Devilishly Damaged

by Abigail Cole

  “Shame on you,” she says when they stop to face each other properly. I remain back with Axel, while Avery hovers in between all of us. Axel’s fingers link with mine in the darkness of the overhanging trees, his shoulder rubbing against mine. I’m aware his insecurities come alive at night-time, so I allow him to take the comfort he needs from me.

  “I know I shouldn’t have done it Meg. I can’t tell you how sorry- “

  “Shame on you for thinking I’m so shallow. I enjoyed speaking with you because of your words, not the profile picture you used. You should have been honest with me from the start.” I raise my eyebrows, surprised and impressed by how rationally Meg is handling the situation. The pair share a shy smile and agree to some space for a while before we all leave the gardens. Axel reluctantly releases my hand as we leave the blackness of the gardens and cross the car park that’s lit by streetlamps.

  Mike slinks to a Hyundai, which is a shockingly bright shade of blue, having to push the key into a hole on the door to unlock it. I can’t stop watching the pitiful sight of him trying to turn the engine over several times before the rust bucket finally chokes to life, smoke spluttering from the exhaust. The glint of tears in his eyes shine under the glow of a streetlamp. Yeah, I’d cry too if that was my life.

  Avery makes Meg promise to call her later as she hugs her tightly to say goodbye, before slipping into the back of the orange Nissan. I take the keys from Axel, wanting to take the beauty of a car for another spin, and lower myself into the driver’s seat. Pulling onto the street, I fill Axel in on Meg’s catfish experience which he finds hysterical.

  “Well who can blame him? He’s never going to get a girl by being himself.” Avery gasps from the back seat at Axel’s comment but, other than that, she remains silent. In fact, she doesn’t say a word for the entire journey, leaving Axel to look sheepish. He hates feeling like he’s upset someone, so I reach over to lay my palm on his thigh. I see Avery’s gaze shift between us in the mirror, a slight twitch in her eyebrow so I try to find a way to explain a Shadowed Soul’s thought process to her.

  “It’s difficult to remember our looks don’t define us when everyone judges us accordingly. The sad truth is we all fight our own demons, no matter what life we are born into.”

  Wyatt

  Something jolts me from my sleep, but as I look around, I can’t see anything out of place. The darkened room may be rather small, but the designers did a fantastic job at making it feel spacious. An alcove by the converted bathroom door has been fitted with hanging rails and a curtain to create a hidden wardrobe. Floating shelves line the geometric feature wall to my left and the other walls are painted a light cream. A long mirror hangs beside the glass door leading onto the tiny balcony.

  A metallic clink sounds from somewhere outside, causing my ears to prick up but nothing else follows. Leaning over to grab my shorts from the floor, I pull them on and leave my bed, that folds back into a futon during the day. Pulling my new phone out from under the pillow, I press the video call button on the Shadowed Soul’s group chat in the hopes at least one of them will answer at 4am. Garrett and Dax’s faces appear on the screen so I hold a finger to my lips to keep them quiet.

  “Something feels off. Can either of you see anything suspicious in the garden?” I whisper into the mic. Creeping down the stairs into the open plan living room and kitchenette, I notice the drawers and cupboard doors are all open and my sofa cushions are piled in a heap on the floor. The sliding door to my pool house is ajar, a thin netted curtain dancing slightly from the breeze outside. It’s clear to see no one is still inside since I can glance over the whole lower level from my place on the bottom step.

  “Out here!” Garrett shouts, causing a silhouette to run past my door. Throwing my phone onto the striped sofa as I pass, I slip through the crack in the door without wasting the time to open it further. A figure dressed all in black is sprinting past the pool and towards the high wall that rings our estate, so I take on the chase. The chilly morning air makes my skin line with goose bumps, the wind beginning to feel like sharp shards hitting as I run faster. Pumping my arms and thundering across a huge stretch of grass on bare feet, I start to lessen the distance between us until he dives into one of the dense bushes against the wall.

  The foliage is almost as tall as me, tiny thorns on the branches scratching my arms as I search within frantically. It’s unusual for my father’s guards to get so close, never mind running like a criminal. Finally parting the leaves enough to get a clear view in the pink sky overhead, there’s no sign of the intruder. I look side to side, only able to find a deep imprint of a man’s boot in the soil. Following the wall, I stalk each bush and listen for signs of life, but there’s nothing.

