Page 75 of His Secret Obsession

I should have known better.

Gravel flings out from behind my car as I peel out of the driveway, my foot pressing down on the gas pedal.

I have to walk away, for his sake, even if it hurts like hell. It was stupid to think Luke would ever be okay with this.

Trees blur on both sides of the car windows as I fly down the road. My heart twists in my chest.

But I love him. I love him, I love him…I love…him.

I’m only a few miles down the road before the sobs tearing from my lungs make it impossible to drive. I pull over, dial Hazel’s phone number, and tell hereverything.

Jax

They are both gone because of me. Sitting in the darkened living room, I’m sprawled on the floor with my back against the couch. I scrub a hand over my face, my eyes swollen from dried tears as I glance at the clock that sits on the TV stand. The bright red numbers are blurry to my tired eyes, but it’s just past midnight. Sighing, I reach towards the six-pack sitting on the floor next to me. My hand meets nothing but empty air.

“Who drank all my beer?” My words slur together, but I contemplate going to the kitchen for more anyway. But the roomis spinning, and…shit, it’s hard to focus. Closing my eyes, I picture her face.

My Maddie.

Heartbroken because of me.

Gone because of me.

Just…gone.

Paige must grow tired of my bullshit after I refuse to show up for work the next three days. She calls me on the third morning, grumbling about running the shop by herself. I groggily promise her a raise and hang up. Thirty minutes later, there’s a light knock on my front door.

“Go away,” I mumble into the pillow that my face is currently burrowed into, my body slung across the couch. “I’m busy.” Busy missing her, wishing my only brother didn’t hate me, and feeling sorry for myself. I groan when the knock sounds again, this time a little more persistent. “Fine. I’m coming.”

I nearly tumble off the couch as I stand up, stretching out the kinks in my back. Jesus, even my knees are stiff. Kicking over empty food containers as I stumble to the door, I pull it open with a petulant glare but stop short at the sight of my unexpected visitor.

Mary.

“Did Paige call you?” I narrow my eyes, but she stands there looking sweet and innocent, as much as an old hellcat like her is capable of anyway. She holds a covered casserole dish in her hand and balances a pitcher of sweet tea on top. When shesmiles at me, some of her fire-engine red lipstick is smeared across her front teeth. And she, of course, ignores my question.

“Are you going to invite me in, or should I stay on the porch?”

With a heavy sigh, I take the food from her, ignoring the way my stomach rumbles when the smell of baked chicken invades my senses. My mouth waters, and I try to recall the last time I ate something substantial. Mary follows me inside, wrinkling her nose as she looks around. Although she’s trying to act casual, her eyes won’t meet mine. There’s a soft, sympathetic look on her face as she takes in my disheveled appearance. Shame heats my cheeks, and I avert my gaze as I carry the food to the kitchen.

I know what she sees: hair that hasn’t been washed in days, overgrown scruff along my jaw, and food stains on my white shirt.

And I’m pretty sure I stink.

“I would ask how you’re feeling, but I think I already know the answer,” she says.

“Ouch. Tell me how you really think.”

Setting the food on the kitchen counter, I lean back against it and cross my arms. She stands in the doorway, noting the dishes piled in the sink and the overflowing trash can. I’m usually meticulous about keeping a clean house, so it’s pretty telling. But I don’t see any judgment.

“What do you know?” I ask, swallowing around the dry, thick feeling in my tongue.

“Paige said after you called out two days in a row, she showed up here to check on you. Apparently, you answered the door acting like a regressed caveman and told her to leave.” I grimace, because she’s not wrong. “She noticed that Maddison’s car hasn’t been around and said you looked like you could use a friend.”

I scoff. “That’s a nice way of saying I look like shit.”

Mary shrugs. “She didn’t say it that politely, but I didn’t think you wanted a play-by-play.”

My lips twitch, and I feel a trickle of amusement, despite my foul mood. No, Paige isn’t one to hold back.

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