Page 79 of Twisted Obsession

She stopped me with a feather light skim of her lips over mine. “You never have to apologize.”

I stared at her collarbone, unable to look her in the eye. “I don’t know what happened.”

“You were in prison for four years,” she reminded me not unkindly. “It’s going to take a minute to adjust to the outside and that’s okay. Just take deep breaths and think of something that makes you feel safe.”

I was hooked on her face then, her eyes, her lips, her sweet smile.

You,my brain immediately replied.

She was my safe space.

My anchor.

She kept me together.

But I didn’t tell her that.

I brought her fingers to my lips and kissed the red welts I’d created.

“Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head. “Didn’t feel a thing.”

She was lying, but I couldn’t find the energy to call her on it. I didn’t say anything when the elevator slid open on her floor, and I had to let her go. I had to stay in the box while she gave me a tiny wave and let the doors close between us.

Then I was alone, letting the mechanical coffin take me to the top floor, the penthouse, my childhood home. I grew up running wild through those corridors. I grew up memorizing every chip and scratch.

My stomach tightened the closer I rose to home, to my family and things. I knew it would take some adjusting, but I’d never been more determined to throw myself into work and forget everything else until I could get my nerves back in order. Once I did, I would find my parents and hug my mom.

There was something about going to prison that made you miss your mother. Maybe it was the comfort and safety she provided my entire life, but it was the first thing I planned on doing once I saw her. The other was thanking my dad for making sure I didn’t get my ass jumped. I knew he’d pulled a lot of strings to ensure I left that place reasonably unscathed. Even if I had the uncles watching my back, it was my dad who made sure all the proper palms were greased and I was grateful for that.

Lewis must have called up.

I should have known he would, yet I was startled to find my parents and Edmund standing in the apartment foyer, anxiously watching the elevator arrive.

“Darius.” My mom’s face bloomed into a smile that could have moved galaxies. It stretched her tearstained face, exposing straight, white teeth and a love that swelled off her in a wave. I felt it slam into me even before she was hurrying across the distance.

I met her halfway and scooped her against my chest. Her arms curled around my shoulders, tight enough to cut what little air I had collected, but I didn’t need to breathe.

“Oh sweetheart,” she sniffled into my shoulder. “I missed you so much.”

“Missed you, too, Ma.”

I breathed in her familiar scent of rose water and sunlight, flooded by the memories of growing up snuggled against her chest at night while she read to me, while she ran long fingers through my hair and kissed my cheek. I gave her a hard squeeze before letting her go. She followed suit only to latch her arm through mine and hang on as I straightened my shoulders and faced the man I was practically a carbon copy of.

“Son.” My father extended his hand. I went to accept it only to have his fingers curl around mine and yank me in for a one-armed embrace. “Welcome home,” he murmured.

I gave my father a hard thump on his back. “Thanks Dad.”

With a matching pat, Alexander Medlock pulled back to look me over. “Okay?”

I nodded but kept quiet because nothing was okay and felt like they never really would be.

“Did the uncles look after you?” Mom asked, peering up at me.

I nodded again. “Milo wanted me to say hi.”

The concern folding her brows smoothed and her lips bowed into a brilliant smile. “Aw, how is he? Your grandma was asking about him at lunch the other day.”