  Garrett jogs over to join me, surprisingly fully dressed until I notice the drip of syrup on his t-shirt and figure he was having an early breakfast when I called. “There was another one. I chased him around the basketball court and seemed to lose him on the driveaway.” His chest is heaving in exertion as he runs a hand through his dark hair. The sound of Dax’s voice mumbling from Gare’s sweatpants pocket makes him pull his phone out to see the face of our afroed friend.

  “I checked on Avery, she’s fast asleep but there was this.” Noticing through the screen that he is on Avery’s balcony, I turn back towards the house to see him reeling up a long, thick rope. I’d nearly scolded him for checking on her when he could have been helping us catch these fuckers, but now I’m glad he did.

  “Wake the others and meet in the living room. I don’t think those guys were guards.” I snap, already walking away towards the driveway. Passing the mansion on my right and crossing the gravelled path, I continue on in just my shorts to the guard box sitting inside our huge iron gates. The guard inside the booth is reclining back in his leather seat, eyes closed and his navy uniform crinkling with the heavy rise and fall of his chest. Ripping the door open, I grab his collar and heave him forwards in frustration. He’s more than getting fired for this.

  The guard’s head of blonde curls flops towards me, his large body dropping from the chair so I am forced to catch him. Dragging him out of the tiny box for one, my anger instantly dies as I lie him on the gravel and check his pulse instinctively, even though a light snore sounds on every inhale. Giving him a shake and a few slaps, he begins to rouse. “Hey, wake up!” I shout in his face, the noise seeming to bring him back to reality. Slowly lifting him, I sling his arm around my shoulder and half-carry his dead weight back to the mansion.

  “What the fuck?” Huxley rushes over to help me bring the guard to the U-shaped sofa in the middle of the room. As soon as we place his muscular frame down, his head lolls and he is lost to slumber again. Rolling my shoulders from the strain of his heavy weight, I see Avery walking down the stairs on a wide yawn, rubbing her nose with the palm of her hand. She’s wearing a yellow hoodie and the same teal silky shorts as the night I found her dry humping Garrett, her toned legs catching my attention. Shaking myself, I quickly replace my gawping with a scowl.

  “What’s she doing here?” I growl. Dax follows her down the stairs carrying her pillow and duvet.

  “You said wake the others. She was obviously the target of whatever happened tonight.” Dax eyes me angrily, his jaw clenched tight. Avery moves into the corner of the sofa, reaching for her bedding, cuddling up and asking someone to switch the coffee machine on.

  “This isn’t a fucking retreat!” I shout, not that she even looks my way. “Someone tried to break into your room. Maybe you should put some proper clothes on and get serious.” Her blue eyes flick to me, giving my bare torso a bitchy up-and-down glance before snuggling back into her pillow. Garrett appears at the top of the staircase, dragging a grumpy Axel along with their arms linked.

  “Don’t get your panties in a twist Wyatt. This sort of thing has been happening for months. The number for Detective Vincent is on the fridge if you’ll be a dear and give her a call.” My mouth drops open at her casualness and gaining similar
responses from my men who have all stopped what they were doing to face her.

  “And I’m only finding this out now?” I try to reign my anger in, fisting my hands by my side. She shrugs, keeping her eyes closed.

  “You would have been more inclined to strap me to a lounger and leave me out for them. Nixon asked you to remain here for a reason.” A flash of hurt at her words expands in my chest which confuses the hell out of me. I might be tormenting her for my own personal reasons, but had I known there was a real threat, would I have acted differently? I thought my father had forced me to stay here as a punishment for not being around, and as an overreaction to protecting the little girl he’s always longed for.

  “Do you know who they are or what they want?” Axel moves around the sofa to lift Avery’s duvet and slipping beneath it. I catch sight of her legs spreading across his lap before he places the cover back down and turn away in frustration. I know I could have felt that comfortable with her had I allowed it, but I also know it wouldn’t have ever been enough. On paper, she is my sister for fuck’s sake, regardless of the fact I’ve only seen her for a total of eleven weeks in my life. Not that I’m counting. Each time I visited for the odd day like Thanksgiving, she got impossibly more beautiful. Her body changing and her eagerness to be near me was unbearable. I could never have formed a bond with her, knowing I would have needed more. So, I made sure we were enemies instead.

