Devilishly Damaged

by Abigail Cole

  “Are you alright?” Meg asks, her pale blue eyes checking me over. She takes my arm and starts to pull me towards the staircase. I shake my head, pulling her to a stop.

  “I’m not letting them ruin our night Meg.” Looking around the room, my eyes land on what I was searching for with a smile. I point out the bored, average Joe pretending to check a text on his phone by the kitchen door. “Designated driver,” I bob my eyebrows at her, and she returns my smirk.

  “But you look like shit,” she giggles, wringing some of the water out of my hair onto the hardwood floor. I shrug, carefully pulling her over the safety hazard she’s just created and towards our ticket out of here tonight. I doubt there will be many times the “Shadowed Souls” will be distracted so I am going to make the most of it.

  “Excuse me?” I ask politely, batting my eyelashes. The lanky guy’s eyes widen at the two girls talking to him, his mouth dropping open slightly before he composes himself. Up close, I see his cheeks are lined with acne scars and his fluffy hair is an unfortunate shade of orange. “This party sucks. Could you give us a ride out of here?” His eyes flick around the room, seeming to search for whichever friend he is waiting for – and then deciding to ditch him as he leads the way to the front door.

  “Where do you want to go?” He asks while opening the back door of his electric blue Hyundai for Meg and me to scoot into the back before closing it behind us. Who said chivalry is dead? Dropping into the driver’s seat, we try to hide our sniggers as the vehicle takes a few attempts to get the engine to turn over before we start to drive out of the gates and down the street.

  “If you could go anywhere right now, where would you go?” Meg asks our driver, considering we hadn’t thought this far into our escape plan. He pulls up at a red light, tilting his head side to side in thought.

  “Erm…McDonald’s?” The poor boy jumps out of his skin at our sudden screams of agreement. The light turns green and he shifts into the left-hand lane to take the turn towards the closest drive thru.

  “You’re my new best friend, um, what’s your name?” I pat him on the shoulder.

  “Mike,” he smiles at me in the rear-view mirror. Although a little slow, I enjoy the ten-minute ride of freedom, knowing it will be my last for a while. After receiving our food, Mike parks up in a space below the orange glow of a streetlamp and passes out our orders.

  “I will pay you back for this and your fuel,” I promise but Mike shakes his head at me, looking offended.

  “No way! This is the coolest night of my life, I got to save two beautiful girls from a dickwad’s lame party and buy them fast food at 3am. Don’t take that away from me.” I laugh and shrug, happy he is easily pleased. I shove fries into my face, torn between wanting to savour the heavenly taste but also being beyond starving. Susie has me on a strict diet during the week to accompany my training and hobbies, approved by Nixon. The weekends are the only time I cook for myself, usually something battered or fried in butter. But nothing compares to the taste of spontaneous Maccy D’s in a car park with a stranger, whilst dripping wet and half drunk.

  “Don’t you have a girlfriend, Mike?” I ask, sipping my banana milkshake through a stupid paper straw that goes soggy almost instantly.

  “Oh yeah, I left her at the party.” Meg and I both freeze and gape at him, but Mike bursts into laughter with a snort. We lose ourselves to our own hysterics, laughing harder than I have in months. “No, not me.” He says when we eventually calm down, pointing miserably to his own face.

  “Aww, don’t do that,” Meg says. “You’re such a-“

  “If you say, “nice guy”, you can walk home,” he air quotes with his fingers and smiles sadly at us. Meg turns her wide blue eyes to mine, passing the message of ‘shit, that’s exactly what I was gonna say’ through our mental link.

  “It’s okay, don’t worry about it. Nice guys always finish last.” At that the truth. Lifting his plastic cup, we all say cheers ‘to nice guys’. I give up with my stupid straw, throwing the lid in the paper bag and gulp down my milkshake like a savage. I have five very not-nice guys waiting at my house for me to return, but there’s no way I’m going to hide away. I’ve survived worse than those goons, so bring it on.

  Wyatt

  “Wrap this shit up, I’m bored,” I tell Dax from the lounger I’ve been on for hours. I tried to enjoy myself, but something about being here kills the mood for me. I haven’t seen Axel or Garrett since the pizza ran out, so I imagine they are balls deep in some of the many desperate chicks who answered our open invite on Facebook. Or maybe sharing the same one, knowing their preferences.

