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

by Abigail Cole

  “Deal.”

  ∞∞∞

  Meg rubs my wrists as we walk until the sensation returns enough for me to move my fingers. I hadn’t realised how awkward my restrained position had been until I was released from the cuffs, my shoulders screaming with stiffness as I’d first tried to move. Perelli’s phone is glued to his ear as he leads us through the busy casino with one of his goons up front, our two failed rescuers and another set of guards following behind while lights flash at us from all directions.

  Except for the musical tunes filtering through the rows of slot machines, the casino is oddly quiet, cautious glances being thrown our way. This is a haven for the serious gamblers who have some serious cash to blow. I notice the security by the main door peering through the glass curiously, probably wondering why I’m being given a tour by the owner after two guards had rushed out upon seeing me and dragged me inside.

  I lean into Meg, eager to be as close as possible until the inevitable end. I’m not an idiot, I know Perelli won’t let us go free or will find a way to cheat but this charade is solely for Dax’s benefit. He clearly needed to burst in and be my faithful knight but letting him play a crooked gangster for my life would only have made his mourning for me that much harder. Hopefully, this way, he’ll be able to grieve knowing he tried his best and it was my stubbornness that caught up to me in the end.

  Pushing through a set of double doors, we pass through a hotel lobby and all squeeze into a normally spacious elevator. Dax’s fingers find mine in the crowd, so I grip onto his firmly, giving him the last bit of comfort he needs. I don’t let the image of how life could have been between us enter my mind, banishing it before the longing starts.

  The doors slide open to reveal a long corridor, black carpet with silver logos lining the floor to match the casino. The closed doors either side are gleaming white, black flourishes surrounding fancy numbers as we approach the one at the far end. The four of us huddle together in the doorway like penguins desperate for reassurance in the face of a raging storm. My eyes flick around yet another lavish space, not that I expected any less. Every inch of the casino is dripping with money and the hotel is no different.

  A green felt table sits before a wall of glass facing an incredible view of Chicago, people as small as ants going about their business below. The day is that perfect mix of sunny yet fresh, a gentle breeze flowing through various open top windows which makes me long for a picnic in the park. Four brown leather chairs have been placed around the table with a deck of cards still in the cellophane placed in the centre already prepared for our arrival.

  The tension in the room is thick enough to choke on and there’s so many things we need to say but no one moves or speaks until Perelli has shuffled with the use of his cane and takes a seat across the table. Dax’s fingers are yanked away from mine as guards shove the pair over to a cream corner sofa across the room and I instantly miss his touch. No turning back now, I stride over to drop into the chair opposite the old man, ready to see what fate has in store for me. Meg lands next to me in the next second, a guard roughly pushing her down while Perelli unwraps the cards and begins to shuffle.

  “Who’s the other chair for?” I ask to fill the awkward silence. Perelli nods to a guard who has taken position by a door through the living area, who promptly enters the room and returns a moment later with a slumped figure held up in his meaty hands. Holy shit.

  Wyatt is barely recognisable except for his hair flicking forward into his swollen eyes. Blood coats his cheeks, a bend to his mid-section and limp in his left leg speaking of further hidden injuries. And fuck I know I should want to laugh and cheer, but my heart squeezes at the sight. Meg’s gasp grabs my attention, her hand clamping over her mouth and tears rising in her pale blues. I watch curiously, figuring she’d be rooting for his suffering more than any of us. Wyatt is led to Meg’s side and willingly slumps in the seat, groaning from the movement. She reaches over to grasp his hand, rubbing her thumb over his split knuckles where he clearly tried to fight back.

  “You two-faced motherf-“ Garrett’s words are cut short and his attempt to dive from the sofa is thwarted by a direct punch to the jaw, courtesy of the guard watching the two of them like a hawk. There is way too much testosterone in this room for my liking and my foot taps impatiently.

  “Come on then, let’s get this over with.” I urge. Perelli chuckles, still absentmindedly shuffling the deck in his bony fingers.

