with a group of men who are openly in love with my best friend, my twin, and a dull thud in my ears whispers that they’d sacrifice me for her.

Avery would never allow it, but that’s only if she knew. Dropping my food, I suddenly stand. Those three pairs of eyes are on me again, watching too closely. I’m trapped in a safe house with no phone signal, no mode of transport and nowhere to go. I’m a lamb being led to the slaughter.

The back door creaks open, and the soft sound of Avery’s voice tugs at me. “Meg?” Her words are tentative, unsure, but I can’t stop. Her plate clatters on the counter behind me as she rushes to follow. I’m moving faster, trying not to break into a full sprint, my chest tightening with every step as I rush upstairs.

In the bedroom, I collapse into her arms, burying my face in her neck as though I could disappear. My fingers cling to her shirt, and she holds me back just as fiercely. Her hand strokes up and down my spine, each movement a soothing balm to the storm raging inside me.

“Aves, I love you.” The words come out in a hoarse whisper, muffled against her hair.

“I love you too.” Avery pulls away so she can see the miserable look on my face. “But?”

“I need to leave.” I rush the words out, hoping they don’t slice through her as sharply as they do me. We’ve just truly found each other, after all of this time. Her body stiffens, her face a mixture of confusion and fear. “I’m asking you to please let me go. The only people who know about me are in this house, and my mom. I know it’s selfish, I’m sorry, but I….I still have a chance. I could go back to my life and now I understand the dangers, I can be careful.”

Her face crumbles as the impact of what I’m saying hits her. I’ve just found her, and now I’m tearing myself away again. “But we’re together and the guys will keep you safe. It’s all going to be okay.” I can see by the tears in her eyes, she doesn’t believe that. She knows I’m right.

“The men downstairs are here for you, not me. They will do whatever it takes to keep you safe, and that’s amazing. Please understand that you’ve been fighting this unknown evil for months, but I’ve just found out about it. I need some time, and I need my own support system.”

Avery’s arms loosen, though her hands still grip my shoulders. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears, and her bottom lip trembles.

I step back, breaking the physical connection between us, though it feels like ripping a part of myself away. Her arms drop limply to her sides, and I see the moment her hope falters. “Nixon has kept us apart for a reason,” she sighs. “I was speaking to Huxley outside, wondering why Nixon sent me to Waversea instead of Cedarbrook with you. He didn’t want to draw attention to us as a pair. And until this is all over, I think he might be right.”

Her face crumples. The tears fall freely now, the quiet sobs wracking her shoulders. Avery has always been so strong. But now, standing here, vulnerable, there’s nothing she can do to fix this. Nothing that will hold us together when I’m the one walking away.

“This is my choice, not Nixon’s,” I manage to get out, my voice hoarse. “It’s my only chance of freedom.” This seems to sober Avery in an instant. That strength is back, straightening her posture. I’ve resonated with a desire she’s had stolen from her. She’s been living in this storm for months, while I’ve just stepped into it, unprepared, raw.

That night, in the cover of pitch black, I hug my twin goodbye. She turns into the chests of the men waiting to comfort her as I slip into the back of Nixon’s car, the tears silently falling and my heart cracking in time with the engine starting. I look at the clock on the dash, watching one minute strike past midnight.

“Merry Christmas, Aves.” I whisper into my knees. “Thank you for letting me go.”

To my pleasant surprise, the Shadowed Souls let me sleep most of the day away. Christmas Day. A day that should have been filled with joy and laughter, yet I couldn’t bring myself to face it. The weight of the past, the mess I’m tangled in, feels too heavy to bear right now. Throughout my slumber, I faintly felt the shift of bodies around me, someone always staying by my side. There were countless moments I could have let myself wake, but I chose not to. Dreaming seemed easier.

Behind my closed eyelids, I could pretend Meg was still here, laughing by my side. I could pretend Nixon hadn’t stolen his business partner’s baby to cover up his wife’s affair. Pretend I hadn’t ended up in Fredrick’s clutches anyway, despite everyone’s attempts to keep me safe. Memories of those darkest days tried to claw their way into my dreams more times thanI care to count, but each time, the warm arms of whoever was holding me chased them away.

At one point, I was certain I could smell remnants of Wyatt’s expensive cologne. It’s a powerful thing, dreaming, because I swore I could feel his arms tighten around me as if to anchor me here. There was even a faint whisper, telling me he would keep me safe. What a cruel lie for my mind to conjure up. But in the haze of sleep, I almost believed it.

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