Bound by Obsession (Shadowed Souls #2)

9. Chapter Nine

T he tightened grip on my pencil isn’t enough to keep my eyes from drooping. We’ve been at this for hours. Listing all of the places Wyatt might go after Dax’s cousin was unable to trace his phone. Either it’s off or Wyatt’s fiddled with the location settings. Huxley’s in the process of enlisting a PI, but strangely no one works this close to midnight. Working at the table beside me, Garrett is leaning his cheek on his palm and doodling on the edge of my page. Avery fell asleep a while ago, collapsed in a heap with Dax idly playing with her hair. It takes effort to hide my jealousy, wishing I was on comfort-Avery duty.

“How come she didn’t go to college with Meg?” Garrett mutters and my head jerks upright. I follow his eyeline, noting the gray sweatshirt pooling around Avery’s body. It must be a special edition for the team, given the pair of crossing lacrosse sticks and ball beneath the college logo. I offer Garrett a half-assed shrug.

“Would you pass up the chance to do classes in your sweatpants?”

“I already do classes in my sweatpants,” Garrett huffs through his nose. If he was expecting a more in-depth answer, he should ask me in the morning. “Do you believe she liked being alone, or do you think she didn’t realize she was being isolated? She sure seemed to warm to us quickly.” I frown, no longer seeing the list on my page. The words blur into one large smudge. Maybe Garrett actually has a point…

“What’s happening in that head of yours?” I look him over, not liking the dazed expression on his handsome face. His hair is scruffy, hanging low over his forehead.

Garrett finally takes his eyes away from Avery and smooths a hand over my thigh. “Just thinking.”

“That’s dangerous,” I snort. But now Garrett has powered up the train of thought, I struggle to rein it back into the station. Could it be true? Everything Avery thought was her choice, her preference, was actually part of some plan? Nixon makes the rules and she’s blindly followed them. I have no doubt that her safety was paramount, and that he must have been backed into a corner to put her in Wyatt’s care, but the gravity of the situation starts to dawn on me. Just how long has Avery been in danger, and if Fredrick Walters was just released from prison earlier this year, who or what exactly was she in danger of?

Tossing the pencil aside, I give up. Wyatt isn’t in any of the hotels we’ve called, the places he used to visit with his mom on rare weekend trips, any of the police stations or hospitals in the state and definitely not back at Hughes Manor. The gates are still being watched by the press, waiting for any sign of activity. There’s a webpage dedicated to live streaming it. Wherever he is, Wyatt doesn’t want to be found. I sigh, lowering my head onto the desk. All the while, Garrett absentmindedly strokes my leg, lulling me into a sense of solace.

The next thing I know, a firm hand is nudging my shoulder. My breath catches and I quickly wipe away the drool from my mouth. It’s seeped into my page, smudging the little progress I had made. Or lack of progress, I suppose.

“Hey,” Huxley shakes me a little. “Wanna grab some ice cream?” I smile lazily, shifting the heavy weight of Garrett’s body leaning against me. He continues to flop onto me until I lift and carry him over to the bed. Within seconds, he’s nuzzled in behind Avery, who’s still folded over Dax’s sleeping body. I shake my head, wondering how many kinks I’ll need to massage out of how many necks in the morning. Huxley is waiting for me in the hallway and hands me a bundle.

“What’s the occasion?” I yawn, dragging the hoodie over my shaved head and stuffing my feet into the sneakers. Whether because I’m tired or just because I’m me, Huxley tucks my arm into the crook of his and walks me to the elevators.

“No occasion. Just need some air.” True to Huxley’s words, the fresh air is just what we needed, despite the city fumes and never-ending ruckus of noise. The ice cream parlor is down the road and conveniently, open all night. It’s a quaint little spot, apparently frequented by lovers huddled at tables for two against each wall. No one spares Hux and I a second glance as he opens the door for me, our arms still linked.

At some point over the years, I think the guys went from humoring my need for physical touch to enjoying it themselves. None of us have any other family. Not a mother waiting with loving smiles, not a father to throw a ball around and share a bear hug and drink with. We only have each other and the blurred lines I’ve thrown us all over.

