Bound by Obsession (Shadowed Souls #2)

49. Chapter Forty Nine

P ausing outside of the door, I exhale and ask myself for the millionth time, what the fuck am I doing? I blame Avery, of course. She caught me off guard last night, and my brain hasn’t been able to switch off since. I slept better than I have in months, her soft curves pressed against my body, my cock nestled against her ass. And with a good sleep brings clarity. We can’t keep going on like we are, constantly looking over our shoulders.

Pushing the door open, a small bell announces my arrival. The smell hits me first. Garlic, tomatoes, and basil hang heavily in the air, almost too rich for my senses. I was surprised by the choice of location when I received the text of where and when to meet, but it’s slowly starting to make sense. This isn’t an ordinary Italian restaurant. It’s a front, being passed off as a quaint, family-run joint, but a dark undercurrent lingers beneath the surface.

The lighting is low, the kind that would make it hard to recognize a face across the room. The place is small, too intimate for comfort, with old wooden chairs that creak when you sit down and mismatched tablecloths that look like they’ve been around since the seventies. Photos of Italian landscapes hang crookedly on the walls, and the whole space feels cramped, like the walls are closing in on me.

Straightening my smart jacket, I make my way toward the back, where Fredrick Walters is seated in a corner booth, his back to the wall. I’ve never seen him before, but given that the rest of those seated are muscled meatheads sporting guns in their waistbands, I made an educated guess.

As it stands, the man is creepy as hell. Thin and pale, with sharp features that look like they were carved out of ice. His hair is slicked back, jet-black and too neat for someone with an unhinged glint in his eyes. He wears a similar black suit to mine, except it’s cheap and scuffed. Not what I’d expect of a person who is acting as if he owns the room.

His blue gaze locks on me, like a predator sizing up its prey. His smile, slow and deliberate, only heightens my nerves. In fact, it makes my skin crawl. There’s a coldness in his eyes, something devoid of humanity. Like he doesn’t just deal in crime; he thrives in it. Lives in it.

Every step holds more weight than the last. My heart pounds in my chest, but I keep my face neutral, unreadable. I can’t let him see how much this freaks me out. If there’s one thing I know about men like Fredrick Walters, men that terrorize little girls, it’s that they feed off fear.

“Wyatt,” Fredrick says smoothly as I reach the table, his voice unsettlingly calm. “You’re right on time.” He gestures to the seat across from him with a flick of his hand. I hesitate for a second. I’m crossing a line I won’t be able to uncross, but then I think about Avery, about everything she’s been through at his hands, and I pull out the chair and sit.

The scent of the food makes my stomach turn, despite its mouthwatering appearance. Pasta dishes are laid out in front of Fredrick, untouched. I wonder if he even eats. Somehow, I doubt it. He’s too much of a snake, too focused on power and control to enjoy anything as simple as a meal.

“Do you have an aversion to Italian food?” he asks, following my gaze. That knowing smirk doesn’t leave his face for a second.

“No. I’m just surprised you’ve chosen to meet somewhere public. Aren’t you a wanted man?” I counter back, feigning ignorance that everyone in here looks like a convict. Fredrick glances up into the far corner, apparently in thought.

“Am I? The police questioned me in relation to some recent reports. Turns out, I had an alibi for all instances,” he smiles a slimy grin that tells me he either planned ahead or had one of the men lingering nearby lie for him. Something they would no doubt do again if he decides I’m not walking out of here alive. I swallow hard, my hands resting on the table to keep them from shaking.

“Why am I here?” I cut to the chase. I don’t plan on staying longer than necessary. Fredrick’s smile widens impossibly more.

“Straight to the point. I like that. But let’s not be so hasty, hmm? We’re both men of business, and business, Wyatt, takes time.” Fredrick’s tongue rolls across his yellow, stained teeth. Being so close to a man who would hurt a young child, an innocent one like Avery no less, makes my skin crawl, but I force myself to sit and endure it. I can’t afford to lose my cool here. Not with my every move being watched by so many.