  “I’m not sure. Each time they drug the guard on duty and trash a different room in the house as if they are looking for something. We don’t usually know they’ve been until morning and they’ve never caused any real harm. Although last time, I did wake to find my hair and toothbrush was missing. Maybe they’re homeless.” Her words begin to slur and she drifts back to sleep, the duvet shifting as Axel clearly strokes her legs underneath. I stride into the kitchen, an uneasy feeling filling me. Why hadn’t my father mentioned any of this?

  I try to reach father first with no avail before snatching the Detective’s card from under a magnet on the fridge. Answering on the second ring, she promises to be over within the hour and urges me to keep everyone inside until her team arrives. Ending the call, I attempt phoning father again which goes straight to voicemail. Turning, I find three of the guys on stools behind the kitchen island, each one of them with worry in their eyes too.

  “Please tell me you are concerned by this,” Dax pleads, his hands linked tightly on the counter. I know I’ve been an asshole lately, but he can’t think I’d let random thugs hurt Avery. They won’t have a personal vendetta against her, she never does anything to cause anyone pain except me.

  “They know we are here now. So either they’ll stay away or come back with more men.” Hux thinks out loud, picking at his nails. I decide not to mention I’ve actually seen figures looming around the pool house a few times, but I was sure it was a precaution to watch over me. Gare hangs his head in his hands on a sigh, the strain of the situation weighing on even the most easy-going one of us all.

  We all work out regularly and train hard, Huxley reached blackbelt in karate at 14, but for the most part, it’s all for show. We don’t start fights without a good cause, preferring to focus on our studies. But in light of this news, I know we will all give everything to keep Sleeping Blondie in the other room safe. I desperately want to believe this shift in perspective is my brotherly side coming to the surface, but it’s much deeper than that. Every feeling I’ve suppressed for years starting to emerge, the weight of it tightening around my chest until it’s difficult to breathe.

  Moving around the island, I step between Gare and Dax to push my closed fist onto the marble surface. Mimicking me, the others place their fists on top mine to form a pact move we created years ago that we called The Tower.

  “I’m not sure what’s going on around here but new plan. We protect Avery at all costs.”

  Avery

  Waking to the sound of the doorbell, I wonder why I’m on the sofa until I remember my early morning wake up call. Axel’s shaved head has flopped over to use my hip as a cushion through my thick duvet. Shifting, he awakes on a gasp that makes me jump too. Also seeming disorientated, he runs a hand over his scalp until his amber eyes find mine. There are flecks of brown scattered in his captivating irises which he isn’t quick enough to hide the pained look from. Without thinking, I lift my hand to cup his jaw, knowing what it’s like for your past to find you in your dreams each night. His face turns to place a kiss into my palm before he rises and leaves.

  “Ahh Avery, you’re awake.” Detective Vincent says, walking in from the kitchen where I see Wyatt sitting at the island. Susie dishes out breakfasts to the boys sitting at the dining table before walking over to hand me a coffee. She’s an angel, I muse as I take the first sip. Sitting upright and crossing my legs, I shift the duvet so the detective can take a seat on the sofa. Flicking open her notepad, which is covered in her scrawly writing, she turns her greeny-blue eyes to face me.

  “It doesn’t seem like the house was breached this time, and a footprint was found outside which is more than we’ve had to go on before. Did you happen to see anything?” She asks, her shoulder-length brown hair swishing as she glances between me and the notepad.

  “No, I slept through again. Dax woke me at 4:13am and then I fell asleep down her until just now.” Searching around for the time from any source, I settle on the detective’s watch and see its’ after 8am now. “How long have you been here?”

  “Around 2 hours now, we decided to search for evidence and I interviewed everyone else while you slept.” This will be the fourth time I’ve seen the detective, so I feel comfortable in her presence. Unlike the first time when we had returned home to the front gates wide open and my room was trashed. I had been so jittery by the time the police arrived, I could barely form a full sentence. She co-investigated my mum’s car crash too, but there wasn’t much to go on since the other driver also died on impact. Just a junkie who shouldn’t have been in control of a vehicle apparently, after there was a high level of heroin found in his blood and track marks lining his inner arm.

