Page 19 of Bound By Obsession

“Last stop before we enter no man’s land,” Huxley announces, pulling into a gas station.

“Psst,” I whisper into Dax’s ear as his eyes fly open, arresting me in a cerulean prison I would gladly receive a life sentence for. A smile takes his face hostage, those full lips close enough to make me blush. The SUV pulls to a stop, breaking the moment between us as he sits up and winks at Axel. Now we’re both blushing, much to Dax’s amusement.

We all exit the car and stretch our legs, backs and necks. Axel takes up the position of filling up the SUV with gas, much to the female attendant’s delight. It helps that this state is unaffected by the winter and he’s shirtless. Rather, it’s balmy with only a slight breeze trailing by lazily.

I lean against the trunk to appreciate Axel’s broad chest and washboard abs too, remembering just how lickable every inch of him is, both what’s on show and what’s hidden in his sports shorts. His thick thighs are poking out of the bottom, well-defined calves flexing with each movement. Once finished, he heads inside the small shop to pay with Garrett right on his heels. I notice Huxley standing off to the side in the way he likes to distance himself, looking down the street. His blond hair is wisping around his face, but fails to hide the contemplative look pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“Hey,” I approach, tapping lightly on Huxley’s arm. “What’s wrong?” Twisting his head, I see the true weight of Huxley’s stress. It rings his eyes, ridding every trace of decent sleep we got last night. Snuggled in Huxley’s arms felt like home, even on the lumpy mattress and singular sheet we shared.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head and looks away from me again. There must be something truly fascinating about the view down the street, even if I can’t see it. “I just…Never mind. Don’t worry about it.”

“Talk to me,” I urge gently. Arms wind around my middle and I feel Dax’s hair tickling my neck. Whatever look he gives Huxley, causes the larger man to sigh. I ignore the rise of his wide shoulders, and how even with minimum food and exercise, he’s still a beast of muscle.

“I’m concerned about blindly following Nixon’s instructions,” he says sheepishly. Ducking his head, Huxley chooses not to watch the confusion pass over my face.

“You think Nixon would…trick me?” It’s my turn to frown, the words feeling bitter on my tongue. “I mean, I’ve been wondering what we’re going to find at this safe house but I have no reason to think it’ll be anything less than a fortress. Nixon has always kept me safe.”

“Mmm,” Huxley scratches his stubbed jaw, “but why? I’m not trying to be the bad guy here Aves, but you’re not…you’re not his daughter. You’re the product of his wife’s affair. If I was him, I don’t know if I’d be so,” Huxley struggles to find the right word, “accommodating.”

Ouch, I think to myself, but manage to withhold from flinching. I may not be genetically tied to Nixon but he’s been my rock for all these years. Someone I can always rely on to look out for my best interests, even when his decision to send me to Waversea seemed questionable. I have to trust him, otherwise the fragile foundation of who I’ve built myself up to be will slip out from beneath me.

“What are we talking about?” Garrett appears, his inked arms wrapped around two paper bags overflowing with snacks. I note an unhealthy amount of beef jerky poking free. Dax raises his head from my shoulder but doesn’t release me.

“Hux is expressing his concerns for our destination.”

“The safe house?” Axel steps into Garrett’s side. Now we’re a huddle, all crowded on the street and blocking out onlookers. Taking my hand, Axel presses on. “Why haven’t you said this earlier?”

“Yeah,” Garrett scoffs, “likebeforewe sat in a car for three days.”

“I, um, well,” Huxley clears his throat. His brown eyes settle on me, a guilty shrug lifting his shoulders. “Nixon said that Wyatt would be joining us there. I didn’t want to pass up the chance to get to Wyatt, to bring him back into our dynamic. But now, the closer we get…” Huxley looks around nervously, keeping his voice low and rubbing his chest in a circular motion. “I’m worried it’s a trap.”

A heavy dose of reality hits us all at once. I wish the street was busier, if only to give me something to look at. A distraction. Instead, I’m left staring at the patchwork road, fixated on theunfurling of dread within. I trust Huxley implicitly, but he’s wrong this time. He has to be. It’s all that overthinking, causing him to see villains where there are none. Axel is first to break the silence, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

“Whatever we find and whatever happens, Avery’s safety is paramount.” I’m suddenly no longer a part of this conversation. Hell, I feel like I’m eavesdropping, despite being held there by Dax’s arms and Axel’s hand. A soft tumble of laughter escapes me.

