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

by Abigail Cole

  “She’s not here,” the same gruff voice booms through the mansion’s walls. I remain wedged in the safe, not wanting to leave in case it’s a trick. The darkness around me filters into my soul, a bitter taste left in my mouth. I’m utterly alone now. Every one of my family has gone – mum, Meg, Nixon and even Wyatt, and I have no way to get any of them back. Tears spill down my legs, my neck stiff and legs cramping but still I remain.

  A soothing thought reaches me in the depths of my grief; I’m not completely alone. There are four others that have proved time and again they will fight for me, bleed for me. They’ve welcomed me into their hearts, but I haven’t given them the same courtesy. The Shadowed Souls isn’t a name for a bunch of lost teenagers who had shitty upbringings, they are a solid unit. There for each other when it really matters, defending their brothers with a bond stronger than blood. I may not know what to do next, but I know they will have my back. My true family.

  Wyatt

  Stepping into the scolding spray of water, I instantly grab a sponge and scrub every inch of skin Meg touched. Not because I’m disgusted, because I liked it. What is wrong with me? I had such a clear plan, deliver Ray his revenge and live an easy, quiet life hiding away from the world in a place I’m wanted. But the Meg had to come along with her pale blue eyes that haunt my dreams and stoke my nightmares. Her brown waves felt so right wrapped around my hand as she took me all the way into her mouth with ease. I’m still as hard as granite, nowhere near sated enough when my fingers itch to pleasure her, my cock throbbing to feel her clench around me with my name falling from her lips. Fuck, I’m seriously in trouble here.

  My body is rubbed raw by the time I give up, unable to banish her from my mind. There was a connection between us, I’m sure of it and I won’t be able to rest until I know for sure if she feels the same. It’s stupid of me to consider I could be of worth to someone, especially when I can’t have a future with her but the longing look in her eyes couldn’t have been my imagination. Even if we have missed the chance to explore it further, I need to know.

  Hopping from the shower cubicle and roughly drying my body, I make quick work of picking out a fresh tracksuit and dressing with hurried fingers. I pause briefly, my fingers still on my fly as I glance around and notice there’s no shadow lurking in the corner. I take in the whole room, hunting for the figure that’s been keeping me company but she’s nowhere to be seen. My untouched pill box on the bedside table is staring back at me and I have to wonder what’s to blame for her sudden disappearance, and if I’m upset by it or not.

  Refocusing on the warm feeling spreading through my limbs and not wasting time with a t-shirt, I zip up my hoodie and leave the room with excitement bubbling within me. I need to lock this shit down, not bound back to her like a giddy school-boy with his first crush. I’ve never lacked a woman to warm my bed at night, but I’ve never had anything close to a connection to one.

  Suddenly remembering I need the key to her cell, the thought crushing the reality of our situation back into me, I jog back to find my discarded jeans on my bedroom floor. My hands search the pockets, my eyebrows creasing as each one comes up empty. Shit, I must have dropped it. Unless…no. There’s no way. She couldn’t have used me…

  Running down the staircase at a speed my feet are unable to keep up with, I ignore the curious glances thrown my way by passing guards and vault myself into the stone stairwell which leads beneath the house. I slow my steps, my heart beating out of tune with anticipation for what I’m about to find. Please let me be wrong about this. Stepping off the final stair, my eyes land on the heavy chain sprawled across the floor, the key still in the padlock hooked into it. Her door is ajar, only darkness lurking within. I’m aware she acted as any prisoner on death row would, but I still can’t help to wonder if it was her fate she was running from or was it me too?

  A hard wall shuts down over my emotions, anger at my own foolishness taking over. How could I have been so stupid?! Of course, she’d never want me, I was just a part of her plans, an obstacle in the way. Figuring she wouldn’t have risked venturing into the main house, I take off in the opposite direction. The floor slopes a little as I’m enveloped in pitch black, unable to see my hand in front of my face as I trail the wall with my fingers. I creep softly, listening for any signs of life up ahead.

