Dangerously Damaged: A Contemporary Dark Bully Romance (The Shadowed Souls Series Book 3)

by Abigail Cole

  “Oh hey, we’re gonna have a movie marathon, if you wanna chill with us?” Axel offers, spotting me lurking in the open archway.

  “Where’s the cake?” I ask, ignoring his question since I don’t really want to answer. I appreciate the sentiment but don’t particularly feel welcome, especially since no one else has bothered to look my way.

  “What cake?” Garrett replies, focusing on the screen and raising a metal whisk to his mouth. Shifting forward, I see the mixing bowl full of mix in his lap, Axel with the other whisk in his hand and Avery leaning over to take a spoonful. Who the fuck…just, ew and…. why?

  “Fucking barbarians, the lot of you.” Avery’s giggle reaches my ears as I’m about to turn away, the sound so pure and light. I hadn’t released how much I’d missed it, needed it. My heart hitches in the hopes that small glimpse of joy was directed at me. I crave to put a smile on her face that never wavers, cause laughter to spill from her lips as easily as breathing. I know in this moment I can’t leave the mansion until she’s found happiness in her life again. I’ll take online courses, I’ll attend night school to make up the lost time, but for now I’m staying right here.

  Rolling my shoulders back, despite aching to join their home cinema set-up, I stride straight back into the gym and shove my hands into a pair of red boxing gloves. Throwing my fist into the punching bag in the far corner, I hop on my toes, ducking and swinging with a new sense of determination.

  “What are you doing? Come and join us.” Huxley catches my wrist as I swing back, halting my movements with a surprising amount of strength. In fact, his whole body looks broader, his chest filling a white t-shirt and his biceps straining against the short sleeves.

  “What’s it look like? It’s not just you that needs to bulk up.” Huxley sighs deeply, his blonde waves having grown enough to almost lie on his chest.

  “But this isn’t you. You don’t use your fists or rely on violence. Out of everyone here, you need to keep a level head.” I grunt, shoving him back a step and continue my assault on the punching bag.

  “Yeah well, look how far that’s gotten me. Avery hates me, my brothers think I’m unable to help. I have to do something.” This time Huxley moves to stand in front of me, blocking my access to the punching bag and challenging me with his brown eyes.

  “Then make it something worthwhile, go to Avery. Don’t let her leave until you’ve patched things up. When she got back from her place, don’t think it went unnoticed how she sought you out first. Whether she admits it to herself or not, she misses and needs you.” He looks so sure; I wonder if Avery has said as much to him. If there is a chance I can fix our fragile relationship. But even as I think about it, I know she will never be able to forgive me for the things I’ve done, no matter what the outcome is.

  “She doesn’t need me, she needs Meg. And I’m going to do everything I can to save them both.”

  Meg

  Wyatt’s snores aren’t the only reason I’ve laid awake watching him sleep beside me. He hadn’t even managed to find the sleeping bag in his drunk state last night, collapsing in the middle of the floor instead. I unzipped the outside and dragged it across us in a makeshift blanket and lifted his head so he could use the pillow. He’ll have enough to regret with his killer of a hangover when he wakes without the added strain of a neck injury. I know it’s foolish and that only his inebriated state brought him down here, but I can’t deny how good his warm embrace felt against my skin. Maybe it’s just been too long since I’ve had human contact. Or maybe…

  Stopping that train of thought at the station and switching off the engine, my eyes flutter to the door, a flicker of hope igniting within me. I’d been so stupidly caught up on my feelings, I’d momentarily forgotten the fate that awaits me here. I need to stop being ridiculous. If I remain here, I’m doomed to die by poisoning. This isn’t the time to add Stockholm syndrome to the list, I need a plan and I need it now. Wyatt is on his side facing me, his hot breath mixed with hints of whiskey fanning my face. The answer I’ve been looking for is right in front of me, hidden in the safety of his pants. No, not his dick you slut – although I wouldn’t say no, but the key!

  Smoothing my fingers across the stones separating us, I reach beneath the blanket for his jeans. My hand lands on his waist and I gently reach down to feel out the groove of his pocket. The denim is rough beneath my fingertips, the curve I was hunting for presenting itself to me. Wyatt’s hand abruptly shoots between us and grips my wrist tightly, his eyes flying open with a snarl.