  “You amuse me little Avery. It’s been a long time since a female has shown more balls than one pledged as my own. But I prefer my chances three to one. All three of you can play for the chance to relieve your father of his crime against me. One game. If you beat me as the house, you will walk out that door and never see me again. But if you lose, you are to come willingly.” I nod in agreement, holding his eye as he begins to deal out the cards and a silence falls over the room.

  An ace is placed in front of Wyatt, who can barely open his eyes to see, a nine for Meg and ten of spades for me. Perelli places another ace in front of himself with a smirk. Shit. Everyone holds their breath as the jack of diamonds is placed before Wyatt and releases him from our father’s debt. He instantly leans into Meg, uttering apologies, and reassuring words I force myself to block out. Eavesdropping has never been my style, but his words sound too private for even the nosiest of people to pry on.

  The four of hearts is dealt for Meg next, and a seven to me. I keep my poker face solid, not betraying the rising panic for Meg’s hand. I know she isn’t a fan of blackjack, but we’ve practiced enough during our time at the safe house for her to make a rational decision. Perelli finally lays a face-down card next to his ace and links his fingers together beneath his chin.

  “I’ll stick,” I say first, looking over to Meg with raised eyebrows. Come on, you’ve got this. There’s still hope.

  “Hit me,” she breathes, a quiver in her small voice that has Wyatt pulling her into his lap. I’ve definitely missed something here but she’s not resisting so I leave it for now. Picking the top card from the deck, the shining silver bridge logo stamped across that too, Perelli slowly leans forward and turns it at the last moment to reveal the ten of spades. Bust.

  A sob bubbles from Meg’s lips, Wyatt crushing her into his body and cradling her gently. Perelli’s wicked smile has my teeth grinding together, the urge to leap across the table and strangle the bastard overwhelming. But men as powerful as him always have a second in command, briefed and ready to step into his vacant spot and continue his work. Flipping his last card over, the three of clubs’ glares at me as all the breath leaves my body. I’m safe. I open my mouth to protest, or even beg and grovel for another round if that’s what it takes for only me to be on the chopping block, when Wyatt beats me to it.

  “I’ll take Meg’s place.” I stare at him, stunned, and confused by his words. A cut on his lip has reopened, blood streaming down his chin and onto Meg’s chestnut hair and she cries into his shoulder. Surely, she should be seeking comfort from me? The one who’s fought tooth and nail to find her, the one who came to be with her and half her suffering. Not Wyatt, who kidnapped her in the first place and doesn’t have a thoughtful bone in his body - right? Perelli starts to shake his head but Wyatt gently eases Meg back into her seat and rises with a grunt.

  “You know ending my life would prove more satisfying to you. A traitor you can torture and make suffer for as long as it takes before my heart gives out. Why would you take a helpless gazelle when you could mount a lion’s head above your mantle place?” A tense moment passes, the cogs turning in Perelli’s mind visible through his cold eyes.

  “So be it.” Using the table to push himself upright, two guards rush to Perelli’s sides while one unnecessarily grasps Wyatt’s arm, despite the fact he’s not resisting. Meg lurches upright, clinging onto his body tight enough to make him wince. Kissing the top of her head, he bends to whisper in her ear as Perelli rounds the table and this time I can’t help but listen to what he has to say.<
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  “Live life for the both of us, Sweetness.”

  I hurry to hold her back as Wyatt twists free of her grip and leaves with Perelli. The second the guard watching the boys turns to leave too, Garrett attacks. Jumping on his back, he tries to catch the guard in an arm lock but the hefty guard peels him off like a jacket and slams him into a wooden coffee table. The furniture splinters and cracks under Garrett’s weight, not that it keeps him down. Dax surprisingly steps forward and delivers a clean punch to the guard’s face, knocking him back a few steps while Garrett sweeps him legs out from beneath him.

  Meg writhes and claws at my arms as I struggle to restrain her, screaming Wyatt’s name as he reaches the elevator at the other end of the corridor and turns back to look at her. Placing his hand over his heart, the doors draw closed and she collapses to the floor crying harder than I’ve ever seen her cry before.