  The tunnel twists and winds further than I expected, my hand falling into the air each time I reach a sharp corner. There could be multiple different routes for all I know but I keep following the same wall, trying to keep up a steady pace to find her before Ray realizes she’s missing. I don’t know why I feel the need to protect her, but if I can manage to usher her back into the cell before the guards bring the slop they call her dinner, she won’t need to suffer any more than she already is. Well, until they kill her at least.

  My fingers smooth across the brass hinges of a door in time to stop myself from crashing into it. Wooden grooves and a closed metal sheet over the grate tell me this is the same type of door as the cell’s, the hint of a light inside visible through a couple of widened cracks now I’m looking closer. A muffled scream sounds from inside, my heart thrashing around my rib cage as I recognise Meg’s high-pitch and I heave the door open within needing to think about it.

  A faint bulb dangles from the ceiling glowing across a widened cell. A topless figure has Meg pinned beneath his weight on a wooden bed, his hand covering her mouth. I lunge forward on instinct, ripping him off and throwing him at the wall as adrenaline floods my system. Lifting him by the throat, I punch his face over and over until my own knuckles split on impact, his cheekbone now matching his shattered nose. He doesn’t fight back or resist, hanging limping while I sate my anger on his face. I only stop when his face is covered in his own blood and Meg’s screams finally penetrate the rage that had consumed me.

  Rushing over to her, I notice my t-shirt is hanging open across her chest and I step back to attack him again until Meg’s hand snakes around my arm. Her fingers are trembling against my skin and not from the bitter cold surrounding us. Shedding my hoodie, I ease her into it and scan her body for any physical injuries, relieved to find I must have got here just in time. Kneeling and taking her face in my bloodied hands, I stare deeply into her glazed eyes.

  “It-it’s him. F-f-Fredrick Walters,” tears spill over as she points over to the man now slumped on the floor. Shock slackens my jaw and momentarily freezes me in place, a war of emotions I can’t handle all at once bursting to life within me. Regardless of how I feel about Avery, I would protect her from the piece of scum that stole her childhood any day of the week. Pulling Meg to her feet, I turn to keep her hidden behind my back and link my fingers into hers. To comfort her and to steady myself, the urge to rip his head from his shoulders overwhelming. But first I need to understand what’s going on. Having been recently released from prison and hiding in a forgotten crevice of Ray’s house can’t be a coincidence.

  “Why are you here?” I manage to say evenly, despite my hands tightening around Meg’s.

  “She looks just like her…” his British accent trails off instead of answering me, his eyes fixed on Meg peering around me as he licks his lips suggestively. “Avery was always my favourite. She was different, special….” Unable to listen to him any longer, I step forward and kick my foot directly below the vertical scar lining his chest that Avery gave him all those years ago, making him cough and wheeze. Crouching down, I drag him up by the pathetic bit of hair he has left and growl into his face.

  “How are you in Chicago?” I grit through my teeth. His different coloured eyes land on me as if he hadn’t realized I was here, too wrapped up in his sick fantasies no doubt.

  “I spent six years in a cell like this one,” he looks around fondly as I claw at every inch of patience I can muster, “thinking of her. Needing her. But when I came to visit, I saw her in the car with that woman. The one that stole her from me, and I had to free her. But it didn’t work. Until Ray found me, he’s promised me I can have her
one last time before she is…” A tear slips from his brown eye, mixing with the blood coating his skin as his words untangle in my mind.

  “You were the drunk driver that killed Cathy Hughes, aren’t you?” I whisper in a deadly tone. A fucking smirk pulls at his lips and I snap. Yanking back on his hair, I throw every modicum of rage, grief, anguish, and heartache into my punch to his throat. He splays across the floor, writhing around holding his throat as he gasps for the breath, I’ve made sure he won’t be able to take. Stepping back, I pull Meg into my side and she hugs my waist tightly, burying her face into my shoulder. I stroke her hair gently, my eyes glued on the paedophile before me who is rapidly turning blue, his movements becoming sluggish and involuntary.