  Watching his afro bounce with every step, Dax pulls the cable from the speakers and yells for everyone to get the fuck out. I smirk at his subtleness and shake the girls off my legs. I can’t stand being clung to by leeches, preferring the thrill of a challenge before I let a girl into my bed. Chucking my shades onto the grass and shedding my jacket, they whine and moan as I stand and leave them behind on the ground, clawing for me.

  “Avery and her sidekick aren’t in her room,” Huxley joins my side in a fresh t-shirt and jeans, water droplets from his long hair dripping onto his shoulders. I look over into his brown eyes suspiciously, wondering where the fuck she would have gone. The sky above us is starting to lighten with a mix of pastel pink and blues.

  “Check the garage for Meg’s car. It’ll be the cheapest one there.” I order, walking inside with Hux. He walks through the archway to the right as both Garrett and Axel stroll in topless, a leggy woman with vibrant red hair and tattoo’s trailing them before veering for the exit without looking back. Dax joins us having successfully kicked everyone out, a bottle of beer in his hand.

  “There’s a sickly pink BMW down there with fluffy handcuffs hooked on the rear-view mirror, I’m guessing that Meg’s car.” Hux announces, re-joining our group.

  “What’s going on?” Axel asks, one eyebrow cocking above his unusual amber eyes as he runs a hand over his shaved head.

  “The girls are missing,” Hux answers for me. Side glances are exchanged but my patience is wearing incredibly thin. I haven’t even begun my tormenting; Avery is not getting away from me that easily.

  “Search the house and grounds, they are probably hiding out until the party finished. When you find her, bring her to me.” We all nod and begin to disperse in different directions, until clambering at the main door draws our attention. Holding her shoes in her hand, Avery walks into the living room with Meg trotting behind her, the clicking of her heels echoing in the room. The pair attempt to ignore us, moving straight for the staircase.

  “Where have you been?” I ask like a fretful mother, forcing the pair to stop and face me. The guys surround them, Garrett moving onto the stairs and folding his arms to block their ascent. Avery’s attention lingers on Huxley, her eyes throwing daggers at him before she looks at me with the same hatred.

  “We were with a guy,” she shrugs. Her mascara is still smeared down her cheeks, her straight hair slightly frizzing from drying naturally.

  “Just one guy?” Garrett questions from the step above them, his eyes glinting with interest. Irritation bleeds through me as he openly checks out my ‘sister’. Sure, I noticed her too earlier. As soon as she stepped onto the dance floor, I couldn’t look away from her curves as she swayed her hips and drank in the attention of every male around her without even looking at them. Her toned legs had looked lickable in black stilettos, so I had to have Hux ugly her up a bit. Not that it seems to have worked.

  “I’m tired,” I fake a yawn, stretching my arms above my head so my six-pack peeks out from under my white t-shirt. I smirk when I catch her noticing, but quickly wonder why the fuck I’d be happy about that. “Tidy this place up.” I demand gruffly, striding back outside to put some distance between us.

  I hear the pair protest and argue, but I know my men will make sure they follow through with my order one way or another. Our group doesn’t have a leader, just a mutual understanding
we will back each other in every way possible. Only Huxley has famous parents like me. Starring in movies himself as a child, until he realised at 15 that his folks were stealing his royalties and was legally emancipated. The other’s parents are all too invested in their careers to remember they have children, which makes our dynamic living together perfect.

  Settling back on the lounger, I put my shades on so I can discreetly keep an eye on her. Meg steps barefoot onto the stone patio, moving towards the tables littered with cans and bottles with a bin bag in her hand. Bending over to pick up discarded cigarette butts, her PVC trousers are so tight that they look painted straight onto her legs and ass.

  “I’m having my bedroom re-decorated,” I shout over, “if you want to help me give it a test run.” Standing, Meg flips up her middle finger without turning to face me and continues to collect up the rubbish. Screaming from inside makes me sit up and lower my shades.

  “Don’t touch me!” I’m on my feet and inside before I realise that I’ve moved, with Meg barging me out of the way and running over to her friend. On the stairs, Gare swiftly releases Avery and raises his hands in innocence.