“What kind of business?” I question. Fredrick leans back and folding his hands in front of him, the picture of relaxed menace.

“We’re the same you and I, Wyatt.”

“I don’t abuse children,” I immediately shoot back. Several men nearby tense but Fredrick doesn’t even falter, waving his hand dismissively. He has no qualms with his past, the personality of a madman.

“You can deny it but I’m not wrong. Excusing the affliction we share for Avery, Catherine Hughes used us both. We were pawns in her life, an existence she never stopped running from. Do you reckon she’s watching down on this union?” He lifts his glass into the air, gesturing at the ceiling. That’s when I know he’s officially lost it, and I’m certainly not bonding with a man I loathe.

“You had a proposition for me. Let’s get on with it,” I press, eager to be out of my seat. Fredrick leans in slightly and I catch the faintest whiff of cologne. Sharp and metallic, like gunpowder mixed with aftershave.

“Strange,” Fredrick murmurs and sits back, assessing me both closely and from afar. I straighten my shoulders, not cowering as this lowlife grins. “Nature or nurture indeed.”

“Are you going to make any sense?” I can’t suppress a sigh.

“Hmmm? Oh, bad habits I’m afraid. Ten years in a prison cell will do that to you.” He tips his glass as if I’m supposed to cheers the notion that hurting Avery put him behind bars. I don’t move, yet he smiles. Always damn smiling, like he has so much to be happy about. “I was merely commenting on the fact that you didn’t know Ray, yet you’re so much like him.”

Cold dread rushes over me as if someone has tipped a bucket of ice over my head. What does Fredrick know of the Perelli’s? And Rachel. Oh god, if he approaches Rachel- “You should really try the wine, Wyatt. You’ve gone white as a sheet.” His mocking laughter travels but I make no attempt to take my glass. For all I know, it’s laced with poison.

“You knew Ray?” I ask through a clenched jaw. I notice the same moment Fredrick does that I’ve taken his bait. Hook, line and fucking sinker. His blue eyes twinkle with glee.

“Not personally. Do you know, it’s marvelous how much clarity one can gain from simply sitting back? All that chasing and tracking, exhausting honestly. It’s been much more fun watching Nixon squirm, constantly looking over his shoulder. Do you know he moves hotels every other day? Equally as exhausting to watch, but I enjoy his efforts.”

Fredrick lifts his fork to pick at a piece of pasta, popping it into his mouth and chewing carefully. Thoughtfully. I grip the edges of my seat, not leaning into the game he’s encouraging me to play. I won’t ask for more answers, and the cunning side of him can’t resist telling me anyway.

“I located Ray Perelli first, before any of this started. I knew you weren’t mine, it’s intrinsic you know. I thought tracing your origins would bring me clarity, a straight child swap perhaps. But Nixon, despite his many flaws, is too calculated for that,” Fredrick sighs.

“He didn’t tell anyone where he hid my second child, not even his wife at first. I know this because the housekeeper kindly offered up Cathy’s journal to me after I took the liberty of removing a few of her fingers. I tore out the pages which were of interest, holding onto them for twenty years until I delivered them to your frat house for Avery’s perusal. I thought it was time she learnt the truth of her origins.” He grins viciously.

One more piece of pasta goes into his mouth, not a shadow of regret for maiming an innocent woman. If the odds weren’t stacked against me, I’d launch across the table and stab him with his own fork. Maybe that’s what it means to be Ray’s son. Except for now, I’m forced to sit and endure this rambling monologue, coming to the realization that Fredrick is years ahead of us, having overseen the entire picture while we’ve scrambled for snippets.

I need to bring this to an end, just being in close proximity to him is toying with my boundaries. I don’t want to be a man filled with hatred, harnessing rage to hurt those around me and keep them at a distance. But I’d hurt Fredrick Walters without a second thought and not care about the mark on my soul for it.

