Page 6 of My Addiction
I walk back inside the building, but I stop just past the doors and turn to watch Colton. Colton.
I keep repeating his name in my head when I’m not replaying the way he said mine. Something tight is building in my chest, enough that I have to stop and take a slow breath. I don’t know what’s happening to me. All I know is that Colton is mine.
When Declan claimed Xavier, Mom called it imprinting. She said it was something people like us do sometimes. At the time, I barely listened. It sounded ridiculous. Too emotional. Too irrational. There’s no actual data to support it, no evidence, no measurable explanation. I wrote it off as bullshit.
But now—
Now I’m standing in the middle of a lobby, struggling to breathe because a man I met less than an hour ago just walked away from me. And I’m starting to wish I’d paid a lot more attention.
I watch him buckle Ollie into the car seat. His hands are steady, careful as he checks the straps twice before closing the door. But he keeps looking over his shoulder. At the parking lot, the street and every passing car. When he finally gets into the driver’s seat, he grips the steering wheel with both hands and bows his head against it. He stays like that for a second. Then two. He looksdefeated. And suddenly I have to know what’s going on inside his head.
It takes him several minutes before starting the car. Once he pulls out, I quickly leave the building and get into my own vehicle to follow. I don’t go back for the things I left in the office. Usually, that would send me into a death spiral until I corrected it, but that feeling of not completing a task doesn’t come. I’m not taking my focus off him for the time it would take me to pack everything up. I want — no, need — to know where he is going. Something inside of me is saying that I have to. Pulling the BMW 7 Series into traffic, I follow him.
When I saw him walk into the room and smile at me, I knew what a drug addict felt like taking their first hit. I want more — more smiles, more dimples, more of him saying my name, more touches. I want my hands on him and his on me. He’s already becoming my addiction. I won’t be satisfied until he is mine. The baby complicates things. It means he’s been with a woman at some point. Would he be open to being with a man? He belongs to me, so he’ll have to be. The first step is to find out how to keep him. I could call Mom, but then I think about the exact person who has the data I need. I punch the phone button on my steering wheel. Xavier picks up on the second ring.
“Fuck, Ronan, you actually know how to make a call? I thought you only sent texts.” Xavier laughs.
“Why do you stay with Declan?”
“What?”
I take a deep breath. I hate repeating myself. It is a waste of time. He hears the question, so he should just fucking answer it. “I asked why you stayed with Declan,” I repeat slowly.
“I heard your question, but it doesn’t make any sense. I love him, but I have a feeling that is not what you are asking.” I hearmovement on his end of the line, then Declan says, “Who are you talking to?”
“Ronan. He wants to know why I stay with you.”
“What the fuck? Give me the fucking phone.”
“He called me.” I roll my eyes. Declan is possessive of Xavier, and I’ve never understood it. But I’m starting to see why.
“Why are you asking my fiancé that?” Declan’s deep voice comes through my speakers. He’s not yelling, he’s calm. Which means I have struck a nerve with him.
“I want to keep Colton, and I need to know why Xavier stays with your psychotic ass.”
“Who’s Colton?”
“None of your business. Now put Xavier back on the phone.” I’m getting impatient. I need answers so I can plan my next steps. Finally, Xavier comes back on the line.
“Do all psychopaths do this sort of thing? Or is it just your family?”
“I don’t have time right this minute to go through the psychology of our makeup. Could you just answer the question?”
“Declan makes me feel wanted and cared for. I’ve never had anyone choose me. He makes me feel safe.”
“Is that before or after you were kidnapped?” I hear Declan growl in the background. He hates being reminded of what happened to Xavier. The men involved are no longer breathing, so I don’t see the big deal. Then I have a thought.
What if someone kidnapped Colton? A tightness I’ve never felt before squeezes my lungs. The thought shouldn’t have this effect on me, but it does.
“You asshole. Just had to bring that up. Now I won’t be able to take a piss by myself for the rest of the day. Look, Declan gives me everything I never had before, and I’m not talking about the stupid amount of shit that he buys me all the time. He gives me stability, a home, and, as fucked up as you all are, a family. I know that his obsession with me is his way of loving me. And I love him for it. He makes me happy.”
“Okay.”
“Okay, that’s all you got? Just okay.”
“Yeah, you answered my question. I need to go.” I disconnect the call as Colton pulls into a shitty-looking pay-by-the-week motel. He parks, gets Ollie from the back seat, and carries him inside. He has to step around garbage as he makes his way to the room. He quickly comes back out and grabs the bags. This place is not where he belongs. The leather squeaks as my fingers tighten around the steering wheel. It would be simple to get him kicked out, but then I nix the idea. I remember the punishment for doing that to Xavier, and I don’t want to have to write out my reports to Mom by hand again. I shiver just thinking about it. Who in their right mind uses paper? I wait a few more minutes, but Colton doesn’t come back outside. I can see the light of the room around the door. It doesn’t even fit into the jamb properly. There’s only a single lock. There’s no deadbolt. This place isn’t safe for them. I call the head of my security.
“Taylor,” he answers.
