Bound by Obsession (Shadowed Souls #2)

16. Chapter Sixteen

E lation is the last thing on my mind. I want to be happy, to hug my best friend tight and not let go. But her being here only brings more confusion. As soon as she ran up to me, with her windswept ponytail, tight fitting leggings and skin damp with sweat, I knew something wasn’t right. She didn’t just get here like the rest of us.

“Is he still in the water?” Meg asks from her perch on the bed. I don’t move a muscle, still standing in front of the large bay window, arms crossed and face tense. Although, my eyes refocus, searching for a bobbing head of dark hair in the sea beyond.

“No,” I answer stoically. Garrett must have left sometime between my dark thoughts taking over and the numbness creeping up my legs, pinning me in place.

The waves break steadily, pushing the crystal blue water to roll onto a blanket of sand. I wish I could have shared Garrett’s excitement and ran straight in with him. Instead, once again, I’m left feeling like I’m an outsider to my own life. The punchline of a private joke. When I came up here to seek solace in the tide, I only found a striking resemblance with the murky depths and unknown monsters lurking within.

Meg sighs heavily, shifting and approaching me cautiously as if I might jolt and make a run of it. “Aves, I’m just as clueless as you are right now.”

“Are you?” I raise a brow, taking her in suspiciously with a side glance. My best friend. The girl who has been by my side every chance she could. She knows everything about me, so why am I suddenly worried I’m looking into the blue eyes of a stranger. Meg recoils in surprise, anger flashing in her delicate features.

“Are you being serious right now?!” She takes a step back from me, the distance between us seeming much more vast than a few inches.

“Yeah, I am. You were supposed to be at college, wrapping up loose ends for the holidays. Patting your team members on the back and having festive drinks with the swimmers. I needed you! I’ve left so many voicemails,” my voice rises, accusations tumbling free. “But instead, you’ve been hiding in Nixon’s safe house the whole time. I just don’t get it.”

“Now rewind for a second,” Meg tugs my arm to spin me roughly. There’s a subtle shift of feet in the hallway, the ghost of sneakers underneath the door jamb. I know instinctively Dax is lingering for my emotional support, trying to gauge when and if I might need him. Meg, however, is visibly annoyed by his eavesdropping and lowers her voice.

“I didn’t even know this was Nixon’s place until you told me. I’ve been stuck here with no cell reception and no idea of when I can go home. Apparently, I’m in this mess just as much as you.” Meg’s words sting, despite not holding as much bitterness as they could have. Sighing and looking towards the window, the ghost of a tear trickles down Meg’s cheek.

All following arguments leave me with a heavy fall of my shoulders. Sensing and seeing my deflation, Meg wraps her arms around my waist.

“I think I should be the one comforting you right now,” I frown, but lean into her anyway. Meg laughs, lacking all traces of humor.

“Let’s press pause. I’m just glad I’m not alone anymore.”

“Oh fuck, Meg.” Grabbing my best friend, I tug her to me tightly. “I’m sorry. I’ve been so selfish. You’ve been stuck here while I’ve had…well, the guys. Now I’m giving you a hard time about it.”

“It’s okay,” Meg tries to reassure me. Epic fail. Pulling back, I raise an all-knowing brow. Shaking me off, Meg plants herself on my side, our arms crossing around each other’s backs. “Nixon has a lot to answer for.”

“I’m starting to think the same,” I scoff. I may be the last passenger to board the ‘Nixon Speculation train’, but that’s only because I so wanted to believe he had no ties to this mess. I’ve been delaying pulling the thread that leads back to my mom’s death or my traumatic childhood. I don’t want to think Nixon has been aware, possibly involved, and the last truth I’m refusing to face is that my mom should have told me all of this herself. Now it’s too late.

We stand together, lost in our thoughts and wishing the tide would wash away our problems. Dark, ominous clouds are creeping forward, bringing the promise of rain. That same shuffle sounds in the hallway and Meg’s head tilts to the side.

“Let him in. I’m going to shower anyway.” I watch Meg stride into the attached bathroom, just barely keeping the stomp from her steps. Regret clenches around my heart.