“What do you want from me?” I clench my jaw, feeling the tick beat there. Fredrick’s eyes lift and widen, as if he’d forgotten I was there. All of his focus was directed at his pasta.

“Now that is a smart question,” he exhales loudly. “Like I said, truly exhausting keeping tabs on you all. I made some worthy connections during my incarceration, but they have their own thirsts too. I can only keep a handle on them for so long before something slips through the cracks,” Fredrick gives a few of his men a pointed look. It darkens his eyes, pressing on until the smile slowly vanishes from his face.

“Take Cathy’s tragic demise for example. I’d asked for a small scare, is all. When I received the news that she’d died-” Fredrick lifts his glass by the top. He glares at it, the wine inside offending him. I watch his knuckles turn white, his arm beginning to tremble until the glass shatters, thick shards spearing his palm. He doesn’t even flinch.

“Let’s just say, the culprit paid in kind. Cathy was all I wanted. She’s all I ever wanted.” It’s like watching a thriller movie, the scene before me unfolding and leaving me as merely a viewer. Without the crazed smile, Fredrick’s entire face has changed. I don’t know what’s more unsettling, his far-off daze or his sneer and twitching eye.

A waitress appears out of the back, a young girl in a simple uniform who’s stick thin with purple circles around her eyes. I can’t tell if they’re from lack of sleep or being punched. My stomach flips as she approaches, quietly attending to Fredrick’s hand like it’s the norm. Picking out large, bloodied shards, she pats his hand with a cloth and tucks it back into her front pocket. I trace her footsteps, see the deadened look in her eyes and have to physically pin myself to my seat. She’s not my problem, not who I’m here to save.

“Look,” I straighten my shoulders in my jacket. “I don’t give a shit about any of that. I don’t care for your explanations, you’ll always be a piece of shit in my eyes, but you’ve asked me here for a reason. Tell me or I’m gone.” The smile spreads across Fredrick’s face and I’ve made my choice. It is decidedly more horrifying. Fredrick flicks his injured hand out, spraying blood across his pasta.

“But that’s exactly what I’ve been saying! The men keeping tabs for me are becoming restless, I can’t hold them back much longer. If I don’t pull them back soon, they’ll take what they want and believe me when I say,” Fredrick chases the eye of one of his goons watching our interaction from a few tables away, and leans closer to whisper. “We’re not the only ones who see Avery’s appeal.”

My eyes harden. “If anyone of you touches a single hair on her head-”

“So it’s time I ended this,” Fredrick talks over me. “I’m going to call off this whole charade, leave you all alone. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” One of my brows dips while I try to anticipate his angle.

“You’re stopping? It’s over, just like that?” I ask, not believing it for a single second.

“Well,” Fredrick grins wide, putting all of Garrett’s smiles to shame. The malicious intent pouring from that tight pull of his lips will haunt me for a while to come. “Not empty handed, of course. I’ve come too far to walk away with nothing to show for it.” My foot taps with impatience as he stalls, pushing me to the edge of my curiosity before continuing. Setting his eyes squarely on mine, Fredrick leers across the table.

“Give me the identity of my other child, and I’ll leave Avery alone. Scout’s honor.” He uses a finger dripping with blood to draw a cross over his heart. The man was clearly never a scout. I fold my arms and sit back in my chair.

“What, so you can take your aggression out on someone else because your affair went tits up?”

“All I ever wanted was Cathy,” Fredrick repeats in a lower voice, the rattling sound grating my ears. “She ruined my life by letting me fall in love with her. She promised me the world, but it was all a lie. Pregnant or not, she was never going to leave her superior life behind. She lied to me.” That eye twitch is back, Fredrick’s teeth grinding together. “I deserve something.” I let my head roll on my shoulders, no longer filled with trepidation. He’s revealed his cards, now it’s time for me to play mine.

“You had something. You had Avery and guess what,” I tense up, bulging my arms further against the cotton of my shirt, “you fucked it up.” Fredrick nods, wiping his hand over his jaw and leaving a blood stain there.

