Bound by Obsession (Shadowed Souls #2)

37. Chapter Thirty Seven

I t took longer for Garrett to say goodbye to each element of the safe house than it did for all of us to pack. Goodbye bed, goodbye Christmas Tree, goodbye refrigerator. The sea was the worst one, as Axel had to drag him away weeping and promising to return one day. Garrett can always be trusted for his melodramatics, but also for being easily distracted. Given that there is one more person to seat ratio, a giggly blonde in his lap was enough to get him down the driveway without looking back.

Rolling my tongue between my teeth, I hang my arm out of the driver’s side window. My other hand grips the wheel, smoothly gliding Huxley’s SUV between lanes with the man himself tensed in the passenger seat. There was no way I could sit for hours on end, listening to the bland chitchat in the backseat without a distraction.

Since Avery made the decision to leave on our behalf, we took no arguments in the logistical planning of heading home. Home. I roll that word around in my mind, buffered by the sweeping wind hitting the side of my face and hair. The Waversea frat house used to be the one place I’d ever felt accepted. Seen , if only for the rich fuckboy facade I put on. Now that word holds a very different meaning, with Rachel patiently waiting for me. As we turn into the hangar where Huxley’s jet is waiting, I switch off the engine and manage to sneak off and find five minutes to call her. The phone rings twice before she picks up.

“Hello?”

“Rachel, it’s me. Wyatt.” My voice cracks on her name, my sneaker rolling over a small rock behind the hangar.

“Oh, Wyatt ,” she gasps. Relief floods her voice. “ I’ve been so worried. Are you well? Are you eating?”

I choke on a lump locking in my throat. Fuck, just hearing her voice, hearing how much she cares, is enough to buckle my knees.

“I’m okay,” I say shakily, barely convincing myself. I clear my throat and try again. “Yes, I’ve been eating. I…” My cheeks heat from the confession working its way out of my mouth. “I went a little hard on those…vitamins…you gave me. My brothers storm-rolled in and stopped me before it went too far.”

There’s a beat of silence on the other end, and I hear her breath hitch like she’s about to cry. My gut twists painfully. She’s not supposed to cry. I’m the one who screws up. I’m the one who deserves to feel like this. But her voice is trembling now.

“Oh dear. I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.”

Throwing one fist backwards into the hangar’s exterior, I look up to force my own tears back. I hate that I’m causing her more suffering after everything she’s already been through. It doesn’t matter that she gave me drugs under false pretenses. She was doing her best to guide me through twenty one years of trauma in a matter of weeks. But it didn’t work. I’m still broken, and all I’ve done is hurt her more.

“It’s not your fault,” I murmur, blinking back the tears as one of Huxley’s staff appears, signaling we’re almost ready to take off. I shoo him away with my hand. They can wait. I can’t step foot on that plane until I know Rachel is okay. “You were just… trying.” Trying to love me the only way she knew how. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less—for either of us.

“I just wanted to give you a way to escape. I…I need to escape sometimes.”

“I know that. You’re not to blame. In fact, I have so much respect for you. You’ve been so strong for so long. I can’t wait to come back.”

“Does that mean you’re coming home?” She gasps, so full of hope that I’m about to crush into dust. Why do I always have to be the asshole? Why can’t I seem to just…be?

I swallow hard. There’s that word once again. Home. A tugging pulls at my chest, a physical draw back to her. I know Rachel would love me like no other, that she’ll never let anything come between us again. But something holds me back.

“Not yet,” I push my fist against my mouth. “I have something I need to do. It shouldn’t take long.”

“Is this about the girl?” Rachel asks bluntly, twisting my gut into a knot. I forget that I’m the only one late to this party. Rachel has known the truth all along, and she’s been forced to live with it.

“Yeah, it’s about her.” I nod to myself. It’s always about Avery. Every damn aspect of life has always revolved around her, even before I knew she existed. Inhaling, I close my eyes and let the dam crack open for a moment, spilling the words I’ve never dared to speak aloud before. “She’s been tossed around in this mess as much as me. Call it my redemption, but I need to see this through.”

“I understand.” A quiet sigh sounds on the other end of the line. “But remember, Wyatt, you haven’t done anything that’s worth a redemption. If Nixon can’t see that you are owed the world, then I will happily get it to you.”

A frown pitches my brows at the sudden steel quality to Rachel’s voice. Was that a loving threat or a dangerous promise? I have to remind myself that she’s not only the shy, quiet housewife but the gangster’s wife who will do anything to protect her only son. Unfortunately, I’m long past the point of letting people protect me. I’ve been through too much not to see this through for myself.