  “What are you doing?” he growls, the confusion in his gaze clear as he takes in his surroundings. Well damn, no backing out now.

  “What do you think?” Ignoring the painfully tight grip on my wrist, I reach forward for his belt buckle and flutter my eyelashes at him. He remains still, not pulling me in but not pushing me away either. Conflict pulls at his features, his morning glory shifting beneath my fingers and making me smile. Whether he’ll admit it or not, I affect him and that will be my ticket out of here. Shoving me onto my back roughly, he suddenly stands with a slight sway and backs towards the door as if I might pounce on him. Keeping my smirk firmly in place, I stand and wait for his next move.

  “Why would I ever lower myself to be with you when I could have anyone I want?” he grits through his teeth, the lie evident by the bulge in his jeans but his words hurt nevertheless. “I’ll sooner have a few ribs removed and suck myself off than let you near me.”

  Closing the distance between us, I press my chest against his in a challenge. If he wants to upset me, he can go right ahead, but he’ll look me in the eye and see I don’t give a shit while he does it. Wyatt thinks the world revolves around pain and fear, but those are not the ways to crack me. If he wants me to shatter at his feet, he’ll have to dig a lot deeper than that. Inclining his head to regard me with shrewd eyes, I seize the moment I’ve been waiting for and press my mouth against his.

  He freezes beneath me, but I’ve come this far so I wind my hand around his neck and pull him into me. His lips jerk into action, punishing me with their kiss. Heat rolls from his body, his hands slipping into my hair and yanking roughly. On a gasp, he takes over control and I gladly let him. His tongue duels with mine, twisting and battling to get even closer. Electricity zips through my body like my tongue is wrapped around a live wire, filling me with a current that has all the hairs on my body standing on end.

  Reining myself in, I focus on taking back the upper hand. My fingertips skim his solid chest through his shirt, the smooth material sliding beneath my touch. Following the mouth-watering abs, my hands land on his waistband, jerking him forward to grind against me. He is rock hard, his dick straining to be free. Popping open his jean button, I slide my hand beneath his boxers and take him in my palm. He hisses against my mouth, strung up tighter than a wind-up toy.

  Stroking his veiny length, I push my hand deeper to cup his balls and shift their heavy weight in my palm. His hands are still knotted in my hair, holding me roughly in place against his lips despite not kissing me. Instead, he’s watching me carefully as if this is a trick or I might disappear at any moment. Placing one more soft touch against his mouth with mine, I lick a path with my tongue to his square jawline and along the side of his neck.

  Unzipping his jeans further, I hook my thumbs beneath his boxers and push them both down and I drop to my knees before him. His dick springs free, an impressed smirk taking root on my face. Forcing myself to focus, I wiggle his jeans the rest of the way past his shins and dip my hands into the pockets in one, smooth move. I dig deep, my heart pounding heavily as I find them empty. Shit.

  Buying myself some extra time, I nibble at his thighs and tease him mercilessly, enjoying myself more than I should. His hands remain locked around my head, but they don’t hinder any of my movements, his head falls back against the door on a frustrated groan. Feeling around the edge of his pants, I find the back pockets and nearly whoop as my hand clasps around the key. Coyly pushing it into my sock, I
need to finish what I started to not seem suspicious. Oh no, how will I survive?

  Shaking my head at my inner sarcastic bitch, I take the base of his cock in my hand and slide my lips over his tip. Pushing onwards, I take him all the way into the back of my throat in one long movement. His involuntary buck beneath me is all I needed to seal my double victory. Not giving him a moment to compose himself, I draw back and repeat the process with a mixture of toe-curling slowness and heat-bursting speed.

  Jeez, even I’m getting all hot and bothered in response to his moans and gasps, wetness spreading between my thighs that I need to keep clamped together tightly. I can’t let my lady parts drive my actions when I have an ulterior motive. And screwing with socks on is just a big no-no, so this will have to do for the both of us. Gripping onto his muscular thighs, he grinds against me as I build up a steady rhythm. he is groaning loudly to. His hands are splayed in my hair, pushing me on in encouragement.

