Bound by Obsession (Shadowed Souls #2)

51. Chapter Fifty One

I come to, my head lulling forward on something cushioned. Someone is fussing around me, gently stroking the hair back from my face. Wyatt has shed his hoodie and covered me with it, my body still on the floor but with his pillow beneath my face. It takes a few attempts to push myself up to lean back on the wall and accept the glass of water Wyatt holds to my lips. I drink, despite the slices of pain lacing my throat. I vaguely wonder if I’ve been screaming.

Taking the glass away, Wyatt slumps against the wall too, exhaling loudly. He’s exhausted, and luckily for him, I don’t have the energy to start yelling at him again just yet. The offensive letter has slipped to the floor and slid beneath his desk. I can’t stand to look at it, the weight of what it means causing the bile to resurface.

“It’s been you this entire time,” I say numbly. Wyatt doesn’t move. Somewhere between the utter betrayal and unfathomable knowledge that my twin might be in danger, a small bout of harsh laughter stirs within. “All these years, all the times I clung onto those letters. You truly are a callous bastard, Wyatt. This is by far your best trick yet.”

“You think I’d spend so long and put so much effort into a trick?” Wyatt asks hollowly, his body tense beside mine. It wouldn’t take more than a twitch to close the gap between our arms, so I shuffle the opposite way.

“You locked me in a cupboard covered in whiskey. What else am I supposed to think?” I glare at him, still not trusting my limbs enough to attempt punching him in the face. Sunken, haunted green eyes slowly ascend to mine, a look of pure misery dragging his mouth into a frown. He’s really planning on keeping up this charade. “So, what? You’re, like, in love with me or something?”

Wyatt reels back, his face suddenly contorted.

“In love with you?” he echoes back like the idea alone tastes bitter in his mouth. There he is. That venomous tone has returned, that barrier Wyatt hides behind resurrected with steel. Reaching out, Wyatt grips my T-shirt in his fist. I welcome the cruel tug of the fabric with my chin raised.

“Love is a word for fluttery feelings and sweet gestures. It’s for warmth and intimacy. I’m not in love with you, Avery.”

He suddenly lunges at me and I shriek, crashing to the floor. Wyatt mounts me, knocking aside my arms in my feeble attempts to smack him. I close my eyes, resigning to a blow that doesn’t come. Instead, he grabs my face in his large, warm hands, bending so I can feel the heat of his breath.

“I’m fucking obsessed with you. It’s harsh and bitter, this need to have you completely at my mercy.” His eyes are blown, wilder than I’ve ever seen. I tremble as Wyatt’s gaze lowers to my lips, his soul bared for me to witness. “I can’t love you, because that would involve doing something noble like setting you free. No. I want to possess you, control you until you can’t breathe without me. If I had my way, I’d bend and break you until you’re as hollow as I am. Until I can finally believe I’m worthy of even a piece of you.”

All thoughts and words fail me. I stare up at him, panting and strained. It’s easier to believe it’s all lies, I can protect myself better that way. But there’s no denying the truth laid bare in Wyatt’s expression. It’s as breathtaking as it is horrifying. He leans closer, the tension coiled beneath his muscles barely restrained.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to look at you every day, for my heart to try and carve itself free of my chest just to get closer to you? Every goddamn day I watch you from a distance, denying this hideous desire inside of me that wants to destroy your happiness because your smiles aren’t meant for me.” Wyatt’s jaw clenches, his grip tightening just enough to make my skin burn where his hands press.

I shouldn’t buy into this fantasy. The fall out will be worse, but I can’t stop the words from leaving my mouth.

“Why did you have to deny it?” My voice cracks, and I hate how small it sounds. “We could have-” I stop, swallowing hard. “It could have been so different.” Wyatt laughs, bitter and raw, releasing me just enough to let his fingers trace down to my throat.

“Different?” Wyatt’s voice drops, dark and deadly. “Aren’t you listening? I’m broken. The kind of broken you should run from, not try to fix.” His thumb brushes the pulse in my neck, and I shudder. “The day you appeared in my life, so frail and scared, I instantly understood that nothing would surpass the territorial need I felt to pull you into my arms and protect you from harm. Then they announced you were to be my sister, and the entire world came crashing down. I could never have you, never tell you what I felt staring into your big, beautiful eyes. So guess what?”