“Rachel. Thank you for caring, but let me handle it. I know what I’m doing,” I lie. I haven’t got a fucking clue, but I’ll figure it out. Eventually. An understanding sigh travels into my ear.

“I’m not without my uses, Wyatt. I have my own set of connections and resources. If there’s anything you need, promise me you’ll call straight away.”

“I will. Thank you.” The uniformed employee appears around the corner to beckon me again, the sound of the jet roaring to life behind. I’m out of time. “I have to go, I love you.” I call into the phone, pressing the device against my ear to barely make out her answer.

“I love you too, my boy.”

Choking on my own sob, I lower the phone, every vein in my forearm popping into full effect. My knuckles are white while I stall long enough to level my breathing. I’ve always had a singular objective. One destination in mind, and it was as far from Hughes’ Manor as possible. For the first time, I’m torn between where I long to go and need to be.

A dark shadow lingers over my shadow. The drugs may have painstakingly ebbed their way out of my system over this past week, but Ray refuses to vanish. I won’t let him. I imagine his presence, powerful and imposing. It fills me with the same notion.

Rolling my neck, I stride around the hangar to see that same employee standing within earshot. Has he been there the entire time, listening into my conversation? The thought that Rachel wasn’t the only one to hear my vulnerability hits me like a wrecking ball to the chest, throwing my guard back up in full effect.

He straightens upon seeing me, eyes wide as if he’s been caught out. Fuck yeah, he has. Ray leans into me, pressing the weight of his suspicion into me. I force the man to look me in the eyes, daring him to reveal his secrets.

“Who the fuck do you really work for?” I glare, stepping into his space. He’s a few inches shorter than me, a man of around thirty. His blue eyes flicker to the family crest embroidered into his jacket, feigning confusion. I grip his lapels and slam him into the white metal at his back. “You like listening to phone calls, do you?” My voice is raised over the roar of the jet, my impatience quickly wearing thin. After the emotional backlash Rachel has unknowingly dealt, I have nothing else to fall back on but rage.

The fool shrinking away from me is muttering words I can’t hear. Lies, I’m sure. Yanking him closer and throwing him back into the metal again, I get right into his face.

“You don’t repeat my conversation with anyone, you understand? Nothing I say is of your concern.” He’s nodding so fast, his blond hair falls from its neat slick-back. Whoever he is, he’s pathetic. I toss him aside, and Ray prims with pride. He’d want me to be strong, to be the sort of man Rachel needs. By the time I make it back to her, I’ll be fit to bear the Perelli name.

The employee, who clearly has a death wish, jumps back into his job role instantly. Attempting to usher me towards the jet, his hand brushes my back and I don’t even consider my reaction. Red coats my vision as my arm snaps back and plummets forward, my fist connecting with his jaw. He hit the floor this time, dirt marring his jacket and slacks. Without a second thought, I push my hands into my pockets and stride towards the jet. No one dares to rush to his aid until I’ve ascended the stairs, and no one tries to rush me again.

Once inside, five sets of eyes hit me like daggers. Huxley is on the right side by the window, the one with the best view of just what happened. I keep my face relaxed, dropping into the seat furthest away from the rest and instantly reaching for an eye mask. My intent is clear - leave me alone, go back to giggling and fucking around with each other.

Darkness settles over my mind, keeping me company for the remainder of the journey back to Waversea. I manage to go the entire day with only a series of grunts and shrugs, keeping up the pretense that I’m the monster they should fear. That I no longer exist in their world.

Stepping into my old bedroom, my resolve shatters. Everything has been left exactly as it was the night I stormed out. A path of destruction carves its way from one side of the room to the other. A visual portrait of confusion and hatred. Those emotions flood back now, as if they’ve been lingering beneath my broken bed and waiting for me.

However, there’s clarity.

The man who caused this mess couldn’t see a future worth living. He didn’t know he had a family who would never give up on him, and I don’t mean the Perelli’s. The Shadowed Souls. The men who have fought their own battles and day after day, continue to tolerate me through mine. Love is a powerful thing. It’s enough to replace the emptiness I’ve been clinging to. The validation I’ve been seeking from those who were never going to give it willingly.

They could have tidied the clutter, replaced the broken furniture, and figuratively swept the evidence beneath the rug. They could have sat around waiting for me to return and pretend that everything was normal. But doing that was never going to help. I need to tidy this mess for myself. I need to take responsibility for the damage I cause, and I know exactly where to start.