  Suddenly the dynamic between us changes, an invisible string snapping which has Wyatt holding me still so he can thrust into my mouth. The spell I’d had him firmly under has reversed, his legs pump against my palms as he chases down his own release and all I can do is hang on for the ride. The smooth ridge of his cock gliding across the roof of my mouth has me imagining all the ways he’d take me, and luckily my mouth is too full to suggest any of them. My resolve has deserted me, a hint of saltiness from his precum making me heady.

  Fuck, I want him. Just a little, in this moment. I want him to take everything he needs, use me in the worst ways and leave me thoroughly satisfied and shamed. I want to be his dirty little secret. A loud moan fills the cell a second before his cum spurts into my throat on one final thrust. He grips me tightly, bucking and groaning as he rides out his orgasm. Swallowing his load that was threatening to choke me, he gasps and finally eases me off him gently. His fingers coil around my chin, tilting my head upwards with the small trace of a caress. His face is shrouded by shadows, his mindset unreadable as I remain on the uneven ground bruising my knees.

  He moves so quickly; I can’t help but flinch. Using his grasp on my jaw to shove me aside, his jeans are pulled up and he’s out the door without buttoning them up. The chain rattles loudly as he hastily locks me out of sight and stomps up the stairs. The door at the top slamming closed echoes throughout the dungeon and I allow myself a second of hurt from his rejection. Okay, second over. Reaching into my sock and producing the padlock key, I grin widely despite the hint of trepidation cutting through me.

  The chances of me escaping are slim, extremely slim. But if I remain here, I’m going to be killed anyway and no one wants to sit around wondering what death will feel like. My mom didn’t raise me to wait for a miracle to find you, you have to get up and find it yourself. I would rather wait until my clit isn’t throbbing with need and the household is mostly asleep, but I don’t have time to waste. Wyatt could realise the key is missing any second and my chance would be lost for good.

  Pulling on the hoodie, I slip my arm through the bars on the door and search for the padlock. The chain is much thicker than I expected as my fingers trail further along it with no avail. Standing on my tiptoes and using the bar to hold me up, my fingers graze the padlock but it’s too far down the chain for me to grab. Panic starts to filter through me, my heart beating wildly as I weigh up my options.

  Going with option A, don’t think – just do, I grip onto the chain and hoist it up. Yanking with all my strength, I manage to pull it high enough to draw some of the steel manacle through the grate. The padlock is closer now, my hands able to reach out and unlock it without a moment to lose. As soon as the lock is free, the chain begins to slide back through the grate like a recoiling snake. I desperately grab to stop its descent but the heavy weight slips through my fingers and crashes to the ground. No going back now, I reach around to hoist up the wooden slat covering the door and dash out into the corridor.

  My limbs are tingling and I’m on the verge of a heart attack, but I force my legs to move as I begin to run. Leaving the staircase behind, I follow the tunnel which seems to be slanting at a downward angle. The lanterns have either not been placed this far down or not turned on as I’m plunged into darkness and keep running all the while. I really hope I’m right about this.

  Garrett

  “Garrett?” Axel’s mumble reaches me through a deep sleep. I jerk upright on my front, dread spilling through me that something is wrong. Looking around the room wildly in panic, the dying sun bleeding out into hues of reds and oranges beyond the window, my eyes settle on Axel. There’s an amused hook to one of his eyebrows, those dazzling amber eyes filled with mirth and his lips slanted up into a smile. It’s then I notice my hand is firmly clasped around his balls, obviously getting carried away during our midday nap session.

  “Although I appreciate the massage, I’m not ready to take this any further with you at the moment.” Retracting my hand, I roll onto my back to stare at the ceiling. I didn’t miss the way he specified ‘with me’, because we both know he’s more than ready to let Avery into his pants. I get he’s recovering, which is exactly what he should be doing, but he didn’t even ask me if he needed relieving. I’ve been by his side every moment of every day, nursing him back to health with my blue balls tucked firmly between my legs and he lets Avery suck him off because she knows how to be gentle. It may not be my forte, but I could go easy for Axel. I’d do anything for him. And holy fuck, am I jealous?