Stepping up to the waiting assistant, I’m distracted by the colorful decor, a mural spray painted by a street artist behind the counter. A sweet, sugary scent of ice cream mingles with the faint aroma of freshly baked waffle cones, making my mouth water. We’re worlds away from the heavy tension of the hotel room we were in not even ten minutes ago.

“Cookie dough for my friend here,” Huxley nudges his head my way. “Mint choc chip for me.” He gives me a small grin and I look away. When our cones are ready, we take them to a small table near the window. It’s pitch black outside, our own reflection looking back at us beneath a large neon sign. I take a lick of my ice cream, savoring the creamy flavor. Cookie dough is my favorite.

Huxley stares down at his own ice cream, swallowing thickly and breathing shallowly. I watch him closely, that familiar tension starting to creep back in. Without Avery here to force feed him, he seems to be struggling. I reach over and take the hand which is gripping the table’s edge.

“Thanks for this. I needed a break.”

“I figured,” Huxley replies, his eyes flicking up with a mixture of concern and affection. Slowly, he licks the side of his scoop as if it pains him.

“It’s a good thing Garrett isn’t here. He’d have taken that out of your hand and shown you how to eat it.” Huxley attempts a smile but his sigh is telling. Eventually, once the ice cream has begun to drip onto the table, he turns and drops it into a trash can. I don’t comment, watching his reflection. It seems less direct that way, allowing the silence to settle and Huxley to find the words in his own time.

“I’ve never experienced anything like this before. I know I need to keep up my strength, to be ready for the next time Avery needs me. But I have absolutely no appetite. It’s as if I know I’m going to fail her anyway, so self-sabotage is the only way. It gives me an out, to blame it on not being nourished enough rather than admitting that,” he sucks in a breath and looks at a spot on the floor, “that I’m just not good enough.”

My fingers twitch around his hand. The shock in Hux’s own face tells me he hadn’t come to that conclusion before it tumbled out of his mouth. Withdrawing from my hand, he roughs up his blond hair, a way to hide behind his good looks even though no one else is paying attention to us.

“You think I’m being an idiot,” Hux tenses his jaw. I jerk back, affronted. As if I would be in any position to judge anyone.

“I think we’re used to playing our roles. They’re so ingrained in us, we’re all struggling to break out. Who am I if I’m not Garrett’s shadow? If I’m not the pet who follows him around, begging for scraps of his attention? It’s an adjustment for everyone. You’re so used to being the one we turn to for protection, but you’re not the only one looking out for Avery. All of us are.”

“Maybe that’s the problem,” Huxley’s features harden. “She’s getting what she needs elsewhere.” It dawns on me that I wasn’t invited out merely for a break. Hux needed someone to talk to, and he chose me.

“The only competition happening here is in your head. But I know that’s easier said than heard. Take your time. She isn’t going anywhere.”

Huxley doesn’t look convinced. I finish my cone, wiping my mouth with a napkin. Changing perspective takes time. A few months ago, I thought if I lost Garrett’s attention, I would lose the foundations of who I am. The other Shadowed Souls would always be there, but Garrett is the one who’s coached me through each nightmare, who’s cradled my head while I’ve cried and who’s talked me down when I thought anger was the answer. Healing is a process, and I’m finding I’m stronger than I thought I was.

“Give yourself some grace, Hux. You’ve been through something traumatic,” I gesture towards his collarbone where a circular scar hides beneath his hoodie. “When we go back to Waversea, why don’t we get you booked in with the therapist?”

“And until then?” he asks, his voice hardened. Sure, that’s over two weeks away but as it stands, we don’t know where we’ll be day to day. Huxley’s mansion and Hughes manor are off limits for obvious reasons, and the only other one of us with a childhood home to return to is me, which is a hard no on all fronts. Not while my mom still lives there.

Around us, customers arrive and leave, low chatter filling the parlor. Huxley’s gaze has drifted south, his face fallen as if he might never smile again. I sit a little straighter, the faint chill from the open door keeping me awake.

“You’ve spent years holding us together. Take some time off, let me take the mantle for a while.” I lean back in the chair, looking over my own reflection once more. Did I just offer to keep Avery safe, keep Huxley on track, keep looking for Wyatt and keep Garrett in check? Yeah, I believe I did.