  The scuffle to my right ceases with the guard getting the upper hand and thumping Garrett’s skull with a solid fist, striding from the room with taut shoulders while Dax rushes over to Garrett’s unconscious form. My head is spinning from trying to process everything that happened and my heart torn in multiple directions but clearly my twin is my priority. She’s the reason I came and she’s safe from harm, although I don’t feel as relieved about that now she’s hunched over and washing the carpet with her tears. Dropping to my knees, I stroke her back and bend forward to push her hair behind her ear.

  “What the fuck was all that about?” Her tear-streaked face turns to me, more emotion than I’ve ever seen etched in the pale depths of her irises. She struggles to catch a full breath, choking on her own sobs as her cracked voice washes over me.

  “I love him.” The truth of her words washes over me, a determination rising to the surface. I’d once thought love wasn’t real, but more of a fantasy people buy into to live content lives side by side. A way for those who are uncomfortable with their own company and have a deep-rooted fear of being eaten by their twenty-two cats to feel complete. But not now I can feel through our twin bond the sincerity of her emotion. Meg’s eyes are pleading me to help, the endless flow of tears confirming my suspicion – if Wyatt dies tonight, so will Meg’s spirit. Life for her will be empty and monotone, no colour worth seeing or flower worth smelling.

  Sneaking a glance over to the boys, I see Dax is still trying to wake a blissfully sleeping Garrett behind the pile of shattered wood that was until recently a rather sturdy coffee table. Shoving the heels from her feet and gripping Meg’s under arm, I mouth for her to move and we quickly dash forward in crouched positions. I stop quickly to remove the key from the back of the door, pulling it shut and rushing to lock it on the other side. Dax’s fists pound on the other side in a second, yelling for me to return this instant but he must know that won’t be happening. Even if I was obedient enough to follow instructions, he still doesn’t seem to understand cutting ties with me earlier rather than later will be in his best interest.

  We race through the corridor, my heart pounding in my chest as Meg reaches the elevator first, jabbing her finger on the button repeatedly until the doors finally open. The sound of wood crashing jerks me around, Dax’s furious expression now visible through a fist shaped hole. Unable to resist, even though I really shouldn’t poke the beast I’ve never seen in him before, I blow him a flirty kiss as the doors slide closed and block me from his view.

  I’ve figured out why The Shadowed Souls are drawn to me. They think I need saving. I’ve often thought men are more affected by fairy tales than the ladies, boosting their noble intentions and giving them a false sense of purpose to always be the saviour, even when the damsel is more than capable of saving herself. Would prefer to, in fact.

  Bursting into the lobby, we race across the marble and spill into the car park beyond. Halfway running towards the Nissan, I stop and feel around in my pockets. Fuck! I was frisked upon entering the seedy lounge, too caught up in searching for my twin to realize those pig-headed guards must have taken Huxley’s keys. Meg whirls around, panic in her eyes while her dress flaps wildly in the strengthening wind. I don’t know what to do, my brain going completely blank as I hunt for an answer.

  A red Mini speeds along the central row among the parked cars, skidding to a halt between Meg and I. A brunette woman in the driver’s seat reaches back to pop open her rear and swings her brown eyes back to me.

  “Get in, I’ll take you to him.” I don’t move, looking to Meg over the Mini and then back to the middle-aged woman. The long hair falling to her waist stands out against her pale skin, freckles covering her entire face in that unusually pretty way.

  “Who are you?” I ask when all other words fail me.

  “I’m Sydney Perelli, and I know exactly where they are headed.”

  Sydney

  “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…” mom’s sweet voice wakes me from a wonderful dream, my lips curving into a smile before opening my eyes. “Happy birthday to Sydney, happy birthday to you.” She places a kiss on my forehead as I roll onto my back, cracking my eyelids to see her wide smile. Noticing the tray in her hands, I sit up and shuffle over to let her sit down on my mattress.

  “Mom, I’m ten now. I’m getting too old for you sing me awake,” I giggle, taking the plate of eggs and bacon forming a smiley face from her hands. She is the best.

