Page 75 of Quiet Obsession
But no matter how many years pass, how much muscle mass I add, how many guys bleed under my knuckles, that scared, inadequate, undeserving little boy still finds me.
And every time, without fail, I reach for the same thing.
I wish I had better control. I wish that after almost seven years without my father’s fists, I’d be over the bullshit he put me through. That I’d benormal, but the truth is, I can’t handle my emotions any better now than when I was six, ten, or fourteen.
Glancing around the room, I find my phone on the bedside table, a text from Hyde waiting.
24
Creed
Hyde: Stop calling. Leave me the fuck alone.
My heart sinks. I don’t know what I was expecting, though.
My hands ball into fists, another bout of guilt tunneling my vision. I’ve fucked up plenty of times before, but Hyde never reacted this way.
My throat feels as if someone’s fucking choking me.
I fucked up, but I can fix it. Whatever it takes. I’ll stop drinking. I’ll stop provoking assholes in bars. I’ll stop giving Hyde reasons to hate me.
He can’t be done with me.
Marching down the hospital corridors, discharge papers stuffed in my back pocket, I call an Uber. ThenI try Dash. When he doesn’t answer, probably still asleep, I call Noah. He answers on the third ring, sounding awake and rested.
“Creed,” he greets. “Another fun night?”
“Not important. Did you see Hyde last night?”
He exhales down the line. “Before or after Jed called him to come get you from the bar?”
“After.” I hop into the back seat of the Uber. “He got a call from his mother and left.”
“He didn’t stop by here. Why? What’s wrong?”
“Did you know he has a sister?”
There’s a pause on the line. “Hyde has a sister?”
“Apparently. Her name’s Millie and...” I swallow hard, making room for words. “Something bad happened to her last night.”
“What do you mean?”
I walk him through everything I remember, and by the time I’m done, we’re outside my dorm. Noah’s still on the line, processing my words.
“Call him,” I say. “See if he’ll tell you what happened. I’ll grab a shower and come over.”
“Yeah, alright. I’ll see what I can find out.”
I head straight into my dorm room and hit the shower, washing the blood and the hospital scent off my body as fast as possible. Seven minutes later, I’m dressed and turning my room upside down, searching for my car keys before I remember they’re in Jed’s pocket.
Noah’s waiting for me in his room, both elbows on his knees, face hidden in his palms, fingers digging into his scalp.
“It’s bad,” he says, looking up, a note of disbelief in his voice.
I collapse into the armchair, my heart picking up pace. “How bad?”
“Their mother found her on the bathroom floor with an empty bottle of sleeping pills in hand.”