  “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again. Until you’re ready,” I grumble, not liking the worried look I can see him giving the side of my face. He pulls on my far shoulder, rolling me onto my side to face him.

  “You don’t have to wait for me, you know. If you want to go and find someone to relieve you, I’ll be fine. You’ve been amazing with helping me recover, but you’re still you. Nothing’s changed.” Ouch. I must fail at hiding my reaction as Axel’s brow furrows further, his hand reaching up to cup my cheek. “I didn’t mean it like that, you know how you get. You’re practically a sex addict and I can’t give you want you need right now.”

  “Maybe I only need you,” I whisper, a rare glimpse of my vulnerability rising to the surface.

  “We both know that’ll never be the case.” He snorts and looks away from me, staring at a spot beyond my shoulder while I quickly shut down my stupid fucking emotions. Clearing my throat, I nudge his hand from my face and leave the bed. Throwing my legs into a pair of blue tracksuit pants, I grab the matching jacket from the arm of a nearby chair and leave the room, blood rushing through my ears too fast to hear Axel’s protests.

  I hate I let him deep enough to be able to hurt me. Why did I do that to myself? Guess I’m still aching for punishment, the same way I was as a boy who stubbornly waited for someone to care for him, despite the long-term effects it would have to myself. A part of me wanted Axel to care, maybe even more and I was ready to gut myself at his feet to let him piece me back together or crush me beneath his boots.

  What if I’ve been wrong this whole time? What if Axel likes being with me because I don’t usually do ties, he would have been free to leave and come back whenever he felt like it. My heart’s a revolving door; many pass through but there’s no emergency stop button for anyone to stay long enough to hurt me.

  Turning the last corner before the kitchen, Sharon collides with my bare chest. She steps back on her ridiculously tall heels with an ‘oomph’, clutching her Louis Vuitton handbag like a lifeline. Her eyes flick to my abs quickly, darting back to my face as I growl like a pissed off panther. I’ve been waiting to catch her alone, and boy is now a better time than any when I’m spiralling through hatred and self-doubt. Stepping forward, I force her into the cage of my body, leaning my hands against the wall either side of her head with a death stare, her wide eyes filling with the type of fear I strive on.

  “If Karma doesn’t come for the abusive piece of shit you are one day soon, I’m going flay you alive and spit-roast you on a barbeque. Then I’ll
force feed you to every single one of all your paedophilic friends that have ever dared laid a hand on Axel.” A shudder rolling through her skin-tight pantsuit makes me smile the kind of smile a psychopath would give his next victim. Pushing away, I round into the kitchen until her already-composed voice stops me in my tracks.

  “You’re worse for him than I ever was.”

  “What the fuck did you just say?” I whirl around to see her smug shitting face back with vengeance, one hand casually on her hip.

  “At least Axel always knew what I wanted out of him, but you’re just dragging him along to prove something to yourself. He’s a passing novelty to you, so who’s the real abuser here?” Sharon spins so fast, her ponytail whips around her viciously and she strides away with confidence. I stand there, mouth hanging open and a heat rising to my cheeks as if I’ve just been slapped. I can’t move, can’t think straight.

  Red curtains my vision. I want to smash everything in close range and scream. To beat the living shit out of the closest possible person, feel their bones crack beneath my knuckles and hear them beg for mercy until the beast within me is sated. But none of that will matter now I understand the problem. Fuck, I hate Sharon is the one to put things into perspective, but I realise why Axel doesn’t believe I can change. No one will ever believe it because I’ve never given them cause to. But I’m gonna prove them all wrong. So, fucking wrong.

  ∞∞∞

  “Yes, there. It’s perfect.” I glance around the patio, excitement rippling through me. Avery has just finished dotting candles around the hammocks, Huxley following to light them while Dax works on lighting the fire pit. He nudges the burning wood with a steel poker and places a mesh cover on top, heat already radiating around us. Night has fallen, a thick blanket of the deepest blue acting as our canopy, thousands of twinkling specks covering the moonless sky.