As soon as the sound of the shower hits my ears, I call out for Dax. He’s by my side in an instant, strong arms lifting and carrying me to a small armchair in the corner, still facing the window. Seating himself first, Dax waits for me to curl up like a tiny creature on his lap before exhaling and stroking my hair. We slot into place, as if we’ve synced back into each other.

“Are you okay?” His chest rumbles beneath me. I give a small shake of my head.

“I was a complete bitch.”

“She’ll forgive you. We all need some clarity.” I don’t want to let the sadness subside so easily. It’s not fair that I have Dax, that I have all of them, and Meg doesn’t. In any other instance, she would wave off my concern and tell me I deserve the way they make me feel all warm and gooey inside. That it’s my time.

Twisting further into Dax’s body, my face finds the curve of his neck just in time for the first of my tears to splash against his collar bone. He holds me gently, soothing my back, careful not to touch the place where he knows my linear scar is. Every so often, his lips press against my head.

The rain begins to fall, soft at first, then steadily increasing in tempo until it’s a full-on downpour. The sound of water hitting the windowpane seems to echo the steady rhythm of Dax’s heartbeat beneath my ear. I let the warmth of his embrace anchor me as the storm outside mirrors the one brewing in my heart. Why can’t it be simple, this being happy thing? Why do I always seem to lose as much as I gain?

“I’ve got you, Little Swan,” Dax says after a while. I lift my head, taking in his icy blue eyes.

“I know,” I nod. The warmth radiating from Dax blooms through my entire body, from head to toes, a furnace coming to life. We stare silently. Dax parts his lips to say something, and he quickly bites down on his cheek and closes his mouth again. I feel like I know what it is. I can feel it, taste it. Those three tiny words are so obvious in his glimmering eyes, I can practically hear them being roared in my ears.

“Say it.” I beg quietly. I need to hear it, grasp onto it. The tremble in my voice is at odds with the tightening grip of my fists in his T-shirt. “Please.”

“As if you don’t already know,” a small smile breaks across Dax’s face. He’s so handsome and utterly unique, his mocha skin and blond afro. Winding my arms around his neck, I drag him the rest of the way to meet my lips.

Dax’s breath hitches as our mouths meet, his warmth sending a shiver down my spine. His kiss is gentle at first, exploring. A tender touch that belies the unspoken intensity simmering beneath the surface. A slight wobble of Dax’s lip, a tiny squeeze of the hand at my waist. He’s savoring every second. My arms unwind from his neck for my hands to cradle his jaw, my thumbs brushing the rough stubble that Dax has procured over the past few days. It’s endearing when he’s not perfectly put together, when he lets his carefully-constructed walls falter. When he lets me seep further in.

The kiss deepens, and Dax’s hold on me tightens as if he’s afraid I might slip away. There’s something both tender and desperate in the way he kisses me, as though he’s pouring the words I want to hear into the press of his lips. My fingers weave into his soft, blond curls, and he groans softly into my mouth, the sound vibrating through me and igniting a fire in my core.

When we pull back, we’re both breathless, our foreheads resting against each other. Dax’s eyes search mine, his icy blue gaze now molten with emotion. To emphasize the words I know are coming, his hands glide beneath my shirt to rest on the circular scar littering my ribs. For once, maybe for the first time ever, I don’t flinch. I’m not triggered by the pain they symbolize, by the past which can no longer hurt me. My scars may have molded me, but it’s Dax who has helped me heal.

“I love you Avery,” he whispers, the words finally escaping, so soft I almost miss them. But they’re there, hanging between us like a lifeline, and my heart swells with a fierce sense of joy.

“I love you too Dax,” I reply, my voice breaking with the sheer force of the truth. It’s like a dam has burst, releasing everything I’ve been holding back.

Dax’s smile is slow, warm, and it melts the last of my doubts. He leans in, capturing my lips again, this time with a passion that speaks of all the promises we’ve yet to fulfill. And as we kiss, I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I’m exactly where I’m meant to be, in the arms of one of the men who will never let me fall. My suffering hasn’t been senseless after all. It’s led me here.