Devilishly Damaged

by Abigail Cole

  “I have an idea, leave it to me.” I say, standing to pull my phone out of my pocket. Pausing to rub a hand over Axel’s shaved head, I exit the room determined to make him smile again.

  ∞∞∞

  Leaning against the Nissan after sending a message in our group chat to meet me here, I quickly add to bring Avery too. As much as I would rather leave her behind, I can’t watch her from afar. Something about my dad’s warning unsettled me. He’s never threatened to cut me off financially before, which makes me think there’s more to play here than what I’m seeing.

  The elevator doors slide open to reveal a very squashed Avery in the middle of four heavily muscled men. Smirking at her uncomfortable expression, I throw the keys to Huxley to catch with ease. I move over to the passenger side, opening the door when Avery pipes up.

  “Erm…where am I gonna sit?” The two backseats are joined by a raised plastic surface that contains two cup holders and a large speaker. I look around at the others innocently.

  “Maybe we could throw her in the trunk?” I ask, which she squeaks at like a mouse and starts to back up. “Relax, I can’t be bothered to torment you today. Jenson is waiting outside in the Bentley. Do you mind riding with her Gare?” He shakes his head, walking her back towards the elevator. She’s in for a real treat being stuck in an enclosed space with him after he no doubt finished off my portion of mac ‘n’ cheese too.

  The guys laugh as they slide into the vehicle, catching onto my motive. I’ve already given the other driver the address, so I tell Hux to follow him. Turning the music up so the speakers rattle with a pounding bass, we trail the white Bentley 20 miles to a large building on the outskirts of town. If it weren’t for the music I can already hear inside, anyone would think the old structure was derelict. Graffiti covers the exterior and more than one window is boarded over.

  Spilling out of the car in front as soon as it has stopped, Avery coughs and heaves while we fall into hysterics. Gare shrugs at us through the windscreen as if he doesn’t know what’s happened to her, before smiling widely enough for his dimples to show. Recovering too quickly for my liking, Avery’s eyes light up as she recognises where we are. My parents had brought us here a few times that first summer to try to get us to ‘bond’.

  We jump out in time to see the disgustingly pink BMW pull up alongside us. Meg hops out, her hair in half a ponytail with the rest of the brunette waves covering her shoulders. Dressed in black as she usually is, a tight tank top shows off her curves above a denim mini skirt and tights leading into biker boots.

  “You invited her?” Avery asks me in confusion.

  “Don’t get too excited. I just wanted to have some available eye candy around.” Since Avery is completely off limits, if only my dick would get the memo. Leading the group into the building, I see that absolutely nothing has changed.

  Strobe lighting bounces around a polished wooden floor fills the centre of the hall, sectioned off by red ropes. The back of the room has a small diner next to an arcade, every machine switched on. Random popcorn and candy floss machines are scattered amongst tables and chairs. Ed’s roller disco was once the place to be on a Friday night, how the mighty have fallen. After putting a call into the owner, and offering him a fat cheque for his troubles, we now have this place fully stocked and staffed to ourselves for the rest of the day.

  Running over to the skate hire booth to our left like a bunch of children, I follow my brothers to request my required shoe size from the punky girl behind the desk. I also notice an on-hand arcade assistant, the DJ and kitchen and serving staff in the diner are present. Accepting my skates with a wink that makes her blush beneath her layers of make-up, I sit in a nearby chair to pull them onto my feet and tie the laces.

  Avery and Meg make it onto the rink first, hand in hand while they skate and sway to the music. Lifting her arms above her head, Avery’s sweatshirt rises to reveal the top of her skin-tight leggings leaving nothing to the imagination. Flicking my eyes to Meg, I force myself to appreciate her body instead, fully aware she is usually more my type on paper. Standing, Axel passes by, his fingers lingering on my arm before leading the way onto the rink.

  The first glide of the wheels beneath my feet shifts something inside me. The stress that’s been weighing on my chest lately is already beginning to lift with the anticipation of actually having some fun. Speeding around the oval, I bump shoulders with Gare to start off a race that the others quickly join while the girls dance in the centre. This feels good, right even. To be free to live the life I was meant to have.

