Bound by Obsession (Shadowed Souls #2)

11. Chapter Eleven

R outine comes easy at the Perelli’s. I wake to Rachel handing me breakfast in bed, and follow her around like a lost puppy for the rest of the day. She has a specific way of doing things, from the way she folds fitted sheets to ticking off the extensive planner on the kitchen wall. One that’s filled with medical visits for Ray and abbreviations I don’t understand.

I spend most days in the background, trying to make myself useful but knowing there’s only so much I can do. Ray’s condition hangs over the house like a dark cloud, a constant reminder that time is slipping away. Time I never had. Rachel handles it all with a calm efficiency, unaware of how her strength draws out my weakness. She’s the rock I’m forced to lean on, but I see the strain in the lines around her eyes, the way her hands tremble when she thinks no one is looking.

Aside from attending to basic chores and fixing things that are in my wheelhouse, I’ve taken to sitting with Ray. We haven’t spoken much more about Nixon. I can see the toll it has on him to voice his hatred and I don’t push him. Instead, we settle into a comfortable silence, the kind that comes from mutual respect and understanding.

Sometimes, when the pain isn’t too bad, he’ll tell me stories about his younger days, about the deals he made and the enemies he outsmarted. His voice is weaker now, but there’s still a fire in his eyes when he talks about the past, a flicker of the man he used to be. I soak it all in, desperate to know everything.

But those moments are becoming rarer. Most of the time, Ray just stares out the window, lost in his own thoughts. He can barely manage to lift his cigar to his lips and puff anymore, but I’ve walked in on the nurse doing it for him a few times. I suppose it’s not like he’s going to get any better.

Charlton’s visits are the worst. They remind me of the finality of everything, the fact that no matter how much we try to pretend otherwise, Ray isn’t going to be around much longer. The lawyer is always polite, professional, but there’s a coldness to him that sets me on edge. I don’t know what he and Ray talk about behind those closed doors, but I can guess it’s about wrapping up loose ends, making sure everything is in order for when the inevitable happens.

Every day that passes, Rachel seems more distant, more focused on her planner and the never-ending list of things that need to be done. I try to draw her outside, suggest we go for a walk, but she always declines. “There’s too much to do,” she says, and I don’t argue. We’re all just going through the motions, waiting for the moment when everything changes.

And then, one morning, the routine shatters. It’s a quiet day, the kind where the world feels like it’s holding its breath. I’m in the kitchen, half-listening to the soft ticking of the clock, when I hear Rachel’s voice, sharp and panicked. My heart stutters in my chest, and I drop what I’m doing, rushing towards Ray’s room.

The nurse, who’s been at the mansion all of five minutes, is fiddling with tubes and the monitor screen. She’s pale as she whispers the words that hit me like a freight train. “You’d best say your goodbyes.”

Rachel, for all her strength, seems to be running on autopilot. Her movements are mechanical whilst taking Ray’s hand and holding it to her chest, her smile not reaching her eyes. I want to touch her shoulder, tell her I’m going to help her through this, but the words stick in my throat. Instead, I just stand there.

“My boy,” Ray murmurs. I glance up and frown when I see he’s not talking to me. His free hand is shakily waving at nothing in the corner. At my confusion, the nurse slips around the bed.

“It’s the last stage when the delirium hits. He won’t be with us much longer.” I thank her quietly, swallowing past the lump in my throat.

When my mom- no, when Cathy - was killed and I received that phone call, I went into a numb state of shock. I thought once the shock had passed, an abundance of emotions would hit me. But they never did. I remained numb, my grief hidden behind a wall of denial. It was too easy to pretend she was still at Hughes’ Manor fawning over Avery. That her weekly call would come in at any moment and she’d nag my ear off about maintaining my grades and not getting swept up with parties or girls.

There’s no pretending here. I can’t ignore or suppress the regret swirling within. It’s one of the few times I haven’t been trapped within my anger, and it fucking hurts like hell. Ray calls out to me again so I swap sides, taking the hand he was waving around.

“Hey, I’m here,” I try to smile and fail. Ray smiles though, his glassy green eyes not meeting mine but wandering over my head somewhere.

“Ahh, Wyatt. My boy. My son,” he babbles. I catch myself on a sob, using every fiber of my strength to not twist my face away. There’s no running from it this time. I need to acknowledge what’s happening. “Remember the lake? Our fishing boat is ready. I bet we’ll catch a big one today.” I squeeze Ray’s hand tighter, the first hint of wetness dropping onto my cheek.

“We’ll catch the biggest fish,” I manage to say somewhat evenly. Despite sighing contentedly, Ray’s smile slips. His head lolls and with more clarity than I thought he is capable of, he looks at Rachel. His loving and devoted wife. She doesn’t offer any words, allowing the silence to be filled with her admiration for him. Small circles of her thumb stroke the back of his hand, a serene look on her pretty face. She’s already made her peace with this, and I know Ray is only holding on for me to do the same.

Leaning down, I put my mouth beside Ray’s ear. “It’s okay, I’ll look after her. I’m here now.”

“Such a good boy,” I hear faintly whispered back just as the heart monitor blares. One continuous noise ringing in my ears which might as well be a knife to the heart. I forget who’s just died here, a crashing weight slamming down on top of me. I remain like that, hunched over and gasping for air until the nurse gently pries my hand off Ray’s. I flinch and notice that crushing weight wasn’t a figment of my imagination, but Rachel squeezing me tightly. I twist as best I can, drawing her into my arms.

As I hold Rachel, her body shakes against mine, but she doesn’t cry. Her breaths are shallow, and I feel her fingers digging into my back, like she’s trying to anchor herself to something solid, something real.

The nurse moves quietly around us, shutting off the machines, her face a mask of practiced compassion. I catch a glimpse of Ray’s lifeless form on the bed, his features softened, almost peaceful in the stillness of death. A man who was a fleeting presence in my life, but has shown me more love than the bastard who raised me. The ache cracking open inside of me is akin to a void, swallowing every trace of guilt, anger, and regret I’m clinging onto. I know what’s coming before that familiar numbness spreads, consuming my soul in its wake. It takes conscious effort to not take the easy road out and fully desensitize myself, for Rachel’s sake. I have to keep my promise and take care of her, starting with calling Charlton. He’ll need to handle Ray’s assets and make sure Rachel is secure.

But for now, we stand in the quiet room, the world holding its breath once more, and just cling on to each other.