Page 123 of Quiet Obsession
We’re on the fifth floor. Creed and Noah’s floor. He’s on sixth along with Dash. I’m on second.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, pushing away from the wall and out of the elevator.
“I—I was...” I stutter, a deep flush creeping up my neck. My palms start sweating, mind blanking out. “I was just...”
“Wherehave you been?” he repeats, looming over me, his protectiveness surfacing like a physical wall. “It’s barely past six, Millie. Why are you on this floor?”
“I was just... checking if...” I scramble for an excuse, for something plausible, but my hands are slick, and my ears are ringing. “I was just here to... I mean, I was just checking if...”
“Ifwhat? Stop stuttering and don’t fucking lie to me. What were you doing—” he pauses, head whipping left where a door clicks open ten feet away.
Noah peeks out, parking his shoulder against the frame. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants, his chest bare, hair ruffled as if he just crawled out of bed.
“She was with me, Hyde,unclench,” he says. “We were watching a movie and she fell asleep. I didn’t want to wake her.”
Hyde’s gaze is sharp as it shifts between us, nostrils flaring as he takes in Noah’s barely dressed form.
The silence is agonizing.
I’m trying to hide the shock, my fingers twisting in the hem of my sweater. I look at Noah, but he doesn’t look back at me.
“What movie?” my brother asks, testing us.
“Breakfast Club,” Noah shoots back without missing a beat.
Hyde lets out a slow breath, his shoulders relaxing a fraction, suspicion receding. “No wonder you fell asleep, sis.” He looks at Noah again. “Next time, wake her up or walk her back. I don’t want her wandering the halls at dawn.”
“She’s not five. Stop hovering.”
Hyde’s jaw ticks and he motions his chin toward the elevator. “Get back to your room, Millie. I’ll see you at breakfast.”
I don’t dare argue, stepping inside, my legs no longer like jelly but lead instead. As soon as the doors slide shut, my phone pings, Eli throwing my words back at me.
Eli: You need to work on your lies, baby, that one sucked.
It wasn’t much of a lie. Just incoherent stuttering, so it’s myskillsthat need honing. I smile at the screen, the stress of the last two minutes evaporating in a flash.
Me: Yet another thing you can teach me.
36
Millie
I enter the gym a few minutes before Creed normally shows up, bag slung over my shoulder. Since Hyde caught me on the fifth floor, I've decided against the elevator and have been taking the emergency staircase instead. So far, no more near-misses.
The overhead lights are dimmed low and “Stutter” by My Darkest Days pulses through my headphones as my eyes swing toward the treadmills.
I’ve been running for months, flight response in highest gear, my past always hot on my tail. I don’t want to run anymore.
I look at the boxing bags next.
My fight response kicked in when Creed wrapped my knuckles for the first time. Fighting’s better than running, right?
It means facing the past head-on, but...
I can’t change what happened, can’t escape it, can’t beat it into something different. What happened,happened. It’ll always be with me, a heavy weight pressing against my chest.
Try your old pieces on, see if they fit. Try new ones, too.