  ‘Yeah’ by Usher starts to play, gaining our shouts of approval. Moving my shoulders in time with Axel and Hux, my cheeks begin to hurt from smiling for this long and I don’t plan on letting it drop any time. Dax sets up his phone, begging us to do a new TikTok shuffle craze with him. After a couple of practices, we manage to all glide our skates in unison to dance and lip sync in time to the beat of Ludacris’ verse. Showing us the play back, I have to admit the clip looks awesome and the views on it shoot up at an accelerated rate. Pocketing his phone, I follow his gaze to see the girl’s moonwalking backwards on their skates. Avery’s smile is, no damn it, Meg’s smile is lighting up her whole face. I need to get a grip on my thoughts before they get me arrested.

  Rolling to the edge of the rink, I slip my skates off and stride into the arcade in my socks, needing the distraction. Pushing some of the loose change from my pocket into a pinball machine, I feel a presence at my side as soon as I release the first ball.

  “Bet I can get onto the scoreboard before you can,” Gare whispers into my ear, licking my lobe to put me off. I misjudge the flipper and the ball plunges back into the machine. I shove Gare away playfully, spotting another pinball machine across the space and directing him to it with a grin.

  “Loser buys dinner,” I shout at him, to which he replies “Perfect, I’ve already ordered!” Starting up the next game, I somehow lose an hour until Garrett’s hands shoot into the air and he roars in victory. Motherfucker. Running over to me, he scruffs up my hair and bounces into the diner to collect his re-heated prize.

  Looking around the room, I fail to spot the girls. About to lose my temper that’s crept back into me with a vengeance, I notice a pair of petite feet hanging out from one of the booths and exhale deeply. I join my boys at their booth instead, taking a couple of French fries from the bowl in the centre. Huxley is lying on his back, his head in Axel’s lap who is absent-mindedly playing with his hair. Garrett scoots in beside me, nudging me closer to Dax, with a trayful of enough food to feed all of us if he permitted it.

  “Do you think they’re a couple?” Dax asks, gesturing to the girls with his chin. They have re-entered the rink while a slow song plays, dancing together sensually. Avery’s arms are around Meg’s neck, whose hands are planted on Avery’s hips. Spinning in slow circles, the two of them smile lovingly and giggle together.

  “Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss,” Gare starts chanting loudly and pumping his fist in the air, shattering their moment. Happy to put on a show, Meg turns to twerk against her friend’s crotch. Avery spanks her while biting her lip before they start laughing and return to skating side by side.

  “No way, those two know their way around a cock,” Huxley replies from his horizontal position without even looking. His statement bothers me more than I let on, wondering what basis he’s formed his opinion on and silently fuming he might know from experience.

  Avery

  “How have you been? I notice there’s a few changes in your life since we last spoke.” Elena’s brown eyes look at me through her glasses. Her hair is pulled back tightly in a bun, not a strand out of place above a black jumpsuit, an open notepad and pen resting in her lap. One of my favourite aspects of Meg is that she doesn’t tell her mum any of my business, so we can keep our relationship professional.

  “I think I’m doing well considering. My fake brother has been tasked with guarding me until Nixon returns, and has brought his gang of goons with hi
m. But compared to how I may have reacted a few months ago, I’m quite happy with how I’ve handled everything.”

  “Why do you think that is?” She asks. I ponder my answer from a matching leather armchair to the one she is sitting on, both of us in front of the fireplace in Nixon’s office.

  “I guess losing my mum has made me realise life isn’t predicable, neither does it care for routines and structure. I used to look back on…before and think it was my destiny to endure what I did for fate to bring me here. But I can’t believe in fate now.”

  “That’s quite a shift in perspective since our last session. How are things between Wyatt and yourself?” I groan, rolling my eyes. I used to cry to Elena about how Wyatt’s demeanour would make me feel like an intruder. When I’d first heard I would have a sibling, my head filled with images of us playing videogames and setting up pranks together. I was desperate for him to like me. But I’m over that now.