  “I don’t care if you’re a hundred and ten, you’ll always be my baby and I’ll sing to you all I want.” Her brown eyes have crinkled in the corners with her huge grin. “Eat up and get ready sweetie, your father has a surprise planned for you.” He does? He doesn’t normally pay me much attention other than to ensure I always have the latest gadget or fashion trends. We’re the only family in the community to have our own computer at home. I’m a reflection on his worth, so if I’m not dripping with money then he looks bad. Sounds great, but with all the guards and visitors we have, it means I can never just lounge around in my pyjamas.

  My family isn’t like the others I see at the school gates. I don’t get invited round houses for play dates or to join the kids that go to the park every Friday afternoon. No one talks to my mom either, they huddle together and whisper and sometimes point. Even the teacher treats me differently, she always picks me first or lets me go to lunch before everyone else but sometimes when she thinks I’m not looking, she huffs and rolls her eyes as if she doesn’t really like me.

  My mom pulls a bag out from under my bed and hands it to me. I forget about my breakfast, reaching inside to pull out a pair of denim dungarees. No way! These are the fashion right now; everyone will think I’m so cool! I jump up to hug her, feeling all giggly and excited inside.

  “Let’s get you dressed; you don’t want to keep your dad waiting.” I see the tightness of her lips, but I bet that’s because my surprise is a huge party and she’s not used to having so many people around. I’ve never had a birthday party, but I’ve been secretly hoping this year I’ll get one. I’ll walk outside and there will be a bouncy castle and a magician and a petting zoo and a whole table of cake and ice cream. But best of all, all the kids in my class will be there waiting to play with me. Not like when we are in lesson and they avoid sitting near me as if they are scared.

  Mom pushes me into the bathroom to wash and then braids my hair while I pull on the dungarees and snap the metal links together over my white t-shirt. When I’m finished, Mom takes my face in her hands and kisses me on the forehead, her smile seeming sad and her eyes glistening a little. After strapping on my sneakers, I skip from my room and down the huge staircase.

  We moved into our house when I was in second grade, after Daddy had it built especially. I’ve always thought it was too big though, since he is away for work a lot so it’s just me and mom unless you count the guards. There’s been a lot of new ones lately and they don’t bother with me, but a couple have been around since I was born and they are like strangely quiet uncles who fill the empty gap where the rest of my family should be.

  I hear voice
s in the kitchen so I head that way, looking for balloons or decorations as I go but there isn’t any. Yet. Rounding the corner, I see Charlie, Gunner and Arti sitting around the middle island. Charlie smiles widely, his dark hair brushed to the side so I can see his blue eyes. I’ve always liked Charlie, even though he’s ten years old than me and wears too much jewellery for a man. He’s studying to be a lawyer and goes to some fancy university in the week, so I’m surprised to see him here. Obviously, he had to see me for my birthday.

  Arti reaches out to pat me on the head like a giddy puppy and passes me a small box wrapped in pink foil with a bow double the size of the gift. I hurry to open it, finding a pink bubble watch inside. Its chunky strap is not as heavy as it looks, a gold hand ticking with each second beneath the glass face. I laugh as I put it on, knowing this is Arti’s way of saying stop asking for the time. I know he can’t answer since his nickname is short for ‘inarticulate’, not that I know what that means but it’s probably something to do with the jagged scar across his throat. But still, sometimes I get so lonely and even his irritated frown is better than being ignored completely. Besides, his watch is so flashy he should be happy to show it off.

  “Come on Kiddo, your dad’s already waiting.” I bob up and down while the men pick up their bags and lead me outside, two caddy’s parked side by side waiting for us. I hop in with Charlie, his hair blowing in the wind as we tear across the huge lawn behind the house. We have eighty-two acres of unneeded land, so much daddy had to buy these caddies to get around. I spot a few gardeners dotted around, mowing the grass near the house for my party no doubt.

  We drive towards the woodland area towards the back of our grounds, a clear line of trees standing together like soldiers waiting for an order. I’m not usually allowed to go into the woods, but sometimes when daddy is away, Mom and I will sneak over to hunt for pinecones to paint or hang homemade suet balls for the squirrels and birds.