  Once his body has stilled and the life has drained from his wide eyes, I edge Meg from the chamber without a trace of regret. We slowly walk back through the maze of corridors in silence, her arms locked around my waist the whole way. Her curves feel so right against me, but I must remind myself I’m merely the only person here. If it weren’t for her bad luck at finding a way out, she’d be long gone and never think of me again. We return to the lit area by the stairs and I feel like I should say something, but she immediately walks out of the comfort of my body and into her cell without a word.

  Pulling the door closed between us, she shifts around inside, and I stand awkwardly, not knowing whether I should stay or leave. Remembering Ray will expect her to be chained inside, even though she would probably stay inside by choice now, I move forward to wind the chain back into position and fix the padlock in place, pocketing the key. Not having a reason to stay, I begin to walk away when her voice finds me.

  “Do you see now, the type of people you are affiliated with?” She is slumped down behind the door so I can’t see her, although I can hear the sobs she’s desperately trying to conceal. My chest aches and I feel the strange need to help, but it’s no use. She’s mostly likely hiding away from me as much as anyone else in the mansion.

  “I didn’t want to do any of this,” I confess on a sigh, running a hand over my face, “I just wanted a family. I didn’t have a choice.” Her face appears through the steel bars, her wet eyes blazing with fury.

  “Oh, you had a choice alright, and you chose yourself like the self-centred prick you are. You were saved from a life of who knows what - drugs addiction, abusive pimps, maybe unwanted visitors in your room late night? But like always, you’ve twisted the truth to accommodate your own feelings because you think you’re not worthy of being loved. Have you ever once thought that it was Avery who saved you?” I stand rooted to the spot, unable to deny her words. “She lost the spoilt life you’ve led, being given to that monster and forced to suffer by his hand for years. And now you’ve joined an organisation who openly encourages his kind of behaviour, so well done. You win the biggest fuck-up of the century award.”

  I can’t believe she thinks I would willingly associate myself with such a monster, the hurt in her accusation cutting me worse than the betrayal of her escape did. I open my mouth to bite back when the door at the top of the stairs flies open. There’s a scuffle of multiple pairs of feet speeding down the steps so I jump out of the way. Two burly guards have a greying man held tightly in their grip: his busted lip almost concealed by the long beard hanging from his chin. Baggy shorts and a boldly printed shirt have me dismissing him, until a pair of icy blue eyes glance up at me. Holy shit.

  “Dad?”

  Huxley

  “What do you mean she’s missing?” Dax seethes, bumping chests with me. Garrett and Axel descend the stairs, sleepy eyed and leaning on each other after I tossed them out of bed. A pound of my fist on Dax’s door had been enough to draw him out and meet me down in the central hallway.

  “I’ve searched everywhere, I can’t find her. And then I realized…my car’s gone.” I breathe out a sigh, bracing myself for the onslaught of shouts that never comes. Instead, everyone’s wide eyes dart around in silence as if Avery will pop up and say ‘Psych’. I hadn’t thought much of Avery not being in the bed when I woke as she usually hits the gym first thing, but when she wasn’t in there or the kitchen or anywhere else I looked, a sense of dread filled me.

  “Well it’s obvious where she’ll have gone, we’re in Georgia for fuck’s sake.” Dax runs a hand down his face roughly before pointing at me. “Find that butler, get him to bring a car around and we’ll meet back- “

  “She’s here,” Axel gestures to the orange blur racing past the frosted glass panels on the front door. The tyres screech to a halt as we race forward to open the door, Dax and I bumping shoulders to be the first to give her hell. I rip the door open, a harsh scold dying on my tongue as a blur of blonde runs straight into Dax’s body. He’s forced back a step, bracing his arms around her as she cries. I pry my keys from her grip, locking my car in its slanted position with a curve of skid marks trailing behind on the driveway.

  Garrett and Axel close in either side of Dax, crushing Avery between them all in a group hug. Her sobs lessen while I stand awkwardly on the outside. Fuck it, I shove my way in behind her and wind my arms around her waist, Garrett and Axel drawing me in with their hands on my back. The lime scent of our shower gel fills my nose as I nuzzle into her neck, her body trembling beneath us as she focuses on breathing deeply.

