Page 95 of Quiet Obsession
I don’t fucking know.
She didn’t want soft from me... but it’s different with Noah. Why? Maybe because whatever’s between them is serious and I’m just an outlet for her fucked little head’s recklessness.
“So... he’s got your blessing?” I spit out.
“Maybe.” Hyde pulls from the bottle, sets it down, then drinks again, turning his body my way. “What do you think?”
“I think—”
Fuck, whatdoI think?
I’ve been trying to quit Millie since the start. Aside from being Hyde’s sister, she’s young and innocent and deserves a stable, sane man after all she’s been through.
Noah’s stable, but the thought of them drives me insane.
I’ve told myself to stop obsessing and stalking her.Every daysince I saw her lying in that hospital bed, still, fragile, and barely clinging to life.
“I don’t know, Hyde,” I say, even though what I really want to say isfuck him up, fuck him up good before I do. “They’re two consenting adults, right? I don’t think there’s anything you should do. Unless you’re worried he’ll hurt her.”
He nods to let me know he heard, his jaw tight, before he pulls from his bottle again.
And I swear he muttersit’s not her I’m worried about.
29
Millie
I wipe my face with the back of my hand, inhaling a deep breath. It doesn’t stop the tears from coming as I sit on my bed, back to the wall, knees bent to my chest, body racked with silent sobs.
I’m so hot it feels like I’m running a fever. The hoodie I’ve been wearing all day is itchy, damp at the collar from tears and the sweat misting my skin.
The clock on the nightstand blinks just past ten. I’ve been crying for almost an hour. Across the room, Abby’s bed is perfectly made, throw pillows fluffed, and the silence of her absence is somehow worse than any noise she could make.
Maybe I’d get a grip and calm down if she were here. Maybe if she talked my ear off, I’d stop seeing Creed with that beautiful brunette in his lap, her fingers weaving into his hair, lips tracing the curve of his neck.
I don’t know what hurts more. The fact he’s done with me, or that I knowwhy.
“You’re really messed up, baby, you know that?”
Yes, I do.
And the sick, humiliating truth is that being called messed up by Elias Creed felt better than being called perfect by anyone else. At least when he said it, he was looking at me.The real me. Not the fragile, broken thing everyone else sees.
Then he sat that girl down in his lap, pawed her ass, and stared right at me while she kissed his neck.
Message received.
I’m an idiot. A naïve idiot who’s spent every waking moment replaying that morning in the equipment closet and that kiss the other night. I thought it meant something.
Choking on tears, I roll onto my side.
I don’t know what I’m supposed to be anymore. Creed wants my words, but if he can’t handle my body language, how can he handle the rest?
Silence was a shield before. Now it feels like it’s a weapon of mass destruction that turns people away.
I’mso confused.
I just want to be enough. Not too much, not too little, just right, but I don’t know what that means. Everyone wants something different. Everyone expects something different and I don’t know who I am anymore.