“What?” I whisper, pressing my hands against Wyatt’s chest just for something to hold onto. I’m spiraling into his green eyes, into the rush of memories assaulting me.

“I left. I became the harm I so wanted to protect you from. I’m your villain now, the asshole who can’t stand being near you, but I can’t keep away either. It’s killing me.”

I lie beneath Wyatt, every word hitting harder than any punch. My brain struggles with the torrent of emotions flowing through me, but mostly because there’s a twisted sort of understanding. Nothing between me and Wyatt has ever been simple. We’re toxic, damaged. We create the driving wedge that keeps us apart simply because we were never supposed to be together.

Wyatt is whispering now, working through his own torment. “No matter how I try to push you away, you keep coming back. Why can’t you just stay away? Why can’t you let me be?” Wyatt’s hands are still on me, warm and firm, the weight of his body pressing me down. I can feel every inch of him, feel the tremble in his grip as if he’s fighting against his own need to let go and obliterate the fragile line he’s drawn between us.

“I never wanted this,” I whisper, the words a sweet lie on my lips as I push against the memory of the Wyatt I thought I knew. Pushing the boundaries of my asshole stepbrother is one thing, accepting he’s been the stalker I’ve spent my life clinging to is something else entirely. “I never wanted any of this.”

Wyatt’s gaze softens for the briefest second before hardening again, his fingers twitching around my throat just enough to remind me that he’s still in control.

“Neither did I, Avery.” He leans closer, his cheek pressing against mine. “But we don’t always get what we want, do we?”

His breath ghosts across my skin, and for a moment, all I can hear is the thunderous beating of my heart. There’s no air between us, just the unbearable weight of everything left unsaid. Every unspoken desire, every forbidden glance, every moment we let slip through our fingers.

I want to scream, to tell him how unfair it is for him to do this, how cruel it is that he’s waited so long to confess this vicious truth. But nothing comes out. I’m trapped beneath the weight of what I’ve always felt but was too scared to admit. He presses a kiss to my forehead, and I gasp, the sensation both tender and suffocating.

“It could never have been different,” he whispers. “You’ll always have been my weakness.”

A shiver rolls down my spine. His rejection shouldn’t be a reason for me to brush my lips across his cheek, but I can’t bring myself to fight him. Not when my traitorous body is betraying me, not when part of me wants to believe there’s still something left to salvage, some piece of us that isn’t irreversibly splintered. But Wyatt’s right. He’s always been right.

Wyatt starts to pull away, and instinct takes over before I can stop it. With a raw, burning need I didn’t realize had been building, I crash my lips against his. The world tilts as our mouths collide. A fierce, desperate longing extends from the column of my throat to my strangled gasp as I extend to be closer to him. To stop him from withdrawing from me, physically and emotionally. Wyatt’s breath hitches, but then he’s kissing me back with the same crazed intensity, his hands slipping from my throat to tangle roughly in my hair.

It’s not sweet or tender. It’s a cyclone, swirling with hatred, blazing hot in the chaos we create. His teeth graze my bottom lip, and I let out an unhinged sound, lost in the whirlwind of everything that is Wyatt. His rage, his obsession. We plummet into an undeniable passion that’s been buried for far too long. I grasp at his shoulders, pulling him closer, needing more, even though I know this will burn us both.

Wyatt devours my mouth like he’s been starving for this, his fingers pressing bruises into my skin as if he’s afraid I’ll slip away. But I can’t. I’m tethered to him, bound by the poisonous, broken thing that we’ve become.

His lips leave mine only to trail down my jaw, his breath ragged against my neck. I arch beneath him, every nerve ignited. For a fleeting moment, it feels like we could burn the world down together, like we could drown in this madness and somehow come out alive on the other side. But even in the heat of it, I know it’s temporary. This fire will consume us both.