  “He’s being an asshat, as usual. I’m not bothered about trying to have any sort of bond with him anymore. I’ll just ignore him until he trots back to college.” I slip further into the chair, wishing mum could have been here for Wyatt’s extended vacation. All she ever wanted was for him to join us.

  “Do you want to talk about her?” Elena calls out the elephant in the room. Although we have continued our sessions since my mum’s death, I haven’t spoken with her since the day before the funeral.

  “I don’t know what is left to say. In all the ways that mattered, she was my mum. Obviously, I’ll never stop missing her, but she set me up with a life which I didn’t think I deserved. I have to continue striving forward to honour her memory. She has been with me each night in my dreams, which I know isn’t the same, but it eases my guilt a little.”

  “Why do you feel guilty?” Elena prods, picking up on the words I didn’t realise I’d said. Searching my feelings, I can’t put my finger on the reasoning behind it, only that I’ve felt this way since Nixon sat me down to break the news of her accident.

  “I suppose if events in her life had been different, for example, not having to drop me off at Meg’s sorority party, she wouldn’t have found herself in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “Is it the fact you were attending a party or the fact you were in her life at all that makes you feel this way?” I glance away, tears pooling into my eyes as I am unable to answer her question. Because we both know it is the latter.

  “I’ve decided to focus on the positives I have still around me, like Meg,” I smile. When I’d first met Elena, I didn’t like her at all. Her invasive questions and the emotions I struggled to bury all week until she would bring them back to the surface. Eventually, she had brought her daughter along to one of our sessions with a mindfulness colouring book. Back then, Meg had a punk vibe with her heavy side fringe and eyeliner combo that she held onto until she was 16. One hour of colouring and idle chitchat had cemented my best friend’s role in my life, and I couldn’t be more grateful for her.

  The rest of our session passes with general conversation, from the soup kitchen to my non-existent plans for the weekend. I tell Elena about my tattoo, and even though it’s healing quickly, I’m still not ready to show her. Not that she ever saw the mess that’s now hidden beneath. By the time 4pm rolls around, I’m feeling the usual drain of digging into my emotions. Thanking Elena for her time and promising to work on becoming more comfortable with Wyatt’s presence (not), I stroll through the opposite door into the studio.

  Apparently tasked with guarding me, Axel is leaning against the floor-to-ceiling mirror that lines one side of the room, with his foot propped up and a bored expression in place. His amber eyes assess me, trailing down Meg’s college sweater I’m wearing to my teal leggings and fluffy lilac socks. I offer him a small smile which he does not return so I continue past to the storage cupboard at the back of the room. Winding past punching bags, balancing beams and various other equipment, I snag my ballet shoes from the shelf. There’s even a violin for some reason, although I’ve never asked or tried to learn it. The piano is more my speed.

  “I thought this was self-defence or some shit.” Axel complains as I return. Sitting on the oakwood floor, I remove my socks and slip the pink leather shoes onto my feet.

  “I’m in the mood for something a little calmer.” I say, flexing my feet back and forth. Pulling my ankles towards myself, I lean forward to stretch my inner thighs. Peeking through my hair, I see the male is eyeing my flexibility with interest. Once I’d thoroughly stretched out all of my muscles, (aka teased Axel) I walk over to switch on the laptop that’s connected to the docking system.

  Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 6 leaks from the speakers around the room, filling me with a sense of tranquillity. I’d normally have shed my sweater by now, but with prying eyes in the room, I push the sleeves up to my elbows instead and lose myself to the music. Hopping onto my tiptoes, I plie several times before turning full circle in a pirouette. By the time the 45 minute piece comes to an end, my feet are aching and there is a furnace living within my sweater.

  My leg suddenly seizes up, as if a clamp has closed tightly around the limb. I crash to the floor, hugging it tightly and scrunching my eyes shut. Catching Axel’s bored stare, I gesture to my calf. “Do you mind?” If he insists on standing guard, he might as well help me stretch out. Huffing and rolling his eyes, he strides towards me and kneels down. Placing my leg against his torso while I lie flat on my back, he grasps my foot and pushes down on it firmly. Agony shoots through my calf, causing me to scream out.