“You’re changing.” Huxley’s comment isn’t an accusation, but a dawning awareness. I give him a slanted smile, feeling my dimple pop. Yeah, I’m changing and amongst the chaos, it feels good. Beneath the table, Huxley’s shoe knocks against mine. It’s the only sign he’s heard me, his gaze distant whilst staring at the napkin dispenser between us.

“Um, excuse me?” a guy says. I twist to see his pinstripe uniform, recognizing him from behind the counter. “This was just handed in. Apparently you dropped it on the sidewalk?” He hands me a small card, seeming just as confused as I am. Glancing at it, my eyes narrow.

“Sorry, where did this come from?” The guy, no more than twenty two with a face full of acne, twists his lips.

“Some dude just brought it in. Said the two in the window had dropped it and I should make sure you got it back. I don’t know,” he shrugs and slinks away. I’m left with my arm outstretched, sensing Huxley’s curiosity beating against my back. Keeping myself turned, I bring the card closer and quickly read the words scribbled on the back of a manilla business card from the hotel we’re staying at.

‘Surprised you’d leave her alone.’

“What is it?” Hux has leaned closer, eager to see over my shoulder. I tuck the card into my palm and turn back, trying to calm the upkick of my pulse. It’s a bluff. Avery isn’t alone. Garrett and Dax are with her. But the message is clear. Someone who knows us is nearby, watching our every move. Just when a sense of normality had settled.

“Hux,” I state with a surprisingly level tone. “Calmly stand up and follow me.” He does just that, his chest bumping my back as we exit the parlor. I try to be vigilant against the darkness of night, but in the street, there are too many places to hide. Too many headlights and signs blinking in my face, the world slipping by in a slur of images I can’t process fast enough. Halfway down the street, I come to my senses and ask Hux for his phone. I left mine back in the room.

“Come on Dax,” I mutter into the receiver, willing him to pick up. The tone rings out and I curse, trying Garrett next. The same happens and I tell myself that’s good news. They’re all still wrapped around Avery, blissfully unaware of the tremors taking over my limbs. Approaching the hotel, a puff of smoke appears just as I turn the corner. I slam straight into Dax, his cigarette dropping to burn a hole into my hoodie sleeve.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” I shout too loudly as true panic sets in. Dax’s eyes widen, his head tucking guiltily.

“I just stepped out for a smoke,” his voice trails after me as I stride across the foyer and jam my finger on the elevator button. Within three seconds, I change my mind and start vaulting up the stairs. “I was right outside. What’s happening?”

Dax chases after me. I hear Huxley in tow, grumbling that it can’t be good. The business card is crumpled in my hand, the edges digging into my palm as I push myself up the stairs, two at a time. My heart is pounding, each beat echoing in my ears louder than the sound of our footsteps. Dax’s questions are a distant buzz, my mind focused solely on reaching Avery and Garrett.

“Explain what’s going on!” Dax demands, his voice strained with growing alarm. Huxley’s heavy breaths follow close behind, urging me to keep moving. Breaching the second floor hallway, I pause long enough to give Dax the business card.

“We’re still being watched,” I manage between breaths. Dax turns the card over in his hand, Huxley getting his first real look. Both of their faces pale. Pushing passed me, Dax rushes down the hallway whilst trepidation slows me down. Dax fumbles with the keycard, his hands trembling until the light blinks green. I wait for his face to light up with relief, for him to look back with an eye roll and curse me out for giving him a false scare. When he doesn’t, I shove my way into the room.

The room is dark, save for the soft glow of the city lights filtering through the curtains. Garrett is sprawled out on the bed, Avery nestled against his side, still deep in sleep. Oh thank fuck.

Relief washes over me, but it’s short-lived. Huxley flicks on the lights, and I notice the window slightly ajar, the curtains fluttering gently with the night breeze. It was definitely closed before I left with Hux, and given that there’s a flat outcrop of roof where we overlook the main lobby, it’s not totally ridiculous to think someone could have been out there.

