Echoes of Secrets (Obsidian MC #7)

Chapter Seven

Mitchell

I’m a coward.

When Evie was deeply asleep, I tucked her into bed and left. Holding her was a mistake. One I can’t make again. Inviting her here was a mistake, too, but I can’t feel bad about that. I was able to spend some time with her. To be her friend. Even though that’s all this will ever be.

I grab her crutches that Ghost brought up and quietly place them on the other side of the bed.

“How’s she doing?” Emily asks. “I fucking hate it when she gets those pain attacks. There’s nothing she can do to stop it.”

“She’s asleep,” I say, pulling Em into my arms. I’ll be the first to admit that I love every single one of these people I call family. They’ve been more of a family to me than mine ever has.

“She was still whimpering when she fell asleep,” I admit. “You might want to stay with her tonight. She shouldn’t be moving around until the pain stops.”

“Where are you going?” she asks, stepping out of my hug.

“Home,” I admit. “I can’t, Em. I just can’t.”

Not wanting to explain more, I step around her to leave.

“Help her down the stairs when she wakes up,” I call back.

So, you see… Coward. Instinctively, I know that walking away from the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen while she’s still alive is the smartest decision. But my heart knows that Evie could very well be the one person to make me feel part of something. Even after meeting her once before, something inside of me clicked into place.

Sure, it could be longing. I’m lonely even though I’m surrounded by people who love me.

It could even be lust. Evie really is beautiful.

It could be something deeper. Something more dangerous.

As I step into the cool night air, the weight of it all presses down on me. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m making the biggest mistake of my life by walking away from her. But I’m terrified, and I’ve learned that when fear takes over, it’s easier to run than to face the unknown.

Of course, what I would be facing is most definitely not unknown. I know exactly what would happen to her if they found out I had a weakness. I have a lot of weaknesses, and they’re all currently sitting in the same damn building.

I climb onto my bike, my hands gripping the handles so tightly that my knuckles turn white. I don’t know how long I sit there before the engine starts, and I pull away, heading home, but the thoughts of Evie don’t leave me for a second. Her face. The way she leaned into me when I held her. The way her pain seemed to echo in my chest. It’s all too much.

I try to talk myself down. I’m not ready for this. Not ready to get attached to someone like her. Not ready to let myself fall for someone who might be gone in an instant.

But damn it, I can’t help it.

I pull into my driveway, the house dark and silent. I should feel relieved, but all I can think about is the warmth I left behind.

Inside, I pace for a while, trying to make sense of everything. But there’s no logic here, no rhyme or reason to the mess my heart has become.

I grab a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet, pour myself a glass, and sink into the couch. The alcohol burns as it slides down, but it doesn’t numb the ache. Nothing will.

The phone buzzes on the coffee table, breaking the silence. I glance at it, my heart leaping in my chest as I see the name on the screen: Emily .

I don’t pick up immediately. I stare at the phone, my finger hovering over the green answer button. She’s probably checking on me, making sure I’m okay after... Well, after I ran.

Finally, I tap the screen, bringing the phone to my ear.

“Mitchell?” Emily’s voice comes through, calm but worried. “She’s awake.”

I don’t respond. The pit in my stomach grows. I know where this is going.

“I think you need to come back,” she says softly. “Evie needs you. I know something in your head scared you, but she needs you, Mitchell. You can’t keep running from whatever it is you’re running from.”

She has no fucking idea how scared I am every day I open my eyes. She has no idea that my running is keeping her alive. She doesn’t know that the reason for my fear is alive and breathing, not in my head.

No one knows.

“Sorry, Em,” I say softly. “I can’t.”

Like a coward, I hang up.

I let the phone drop to the couch, the weight of it all settling in my chest like a brick. I could almost hear Emily’s disappointment on the other end of the line, but I couldn’t let myself listen. I can’t let myself be weak, even if that’s exactly what I feel like right now.

I pace again, the silence of the house suffocating. Every footstep echoes in the empty rooms. I want to scream. I want to punch something. Hell, I want to be anywhere but here.

I grab the whiskey again, but this time, I don’t even bother to pour it into a glass. I just drink straight from the bottle, hoping it’ll dull the sharp edges of the fear gnawing at me.

It doesn’t. It never does.