  “She tried to run,” he says quickly, clearly as surprised by my gut reaction to run to her aid as I am. Rolling my neck and shoulders, I try to loosen my posture and get a hold of myself. Avery’s lips are pinched together tightly, her expression and heavy breathing seeming more feral than human.

  “This is ridiculous. Even your thugs are exhausted, and this mess will still be here when we wake up.” Dax tries to stifle a yawn and Hux is running a hand over his face in an attempt to stay awake. I suppose I should have considered my men have flown over a thousand miles with no notice and partied with me all night.

  “Fine. You can go to bed.” Dropping their garbage bags, the pair bolt up the stairs past Gare. “However,” I say to make them pause near the top, “I know there’s no staff in on weekends, and I still expect breakfast for all of us on that table at 10am sharp.” I point to the long dining table that’s hardy used through the kitchen doorway. Avery opens her mouth to protest until Meg pulls on her arm and warns her to stay quiet with a glare. Rolling her eyes, they continue along the landing and disappear out of sight.

  Hopping down the last step, Gare strolls into the kitchen as the others make their way toward me. Dax and Hux clasp shoulders before heading towards the stairs, leaving Axel to stroke his hand through my hair. Shaking him off chuckling, I say “sweet dreams,” knowing we won’t be seeing him until late tomorrow afternoon. Strolling into the kitchen and planting myself on a stool, I watch Gare raid the fridge. Turning with a large tub of yoghurt in his hand, he grins at my cocked eyebrow.

  “What? Breakfast isn’t for another 5 hours.” I laugh and shake my head at him while he moves to sit next to me. Garrett’s parents may be as rich as the rest of ours, but they weren’t thoughtful enough to ensure he was cared for while they constantly travelled for work. Truancy officers finally found the small, starving boy in his empty manor house. It was a huge scandal that left Gare dumped in boarding school with a huge trust fund and eventually, brought him to Waversea to study forensic science.

  “I saw the way you were looking at Avery earlier. I don’t feel like I should have to say this, but don’t fuck my sister.” Gare snorts at me, trying to hide a smile as he shovels a spoonful of yogurt into his mouth.

  “Now she’s your sister? Maybe you should be having his prep-talk with yourself, considering the way you were looking at her.” I punch him in the shoulder, although not with as much anger as I should feel at his accusation. Regardless of what the adoption paperwork says, I’ve never been able to see Avery as my sibling. That girl is merely a cretin living the life meant for me.

  “I look at her with hate and contempt, because that’s all she deserves.” Gare’s eyebrows rise, his dimples deepening with his shit eating grin. Leaving him to gorge himself, I slide off the stool and head for the door when his voice stops me.

  “It’s not me you need to warn anyway. She’s already seen Hux naked,” Gare’s laughter sounds while I storm out of the house. Fisting my hair, I clench my teeth and try to control my breathing. Staring into the cloudless sky above, I decide my mixed emotions are more to do with losing my mum than the blonde haired, blue eyed temptress sleeping soundly upstairs.

  The night I’d received the call about her car crash, I’d completely lost it. Crying like a child into the arms of my brethren, the pain of missed opportunities slicing me open inside. She had tried to reach out to me so many times and I’d turned her down. Even the last time I was here, I was too busy on a phone call to Huxley to give her a proper kiss goodbye.

  But the next morning, I woke in an awkward position on the floor sandwiched between Dax and Axel (which we will never speak of again) and realised that nothing had actually changed. My classes continued, we had a basketball match to prepare for and my father still favoured his adopted child over me. The only difference was one less caller ID lighting up my phone once a week. I put an iron cage around my heart that day and haven’t indulged my feelings since.

  Heading into the pool house, the chemical scent of paint tingles my nose. I grab a pair of sweatpants from my suitcase, after the courier finally delivered our bags last night. We were last on his list, a mistake that will cost him his job by the time I’ve finished talking to his manger tomorrow. Stuffing my legs into the comfortable material, I drag my t-shirt off and replace it with an unzipped hoodie, leaving my body bare underneath. Returning to my lounger, I set the alarm on my phone for 9:45am and beg sleep to take me away from my thoughts for a while.