“Check the bathroom and wardrobe,” I instruct, my voice steady but firm. “Make sure no one else is here.” Dax, Huxley, and I move swiftly, checking closets, under the bed, and eventually the bathroom. There’s no one. But the unease remains, gnawing at my gut. Someone was here, and they wanted us to know.

I return to the bed, kneeling beside Avery. She stirs at my touch, her eyes fluttering open. “Hey,” she murmurs sleepily. “What’s going on?” I brush a strand of hair from her face, forcing a smile.

“Nothing, sweetheart. Just a little scare.” Huxley grunts as if he would have given a different response, but doesn’t speak. Maybe he’s taking this two-week break from being in control seriously. Garrett rouses then, starting to tug at my hoodie. I hold back from his forceful invitation to join them on the bed, triggering his curiosity. He sits up and narrows his eyes.

“What happened?” Huxley hands him the crumpled business card. Garrett’s expression darkens as he reads the message, and Dax nods to his unasked question, his face growing grim. “You think he…he was here?” Garrett narrows his eyes on the open window.

“Undoubtedly, but why? He was right there, so close to-” my throat closes as I look down at Avery. A tiny body lost within a baggy sweatshirt, her blonde hair is pooled across the pillow, her eyes sunken. An angel whose wings are weighed down by misery. I long to free her of those weights and watch her soar. “Why would he get so close and just walk away?”

“Because he’s taunting us,” Huxley huffs loudly. “Because he fucking can.” Swiping his hand out, a vase of flowers flies across the room and shatters against a wall. We all take notice at the same time, eyes widening at the battered yellow roses now littering the carpet. Roses the exact shade of Avery’s hair. Roses that weren’t sitting on the desk when I left it. A symphony of groans echo between us.

“We’re in over our heads,” Dax mutters, looking at each of us in turn. He starts to pace while I remain on my knees, happy to hold Avery’s hand. She blinks over at me with large, blue eyes.

“We can’t ignore this,” Huxley states, dropping into an armchair.

“We need to inform the police,” I add. There’s a few groans at that suggestion, but not from Avery. Her thumb strokes the back of my hand and she nods slightly.

“He’s never going to leave me alone, is he?” She asks. Her voice is so quiet, I believe they were for my ears only. Garrett’s grip tightens around her regardless.

“We won’t let anything happen to you,” I promise. It didn’t exactly answer her question, but I can’t lie to her. I don’t know how or when Fredrick will strike and that uncertainty is tearing me apart from the inside. This taking charge business sucks and I glance up to Huxley. The gravity of stress is weighing on him heavily, his frown bordering on a scowl.

Garrett and Dax exchange a glance, a silent agreement passing between them. “We’ll take shifts,” Garrett suggests. “Make sure someone’s always awake and alert.”

Huxley nods. “Good idea.” The tightness in my chest eases a fraction. Finally , some cooperation. He pushes up from his seat. “I’ll inform the hotel security. We’ll go to the station first thing.” I agree. There’s no use going now - we don’t have a crime to report aside from a bit of writing which we can’t prove was actually from Avery’s stalker and a vase of flowers that were smashed before being inspected.

True to his word, Garrett sets up a watch rotation and double-checks the locks and windows. There’s no use asking Huxley to hire a security detail; we’ve had that fight before. Since the phone lines at Hughes Manor were tapped, resulting in him being shot, Huxley doesn’t trust that anyone is above being bribed or blackmailed. The more people involved, the more certain he is that harm will follow. I sit with Avery, pulling her close and feeling the steady beat of her heart against mine.

“I’m scared,” she admits softly, her voice trembling.

“I know,” I whisper back, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “But we’ll get through this. One day, your biggest worry will be what to have for dinner.”

“I can’t wait for that day,” she exhales loudly, snuggling into me. I hold her tightly, unable to let go. I’ve dived headfirst into the bond Avery has offered me and whereas typically I would be overthinking and freaking out, it’s too easy to become wrapped up in her. I’ll protect her at all costs, happy to have these moments of solace as my reward. To prove a point, Garrett nudges my arm with his head until he can also shimmy up my body. Scratch that, moments wrapped up in the three of them make it all worth it.