  “Don’t be such a pussy,” he grumbles. I glare at him angrily, the pain making my teeth clench.

  “Fuck you,” I seethe, seeing red at his accusation that I’m weak. “You have no idea the suffering I’ve been through or the injuries that still cause me grief.” I mentally slap myself for lowering to his level until I see his expression. Something shifts in his amber eyes, a look of sympathy and understanding that shocks me. The pain in my leg begins to ebb, but I don’t move. Axel loosens his grip and gently rubs feather-light circles across the pad of my foot.

  “Everyone handles abuse differently,” he says cryptically, looking away. My breath catches in my throat, seeing Axel in a new light. Withdrawing my leg, I shift up onto my knees to make us level. A shadow of stubble is visible against his tanned skin and sharp cheekbones that are high enough to be model worthy contour his face. Axel’s gaze shifts to mine, their coppery tint captivating me. I reach up, lost in a trance where only he and I exist, tracing my finger along his strong jawline. Lowering his head, I gently hold onto his nape as my eyelids flutter closed.

  The delicate softness of his lips pushes against mine as a throat is cleared in the doorway. Jolting away from each other, I turn to see an amused looking Huxley standing in the doorway. His messy hair falls loosely onto exposed shoulders, a grey vest straining to cover his wide chest and failing to hide the outline of his six-pack. Heat blooms to life in my cheeks as I half hobble out of the room and sprint for the sanctuary of my room. Throwing my weight against the cool wood of my door, my chest heaves as lust pours through me.

  Locking the main and bathroom doors, I drop to the floor to remove the ballet shoes. Desire pools at my core as hauntingly beautiful amber eyes fill my mind, forcing me to reach frantically under my bed for my black box of toys. After failing to locate it, I reach for my phone on the bedside table and turn the torch on. Shifting onto my stomach, my nostrils flare in irritation as I continue to hunt and find that it is missing. Those fuckers.

  My nostrils flare as I stomp my way through the house to Wyatt’s pool house residence, pent-up sexual frustration guiding my decisions. Sliding the door open without knocking, I step into the recently decorated space which looks like a mini-version of the main house. The smell of weed mixed with fresh paint fumes makes my already reeling mind spin faster.

  The soft grey walls blend into a stone-effect feature wall where the TV is mounted and match the charcoal grey 5-seater sofa that f
ills the centre of the space. A kitchenette has been fitted to the right, sparkling with chrome appliances that I’m sure Wyatt won’t know how to use.

  “Where is it?” I demand. Looking up from his phone, Wyatt eyes me curiously next to Garrett, who’s watching some action movie on TV while Dax is manspreading on the end of the sofa with a joint in his mouth. My eyes flick across Dax’s bronzed bare torso before I mentally slap myself.

  “Where’s what?” he responds, sounding bored and focusing back on his phone’s screen. Fisting my hands at my side, trying to ignore the burning of the blush that is lining my chest and neck, I manage keep my voice surprisingly level.

  “You know what. The black box I kept under my bed.” The look of amusement passing through his face tells me he definitely has it.

  “It’s hard for me to know which black box you could be referring to. What was in it?” Garrett and Dax’s inability to hide their smirks also alerts me to the fact they’ve all had a good look. I groan in exasperation, my need for the box quickly being doused by these morons.

  “Honestly, you can keep the rest of it – just give me my vibrator. Right. Now.” The three of them burst into laughter. Crossing my arms, I try to figure out a way to grab Wyatt’s attention as an idea forms in my mind. The laughter dies down and Wyatt turns his cocky face towards me. “Either you give it back, or I will have no choice but to fuck your friends Wyatt. The choice is yours.”

  His smile immediately drops, anger flaring to life in him as I knew it would. The vein in his temple pulses and his jaw ticks. “They wouldn’t want you,” he calls my bluff. Dax and Garrett are eyeing me curiously. Pushing my tongue into my cheek with a twitch of my eyebrows, I look between the others before staring straight into his green eyes.