  Wyatt walks out of the kitchen, now having donned a grey t-shirt, and sits on the glass coffee table in front of me. Reaching to take the empty mug from my hands, he places it down and looks at me worriedly. “How are you feeling?” he asks and I nearly fall out of my seat. I look behind, guessing there must be someone else in the room he is actually addressing. Twisting my body so I’m not facing him, I return my attention to our guest.

  “How you heard from Fre-“

  “No.” I interrupt Detective Vincent, not comfortable with her questioning me under Wyatt’s supervision. He looks at me curiously but doesn’t ask the question that’s burning in his eyes.

  “Okay, well if there’s nothing to report, I’ll wrap everything up and get out of your hair.” The brunette beside me says as she stands. “You’re really lucky to have these young men here, they all seem to really care for you Avery.” I gawp at her retreating, sure Wyatt has managed to sweettalk his way around the detective even though she’s normally a great judge of character. Turning back to Wyatt, the anxious look in his emerald eyes has vanished and the usual scowl is back.

  “You need to stay with another person at all times,” he demands. I roll my eyes and scoff at his hot and cold demeanour. Collecting my duvet around me, I attempt to rise but his hand lashes out to grab my arm, keeping me seated before him. “I’m serious Avery,” he growls, his grip tightening.

  “What do you care? Your life would be so much easier without me in it.” I push my face into his, our noses touching as I glare straight into his eyes with all the envy I can muster.

  “Trust me when I tell you I care Avery, a little too much.” He shoves me backwards so I fall back into the cushions as he storms out, leaving me confused and irritable.

  ∞∞∞

  Throwing my fist into the punching bag with a powerful thud, the printed image of Wyatt’s stupidly smug face crumples further beneath my knuckles.
Pummelling the paper until it tears, I smash my foot right into the centre as the remaining pieces litter the floor like confetti. It’s been almost two weeks since my last self-defence lesson and I need to vent my emotions physically. Since I’m living with a bunch of overbearing arseholes, sex is definitely off the table so I’ve found myself in the gym Nixon had kitted out with all of the latest equipment. He may be in his 50’s, but Nixon is at the height of his fitness and takes pride in his right hook. I suppose that’s why we didn’t need to be surrounded by guards all the time, he could easily have protected us if necessary.

  Wyatt didn’t say another word to me for the whole of yesterday, despite looming at the back of every room I was in with his scowl in place. Staring at me across the table while studying, watching me eat, answering my calls before handing me the phone back. He also refused to let me go to the soup kitchen with Meg last night, even with Dax offering to go with us. I’d nearly died this morning waking up to him standing on my balcony. That guy switches moods so quickly, he’s giving me whiplash.

  Catching sight of myself in the mirror, my chest is completely flushed and my hair has almost fallen from its bun. Untying my hair, I bind it into a tight plait that hangs over my shoulder instead and adjust my neon pink sports bra under a see-through white mesh vest. My legs are encased in polyester that changes from deep purple to shimmering pink in the light. After moving to the control panel to crank up the speakers as Jay Z and Linkin Park’s Encore comes on, I straddle the rowing machine and test the resistance. Finding a comfortable speed, I fall into rhythm pulling the handle with the beat. Thank goodness the others convinced Wyatt to join them in a ball game, allowing me some precious alone time.

  Sweat is dripping into my eyes and I stink to high heaven by the time I feel calm enough to leave the indoor gym that sits directly beneath the master bedroom. Through a door in the back corner is a hidden staircase leading directly upstairs for Nixon’s comfort. Exiting into the downstairs corridor instead, needing to grab a drink before I head for a shower, I see the sky outside is dark. Rounding into the living room, I hear chatter coming from the kitchen. I almost decide to run upstairs and drink from the bathroom tap, but I find my backbone and stride through the archway. Coming to a stop at the sight of the five guys sitting at an empty dining table, I glance around in confusion with my eyes landing on the clock above the fridge showing its nearly 6:30pm.