“Guys, I assure you, it’ll be fine. We can trust Nixon. I’d bet my life on it.” The resulting glares I receive would be enough to make a lesser woman shrink away. Luckily, I’ve had years of therapy and self-defense lessons to stand tall, even when my chest is crushing inward. The safe house is in reach. Nixon will be there with Wyatt. We can finally get some answers, some clarity, and that isn’t worth walking away from now. For better or for worse, I need to know what’s at that safe house.

Huffing, I lean my forearms on the timber railing and stare longingly at the horizon. Another day in paradise, and I can’t wait to leave. A salty breeze tingles my nostrils on a deep inhale as I try to ease the tightness of my chest. Rhythmic lapping of waves in the distance are only broken by the occasional squawk of a seagull hovering overhead and diving into the sea in hunt for its breakfast.

Rounding the porch, I hop down the steps and walk across the golden sand. My sneakers sink slightly with each step towards the shore as I enjoy the cool gentle winds before the sun rises and brings another fresh winter’s day with it. The sky blends from the palest pinks to purest blues. I pull out my phone to take another photo for the ‘Avery Collection.’ The day I can actually share the images with her can’t come soon enough.

Avery would love it here, and I wish for the millionth time I’d begged my mom to bring her along. Every mile that stretched between us had wretched out another piece of my heart, leaving a trail from here to Waversea. With the days of driving and three motel stopovers, I lost track of exactly where we actually are, and the lack of signal doesn’t give any indication either.

Checking my ponytail is secure, I adjust my sports bra and stop at the water’s edge. Pushing my phone back into the hidden pocket of my black lycra leggings, I roll my neck and start to stretch my arms in large circles. The freezing water laps against my shoes, a shiver rolling through me. I’ll be sweating soon enough. Stepping forward into a lunge, I continue my usual lacrosse warm-up routine, making sure every muscle is properly stretched for my morning jog.

Starting slow, my feet slap against the recoiling waves as I follow its edge along the darkened sand. Before long, my arms are pumping and breath is visible in heated puffs. My calves burn as I push harder, my mind drifting to wonder what Avery is up to right now. I hope she’s managing to hold her own with a house full of men, although even Wyatt had seemed to be softening last I heard.

I skid to a halt seconds before colliding with the high metal fence marking the edge of the rental’s property. I’d been so caught up in my thoughts, I almost hadn’t noticed I’d already ran the two miles. Looking up, I see a bird fly overhead, having the freedom to travel beyond the fence. Not for the first time, I wonder if this ‘vacation’ is more of a prison sentence.

Checking the time on my phone, the screen lights up with a notification of thirty seven voicemails and my stomach plummets.No. I’ve trekked up and down this godforsaken beach countless times trying to find a signal, and somehow I missed it. Tears fill my eyes as I desperately tap the screen but I have no bars again, I can’t even listen to the voicemails Avery has left.Falling to my knees in the sand, I hover over the device and pray for a miracle. I just need to know she’s okay.

As the sun peeks over the sea, I give up hoping I might get to hear my best friend’s voice and rise with my mood soured. Banishing my troubles, the only way I know how, through exercise, I push myself to my limits running back towards the house. My feet fly over the sand as the sun rises higher in the distance. Returning to the spot I stood in previously, I bend to rest my hands on my knees, gulping in mouthfuls of air and focusing on evening out my erratic heartbeat.

Glancing back at the beach house, I can’t help my scowl. No matter how much I’ve tried to enjoy myself, a niggling feeling is keeping me in a constant state of unease. In all of its luxury, something about the house feels off. Mom makes good money, but surely almost three weeks here has amounted to a small fortune, yet she still hasn’t given a clue as to when we might finally return home.

Both stories of the exterior are painted a powdered blue, with the loft bedroom I have claimed poking out at the top. Huge bay windows cover every back wall, ensuites included, to allow all rooms the spectacular views of a seaside sunset. I don’t know why we needed to travel so far for a rental with six bedrooms but maybe it was all that was available at such short notice. Noticing mom’s shadow pass by the kitchen window, I head back inside.

“How was your run?” Her cheery voice greets me as I walk straight for the refrigerator, grabbing a bottle of water and downing half its contents. Already in her bikini top and linen shorts under a silk kimono, mom places a frying pan onto the electric hob. The rich glow to her skin from sunbathing blends with her free-flowing brown locks.

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