Frayed Obsession (The Frayed Trilogy 1)

What will happen to me if he doesn’t find the man responsible?

When he asked me last night if I was involved, if it was my fault, I swear a piece of my heart broke. I wish so much that I could have warned him.

If I’d known—

If I could have—

My throat tightens. Maybe one of us could’ve been spared the anguish of losing our family.

I’d known what was going to happen,but I was going to find a way to warn Sebastian. Except I never got the chance.Heruined it. It wasn’t that he knew what I was planning or that he even knew I’d overheard his conversation, but something I’d done had infuriated him, and it nearly killed me.

I don’t know how long it was before I was conscious enough to have a clear thought. The slightest movement had been agony—every breath was torture. So much so I could barely think past it, but I knew. I knew I was too late, and that knowledge hurt me more than whatever pain he’d inflicted on me.

It was all my fault.Sebastian could have saved them.

But if I hadn’t done what I did, then the event that gave me the realisation and strength I needed to finally escape wouldn’t have happened, and I’d still be there.

Would I have traded my life for theirs? For Sebastian’s family?

As much as I want to be close to Sebastian, I can’t stay here.

I need to let him go.

I just have to make it through the next week or so. Then I’m gone.

Almost as if my body takes on a mind of its own, protesting what my mind is saying, I hedge another step towards him, not caring about the spill or the tape around my foot soaking up the spilt coffee.

“Wait.” In just two strides, he’s right before me. “Are you trying to hurt yourself further?” he asks, bending down, collecting the pieces of the broken mug.

Wanting to help, I crouch down to pick up the few remaining pieces.

Ouch.

Pools of blue lock with my own, and Sebastian looks like he might protest my help, but before he can even say anything, the pain in my ankle has me standing back up, and I try to hide my wince at the quick movement.

I startle when Sebastian grabs my hand and takes the few pieces of the mug from me, setting them on the counter. Instead of letting go, he pauses, his forehead creasing. It’s not until I follow his line of sight to the cuts and scrapes on my palm, a tinge of purple surrounding them, that I see the cause of his concern.

My hand tingles from his touch, sending tiny sparks all over my body, heading directly for my heart. His thumb brushes a featherlight path over my injured skin, and I’m transfixed by the movement.

“I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt,” I say, nerves making my voice barely above a whisper.

I don’t want him to let go. I want him to hold me—I crave it—but I know he won’t. And just like that, a second later, his hand falls away.

“Is everything okay in here?” A breathless voice says from behind me, and I spin around to see a young man standing at the edge of the kitchen. His appearance is dishevelled—his hair sticking up and pants not even done up properly. My gaze is drawn to the gun in his hand resting against his thigh as he takes us in.

“We’re fine, Isaac,” Sebastian says, and I glance between him and the stranger. “I’m ready to go. Can you get the car ready?” It’s less of a question and more of an order, and Isaac hesitates, his gaze flitting between Sebastian and me.

“I should wait—” he begins to say, but Sebastian pins him with a stare, effectively cutting him off. The young man shifts uncomfortably on his feet from the intensity of it until he nods and excuses himself.

Sebastian scowls as his gaze travels down to my ankle, and the moment from before is completely forgotten.

“You’re supposed to keep off your foot,” he mutters, grabbing a towel from one of the drawers and throwing it over the spill.

“I needed some ice for the swelling.” Not a lie. He doesn’t need to know I also wanted to see him and that I needed the relief seeing him brought me to replace the darkness trying to infiltrate my mind.

I’d gotten used to seeing him every day, even if it was from a distance, but now that he’s right in front of me, how am I going to be able to control my feelings for him?

He wouldn’t understand.