Page 28 of Bound By Obsession

“Seriously Wyatt, I gave you one simple task and you can only think about yourself like usual.” I’m stunned silent for a second, before my eyebrows crease and the anger seeps back in.

“I’ve already told you. I’m not a fucking babysitter.” I seethe, wanting to call him out for all the lies so badly but needing tohold my cards close to my chest. I’m going to avenge Ray and take back control of the life I was meant to have, but a quick outburst in the foyer won’t do it. I need to be strategic. I need to bide my time. I need to be like Ray.

“We have to go, Wyatt,” Nixon repeats, quickly losing his patience. “Avery is on her way to a safe house of mine. I’ll take you there.”

“You think I’m going to leave Rachel to look after Avery?” I roll my eyes. I’m not leaving, and to prove it, I reach out and take Rachel’s hand. Nixon tracks the movement and sighs loudly, his tone relaxing slightly.

“I figured you’d feel differently considering this.” Withdrawing a piece of folded paper out of his pocket, Nixon reaches across the space to hand it to me. The guards at his back tense, veins popping out of their arms with the tight grip on their guns. It’s then I realize, they’re waiting for my command to remove Nixon. They think I’m their boss now.

Taking the paper, I unfold it for the briefest moment and instantly snap it shut again. I don’t need to read it to know what it says.

“Where did you get this?” I crumple the page in my hand. My heart is jackhammering in my chest, a rush of adrenaline fighting with the pills I recently took. Perhaps I’m paranoid but the chain reaction of those two components takes root until my hand is shaking around the paper and blood is roaring in my ears. I’m going to vomit, faint and/or die - probably all in that order. Nixon smiles then, an eerie expression on his aged face.

“You have your sources, I have mine. Get in the fucking car. We need to talk.” Turning on his heel, Nixon leaves. The security guards follow him out, keeping close and vigilant. It allows me a brief moment to look at Rachel, who’s already smiling sweetly.

“Do what you have to do. I’ll be here when you’re ready to come home.” If only she knew that those words nearly broughtme to my knees with the desire to hug her legs. Not trusting myself to linger, I place a quick kiss on her cheek.

“I’ll be back. I promise.” Without a second look, I walk out of Rachel’s world, regretting every step I put between us.

“Garrett!” I chastise, tugging him back from the kitchen by his T-shirt sleeve. He pauses mid-bite, looking down at me guiltily. “We’re supposed to be mad at him.” I stand tall, arms crossed and shoulder to shoulder with Dax and Axel. We all glare at Huxley, casually leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Sorry guys, he got me doughnuts. I have no issues here.” Garrett sinks his teeth into the cream dessert and slinks away. The rest of us aren’t so easily assuaged. The central island between us is covered with food, ending with a crate of wine and several bottles of pink gin.

“Ohhh, ice cream!” Meg appears then, instantly drawn to a tub of cookie dough poking out of the top of a paper bag. I clench my jaw, allowing her to retrieve the tub and a spoon. Sensingthe tension rippling between us, Meg suddenly looks around and excuses herself, retreating to the living area.

“Some of us can’t be bought so easily.” I glare at Huxley. He’s unaffected, his ankles crossed and hands leaning against the worktop behind him. He was fully expecting this reception.

“What if something had happened to you?” Dax says, followed by a sharp huff. Huxley rolls his tongue between his teeth.

“Then only one of us would have been harmed, and the rest of you would still be here to look after Avery.”

“You’re out of your mind if you think we’d be able to restrain her from coming after you,” Axel grits out. It’s true. Huxley has taken a bullet for me once. Never again. I was preparing to climb out the window and go after him when the SUV pulled up outside the beach house. Hux’s chocolate brown eyes darken and he stands straighter.

“You’d better find a way. I’m doing the supply runs. It’s non-negotiable.” Pushing away from the counter, Huxley attempts to storm away until Axel slams a hand into his chest. A moment of uncertainty passes when I can fully envision a fight breaking out. Moving swiftly, I put myself between the two of them.

“Why are you acting like this?” I frown up at Huxley’s stone-like expression. At some point, for some unknown reason, a wall has been slammed down between us. Just when I thought we were getting back on track with his eating and our relationship. Just when I thought our dynamic was going back to how it used to be, he’s shut me out.

“I’m saving your damn life,” Huxley snaps. I feel Axel and Dax tense behind me, offended by his tone. I manage to hold my ground, despite the sinking feeling that I’m losing him. He’s drifting away from me, despite our bodies being barely a few inches apart. A long exhale comes through Huxley’s nose. “Go back to worrying about who will share your bed, Swan. I’ll bein the background, doing whatever it takes to keep you safe and I’m sorry to say, I don’t even need you to like me for me. Maybe it’s too late for us.” He leaves then, snatching my heart from my chest and stomping all over it in the process.

The slam of the door echoes through the kitchen, leaving a hollow silence in its wake. My breath catches in my throat, and the weight of Huxley’s words sinks in, dragging me down with them.

Maybe it’s too late for us.

The words play over and over in my mind, each repetition cutting deeper. After everything we’ve been through and all of the progress we’ve made? That’s it? I stand frozen, staring at the spot he just vacated, my chest tight and my pulse thrumming in my ears. A thousand things I should’ve said, could’ve said, race through my head, but nothing came out when he clearly needed to hear them.

I feel a warm hand settle on my shoulder—Axel, always grounding me—but even his touch can’t ease the ache clawing at me. Dax is on my other side, quiet as usual, his easy going grin replaced by a somber frown.

“He didn’t mean it. He’s just stressed.” Axel’s voice is soft, his concern clear, but all I can do is shake my head. Because no, it’s not just stress. We’re all freaking stressed here, and no one else is cutting themselves off. Quite the opposite in our search for reasons to keep living and laughing. In terms of excuses, I do not accept Huxley’s. If he’s so concerned with keeping me safe, he should start with protecting my heart, not leaving it as an open fissure bleeding out. The man who has always had my back, who’s taken a bullet for me, has decided we’re no longer worth fighting for, and didn’t even give me a chance to tell him he’s wrong. Or perhaps he did and I’ve just held my tongue for too long.

Garrett whistles low from his position on the sofa. I half-turn, seeing how he’s finished his doughnut and is pushed up against Meg, sharing her ice cream one spoonful at a time. “What crawled up Hux’s butt and convinced him to become a martyr?”

I bite down on my lip, hard enough to draw blood, but it’s nothing compared to the pain coursing through me. Huxley has been my rock. And now, he’s bashing about upstairs, slipping further from my grasp with every passing second. The last man who was slamming around on the floor above appeared with a bag in hand and walked out of my life for good. I felt Wyatt’s loss like a knife to the gut and silently cried myself to sleep that night. So why aren’t my feet moving to run upstairs and insist Huxley talks to me, that we work this thing out before it gets worse?

Because I’m stubborn and I’m fucking furious with his sudden change of heart, that’s why.

Snatching a bottle of pink gin, I twist off the cap and take a long swig, feeling the burn spread through my chest. Dax raises a brow but doesn’t comment, his arms hanging loose by his sides as he watches me. Axel, too, stays silent, his hand still resting on my shoulder, his thumb brushing soothing circles that do nothing to quell the storm inside me.

“That’s one way to deal with it,” Garrett mutters, his mouth half-full of ice cream. Meg elbows him sharply, sending him a glare. He shrugs, unbothered.

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