  The smell of bacon fills my senses, disorientating me briefly. I imagine Susie downstairs humming to herself while she plates up my breakfast. “Master Hughes!” she would sing, making me a smile as I slink down the stairs in my satin pyjamas. “Eat up. Your parents are due home from London today. I wonder what they will bring back for you this time.” My eyes fly open at the memory of exactly what they brought back. But she definitely wasn’t for me.

  My bare feet slap against the tiles as I enter the kitchen, eyeing an overly cheerful Gare sitting at the head of the table with his knife and fork at the ready.

  “Have you been in here all morning?” I ask, snatching a mug of black coffee from the counter and sitting beside him. His smug smile is almost enough to lift my mood, but not before at least my first morning coffee.

  “No, he leered over the bed waiting for us to wake up like some stalker psychopath.” Meg grumbles, the dark patches under her eyes and squint signalling a hangover. Banging my hands loudly on the table, she winces and grabs the side of her head. Unfortunately for Meg, she will be dragged down along with her friend while she insists on sticking around.

  Relieving her friend from frying, Avery passes her an ice pack and dismisses her back to bed. Shaking her head, Meg settles for sitting on a stool nursing a steaming mug like some miracle cure. Avery, on the other hand, seems unaffected by the alcohol she consumed last night or her lack of sleep. Her face is completely free of make-up, her hair twisted into a high messy bun and she’s wearing a grey baggy sweatshirt saying, “bite me”. Rounding the island with a plate in each hand at 10am sharp, I notice her legs are completely bare, the hem of her sweatshirt just covering her ass.

  “Damn,” Huxley breathes as he enters the room with Dax. Both are only wearing lounge pants and slippers as if they co-ordinated. I shoot Hux a scowl that has him redirecting his eyes while taking a seat opposite us. Placing coffee orders without glancing her way again, we tuck into the stacks of pancakes and bacon in the centre of the table in silence. I hate to admit the food is good, but fuck, it is. Loading my second portion with replenished pancakes, fresh strawberries and whipped cream, Avery and Meg attempt to slip out of the room.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” I demand. Glancing at me over her shoulder with a classic resting bitch face, Avery sighs and turns to face me.

  “We have an appointment.” She shrugs,
Meg nodding behind her.

  “What kind of an appointment would you have on a Sunday?” I question. She exchanges a look with her minion nervously.

  “A ladies’ appointment,” she points to her crotch with both hands, making the men around me clear their throats uncomfortably. But I have a feeling that is the exact response she wanted.

  “Fine,” I hide my smile behind my coffee mug. “Dax will drive you.”

  Avery

  “Seriously, we’re good. I’m driving us,” Meg pipes up from beside me. I can’t believe this arsehole wants to mess with my plans today of all days. He shakes his head of messy brunette hair at me.

  “My father told me to keep you safe, so I insist. Either Dax drives you, or you don’t go.” His emerald eyes are challenging me to back down, but I’ve put too much preparation into today to cancel now. I might not get another chance. I plaster a fake smile across my face and lean into Meg for support.

  “Okay, that’s perfect actually. Meg didn’t really want to sit by my side while I have my pap smear anyway. I need to leave in 10 minutes.” Dax practically chokes on his food as we turn and hurry back to my room, closing the door tightly behind me. I rush to throw on loose fitting cargo pants and stuff my feet into my white Converse.

  “What are you going to do?” Meg asks in a whisper, following me to my vanity as I brush my hair out. She takes the brush to do her own hair and starts to strip off her pjs.

  “It’ll be fine. Just go in your car, I’ll meet you there for 11. I promise.” She nods and chucks her clothes into her backpack while I check routes on my phone. Satisfied with my improvised plan, I shove my phone into the low side pocket of my cargos and pass Meg my purse to take so I can travel light.

  As soon as I open my door, we slow to a casual stroll and make our way to the underground garage via a door beneath the staircase. I smile at her with more reassurance than I feel in the elevator, the doors opening to reveal Dax already leaning against the orange Nissan they arrived in. With a quick kiss to her cheek, Meg hops into her pink BMW with a “love you” like she always does.