“I’ve had ten years staring at the same four stone walls to reflect on my actions. I don’t need you to explain what I already know, but it will be different this time. I’ve reformed.”

“You’re deluded,” I bark a laugh. The goons all around stiffen and inch forward. I should probably worry more about getting out of here safely, but I haven’t cared about my own mortality for a while now. I’m on a downward spiral, destined to take everyone I care about down with me. Perhaps I can still have a purpose after all. “Take me instead.” Fredrick’s gaze, which had been investigating his hand, slowly rises to me, his curiosity piqued.

“You?” He licks his lips. I nod.

“Like you said, we’ve got a lot in common. Cathy chose me to be Avery’s replacement. It’s all I’ve ever been. Why change the record now?” Fredrick smiles, then laughs and his goons take the cue to join in. Their mockery beats against me, echoing through the chasm in my chest that screams I’ve never been good enough. Not even now in the eyes of a psychopath. “Fine. Forget it. I’m not giving you shit,” I push back from the table, the need to get out of there overwhelming.

Fredrick’s face snaps into a serious expression and the laughter dies instantly. “I don’t mean to insult you, Wyatt, but taking you wouldn’t affect Nixon. I doubt he’d even notice.” I inhale deeply, hating how well Fredrick knows our family dynamic. Or lack of. “I know you don’t believe me, but I really have reformed. I lost my mind when Cathy left me and spent the next ten years taking every drug I could get my hands on. It’s not an excuse and Avery paid that price. I regret it, and I have a chance to do it again. To be better.”

“Whilst hurting Nixon in the process,” I add. Fredrick chuckles to himself, tilting his head side to side.

“It’s an added bonus.”

I jut out my chin, nostrils flaring. “I thought you kept tabs on us. Surely you’ve figured out who she is by now.” I catch my mistake too late, revealing that I do in fact know who Avery’s twin is. Fredrick rises himself to stand, marking the white tablecloth with red handprints in the process.

“I don’t have the resources you do. I spent what little I had, resorting in paying these men in promises and threats. Once I have what I want, they’re going to publicly rip Nixon limb from limb. But if I make them wait much longer, they’re growing to storm your little frat house and take Avery for themselves. The choice really is yours.”

I stall, thrown into this stand-off of wills. Fredrick is a patient man, he’s waited over ten years for this. Long enough to twist his story into a narrative where he isn’t the bad guy. He truly believes Cathy did this to him, that he played no part in Avery’s suffering. Striding around to my side of the table, Fredrick places his bloodied hand onto my shoulder, not a hint of pain in his smirking expression.

“I’m growing old, Wyatt. I just want the chance at retribution, so I can do it right. I just want what’s owed to me.”

“Money or revenge?” I ask, wanting nothing more than to shove him out of my space. The blood seeping into my jacket will be a bitch to dry clean.

“To be a real dad. Free from the bullshit Cathy put me through. Give me the name.” I don’t buy it, so I keep my jaw clamped shut. He only steps closer, the rank stench of his breath washing over my face. “Make this easy on all of us. I’m going to find out eventually.” Fredrick’s eye starts to twitch again, his crazed and deranged sides merging. He straightens my tie, taking every opportunity to get directly into my personal space. “Please save Avery from any more suffering. Give me the name.”

The laughter that wants to brew doesn’t come out. He’s pleading with me to save Avery when he’s the one who’s always causing her to be in danger.

Instead, I just stand there, ignoring the cold sweat dripping down my back. I could call Fredrick’s bluff and potentially put Avery at the mercy of the men sitting behind me. A dozen of them easily, more than my brothers and I could take on. These aren’t small-minded jocks. These are practiced gun men, most likely rapists too. Or I force Meg to face a horror she can’t outrun. Either way, I have to risk one of their lives and neither will forgive me for it.

It’s up to me. It’s my decision, and I choose Avery.