  “They’ve taken Nixon,” she eventually murmurs. Dax kisses her forehead, his hair tickling my face and Axel whimpers softly into my ear like a wounded animal. “He was at the house, grabbing fake passports to run and I don’t think he ever planned on coming back. But then some men came and I hid- “she hiccups, her choked sobs beginning to return. Dax draws her from the cage of our bodies, leading her into the living room while we follow as if an invisible tether is pulling us along. Tugging her down onto his lap on the sofa, I veer into the kitchen to make her an overly sweet tea.

  Returning with the steaming mug in my hands, I find Avery curled into Axel’s side with Garrett staring into space on his other side. Placing the cup onto a glass coffee table, I slide in beside her and take her hand in mine.

  “Where’s Dax?” I ask, only receiving a shake of the head from Axel as he mouths ‘don’t ask.’ I roll my eyes, knowing Avery came to her senses and sent him away like usual. Those two need locking in a room until they’ve solved their petty arguments and I’m half the mind to do it. A blind man could sense the overriding tension between them, and that level of friction can only form between two people with a real connection, something worth fighting for.

  Garret re-joins us in the room, turning his head as if he’s only just noticed I’m here. He doesn’t hide his scowl at seeing Axel stroke Avery’s hair and I could believe he was jealous if he were capable of such emotion. Garrett doesn’t do jealously because he doesn’t give a shit about anything or anyone enough, he glides through life with no strings to tie him down and I almost hate him for it. How freeing it must be to only care about yourself.

  Leaning forward, he lifts the cup and transfers it into Avery’s hands, so she’s forced to sit upright, before grabbing the tv remote and switches on the large screen opposite us. Axel retracts his arm from Avery’s shoulders so she can sit back fully, which gives Garrett a green light to pull him into his own body protectively. A rerun of Fresh Prince of Bel Air has started, filling the silence with Will Smith’s fictionalized self-taunting his cousins.

  I feel the need to say something, anything that could reassure Avery. But I won’t give her false promises. I can’t promise to get Meg or Nixon back safety and I definitely can’t promise not to kill Wyatt the second I see him again, knowing full well it’s Avery’s right to make him suffer. Everything is so fucked, but she’s safe so I selfishly sit here with the comforting curve of her body pressed against my arm and simply enjoy the moment.

  ∞∞∞

  Dead on 5pm, the front doors burst open and the group of teenager’s spill into the hallway to work for the weekend. I lean forward on the bannister, watching curiously as they all spilt off to f
ind the rooms they’ve claimed. Their laughter and excitement make this place feel more like a frat house, a pair of guys pushing and bumping each other to race up the stairs. Top Knot is the last to enter, closing the doors and inhaling deeply, the smile on his face Joker-worthy. Spotting me, he jogs up the stairs and crosses the hallway to clasp me on the shoulder like old friends.

  “Hey Huxley! Thank fuck it’s Friday, am I right?” He winks, strolling past to enter the bedroom beside mine. Halting in the doorway, he looks back to me with his wicked smile still in place. “You know, you should join us tonight. It’s a hell of a thrill.”

  “Join you doing what?” I ask, my interest piqued.

  “In the auction, duh. Friday night is auction night, hordes of thirsty middle-aged women with more money than sense. Some bid for a few of us at once and they pay double if you need to sign an NDA to stop you blabbing to their husbands.” His body is practically shaking with enthusiasm as he bobs his eyebrows at me.

  “Even if I did need the money, there’s no way in hell I’d pimp myself out to a pack of desperate cougars.”

  “Maybe so, but it’s about more than just the money. You can live out your darkest fantasies, nothing’s off limits and these ladies are always gagging for more and more. Think about it, we head to the ballroom in an hour. Dress smart.” He throws me another wink before disappearing, his cocky demeanour irritating me. Confused and more than a little disturbed, I slowly edge towards Axel’s door, dodging streams of excited ladies running in and out of each other’s rooms in their underwear. Many stops in their tracks, freely exploring my body with their eyes and running off giggling, leaving me feeling oddly exposed in my gym vest and shorts.