Suddenly, Wyatt jerks back, ripping himself away from me as if he’s been scalded. He stumbles off, gasping for breath, his green eyes wide and wild, as though he’s just woken from a nightmare.

“Don’t.” His voice cracks, and when his eyes meet mine, they’re hollow, haunted by whatever darkness is clawing at him from the inside. “Don’t try to save me, Avery. I’m not worth it.”

I sit up, dazed, my heart pounding in my chest, still feeling the phantom of his lips on mine. Wyatt is pacing now, raking his hands through his brown hair, his face twisted with anguish. The anger surges through me like wildfire. Before I can stop myself, I’m on my feet, my hand swinging out and connecting with his face. The slap rings out in the room. His head whips to the side and remains there, reeling with shock that has his chest heaving. I steel myself, my body trembling with fury.

“No.” I state coldly. My jaw is set, my shoulders squared. “I won’t let you drown yourself in some noble version of self-loathing, and you don’t get to make the decisions anymore. You’ve had too much power over me for too long.”

His face remains turned away, his cheek red where I struck him, but his jaw is clenched, a muscle twitching as he struggles to keep his composure. Slowly, he straightens up, his back stiffening as he faces me again, the storm brewing behind those wild green eyes.

“I’m no good for you, Avery.” His voice is low, broken, like he’s tearing himself apart just to speak. “I’ll ruin you.” A bitter laugh escapes me before I can stop it.

“You already have.” At Wyatt’s small wince, I turn my back on him, unable to bear it anymore. We continue to balance on his line between hate and something just as dangerous, and I’m losing resolve. Losing sight of what really matters. “Contact Fredrick, tell him the deal’s off. I would die before I let any harm come to Meg.”

“I had a hunch you’d say that,” Wyatt mutters, moving towards his desk. I ignore him, gripping the footboard of his bed to get a grapple on my heart.

How have I gained and lost so much in just a single conversation? Wyatt’s truth has rippled through me like an atom bomb, shattering what I thought I knew of Mr. XO. He was never a stranger. He was right here under my nose, unaware of how his words have served me through the years. Maybe, deep down, I had a feeling. Maybe that’s why I could never fully discount him.

My cheeks flame as I think of the letter sitting beneath my mattress, of what Wyatt would think if he ever saw it. I still can’t bridge that gap. How the words I wrote for that man is the same one who has handed my twin a death sentence. I should be yelling and screaming, punching and kicking at the injustice of it all. But there’s still time. I can fix this. I can still save them both.

Coming up behind me, Wyatt’s body presses against my back. I welcome his warmth, reminding myself of how I slept last night, cradled in his arms. Wyatt finally gave in, I just need him to do it again. Leaning back, I rest my head on his shoulder, staring up at the ceiling. We remain like that for so long, content to listen to each other’s breathing, that I flinch softly when he speaks.

“It’s a good thing I’ll never allow myself to love you. It’ll give me clarity.” My brows pinch together, mouth parting.

“What are you-?”

Before I can finish, Wyatt’s hand snakes around my waist, pulling me in close. His lips brush against the sensitive skin just beneath my ear. “Your safety has always come first,” he whispers, his voice low. “Above all others.”

I barely register the press of his lips before a sharp scratch pierces the side of my neck. A jolt of panic floods my system, but Wyatt’s arm tightens around my waist, trapping my arms at my side.

“What the hell,” my words slur as a cold rush of fluid spreads through my veins, whatever he’s injected me with seeping into my bloodstream. My knees buckle, but Wyatt holds me up, his grip firm as I gasp, struggling to breathe. “Fu..fuck…you, Wyatt,” I choke out, my vision blurring, the room spinning around me. My hands claw weakly at his arm, but there’s no strength left in them.

“Shh,” Wyatt soothes, his breath warm and tingling against my skin. Everything fades into a cold, numbing darkness as for the second time tonight, I slump against him, his grip the only thing keeping me from hitting the floor. The last thing I hear before everything goes black is the sound of his voice. Soft, regretful, and final.

“It was always going to end this way, Avery. I was always going to make sure you hated me because that’s the only way I know how to keep you safe.”