by Abigail Cole
Deceitfully Damaged
The Shadowed Souls Series Book Two
Abigail Cole
For every single woman who has not let past abuse define their futures. We're all in this together.
Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Avery
Wyatt
Meg
Wyatt
Avery
Axel
Wyatt
Avery
Dax
Meg
Wyatt
Avery
Garrett
Wyatt
Meg
Avery
Huxley
Wyatt
Avery
Garrett
Wyatt
Meg
Dax
Wyatt
Avery
Meg
Wyatt
Avery
Wyatt
Axel
Meg
Avery
Wyatt
Huxley
Avery
Wyatt
Thanks!
Acknowledgement
Avery
“But now I think you might have been a part of this family all along.”
Those words flutter on the edge of my consciousness as I rouse from yet another fitful sleep. Huxley is flush to my back, his deep even breathing fanning my ear. I’ve been naturally waking around this time for the past few weeks, allowing me a fleeting moment of reflection before a new day of confusion and worry begins.
Time since Wyatt showed me the ultrasound in his pool house has passed quickly. That afternoon changed everything, and not in the way I’d hoped. I thought I had finally been gifted something in life that was real, someone who would always be with me. My twin. My own flesh and blood. The other half to my soul, apparently. Yet we’ve never been more distant and that’s saying something.
Lying still in the dark and maintaining the pretence of sleep, I slowly build up the layers around my heart so it’s buried far away from the surface. Huxley shifts and rolls over, his movement giving me the green light to launch myself from the bed without him noticing. Rolling from the mattress into a crouch on the floor, I peek over the duvet to check he’s still asleep. The cover rises and falls smoothly over his new position on his left side, the wound on his collar bone practically healed now. Tiptoeing on silent feet, I pick up my phone from the bedside table and edge around the bed. I make it all the way to the bathroom door before his voice echoes around the walls.
“Where are you going?”
“I need a shower, is that a crime?” I huff bitchily and sag my shoulders. It’s surreal how swiftly spending time in here has shifted from a pleasant oasis to a steel-barred cage.
“Do you want me to sit in with you?” He asks hopefully, pushing himself upright so his blonde hair tumbles onto his shoulders. The pink puckered scar is barely visible upon his broad chest as the sun begins to spill through a crack in the curtains. I know Huxley means well, and the puppy dog look in his eyes almost makes me say yes but I need some of my own space. His protectiveness is suffocating me.
“It’s fine, I need a little time alone. I’ll be back soon.” I disappear through the door and lock it behind me, sagging against the wood on a sigh. Checking my phone, the screen illuminates with a selfie of Meg and I from a New Year’s Eve party. Her eyes are glimmering to the purest shade of aquamarine in the flash, her red painted lips curved into a huge smile as I’m running the pad of my tongue up her cheek.
Unlocking it with my thumb, I open contacts to the 47 failed phone calls I’ve attempted to place to Meg so far and tap to add another. Holding the phone to my ear, bracing myself for the automated message ‘Sorry, we are unable to connect your call at this time. Please try again later-’, my heart jumps into my throat as the first ring sounds. With each one, I silently beg her to pick up and my excitement slowly ebbs into dread. Her voicemail begins to play, the sweet voice I yearn for promising to call back soon as I sink down until I’m slumped on the floor. The backs of my eyes sting with unshed tears as I try to keep my voice as level as possible.
“Hey Meg, I know you’re still on holiday with your mum and I don’t want to bother you. But it’s been weeks and I really miss you. We’ve never gone this long without talking. It’s like a part of me is missing. I feel so alone without you and there’s so much I want to fill you in on. So, give me a call if you get a chance. I l love- ”
A beep cuts me off and I lean my forehead onto my knees. Tears begin to fall onto my bare thighs, running a trail down to my skimpy pyjama shorts. I’ve managed to keep my emotions hidden by keeping distracted with helping Huxley recover but the flood gates are open now and I don’t know how to close them. My body shakes violently with loud sobs I can’t conceal. Distantly, the sound of the opposite door opening reaches my ears and causes me to glance through the watered glaze in my eyes to see Dax approaching.
Bending low to collect me from the floor, I slide my arms around his neck as he straightens with ease and bury my face in his black t-shirt. The firmness of his chest beneath the fabric pressed against my cheek, giving me the solid support I need. Striding into my own room, he sits on the edge of my bed and cradles me tightly while I use his warmth and scent to reign myself back in. His cologne is the perfect blend of sweet and spice, filling my senses with each deep exhale I force myself to take. Dax doesn’t say a word, just holds me and rests his cheek on top of my head. His afro tickles my ear, making a smile a little.
Shifting my head so I can glance over his darkly tanned shoulder, I see ominous dark clouds filling the sky beyond my balcony. “Did he come home last night?” I ask quietly. Dax shakes his head and strokes my arm gently, causing goose bumps to rise beneath his touch. Sleeping next to Huxley is like having a radiator in the bed, but now I’m chilly in this flimsy vest and shorts combo. Dax’s shoulder bunches as he reaches across towards my pillow, pulling the orange hoodie out from beneath it. The burn of a blush ignites in my cheeks in embarrassment as I accept Wyatt’s hoodie from him with an awkward nod.
I know it’s wrong to keep a piece of your brother’s clothing hidden beneath your pillow so his scent is nearby if I should need it. I could justify it by saying I needed a connection to him, but I know Dax won’t believe me. Wyatt and I were starting to bond and grow closer, but then he discovered what we were and went straight back to pushing me away. In fact, he seems to hate me now more than ever, judging by the way he bolted from the pool house, and has avoided me ever since. I don’t care if we only smile in passing, he’s supposed to be my twin and even if it doesn’t feel natural, I want him in my life.
Slipping the hoodie over my head, I remain huddled into Dax until I hear the splatter of rain against the glass behind us. Looks like another day stuck in this mansion with four brooding guys. They are missing Wyatt as much as me, probably more in fact. The self-appointed leader of their group has gone AWOL and their dynamic has shifted massively. Huxley is hiding away, Axel and Garrett have coupled up so that leaves Dax to comfort me.
Setting me on my feet, Dax says he’ll head down to start breakfast before slipping out of the door. Crossing the room, I stare longingly at the pool house beyond the window before slipping into my walk-in closet to find some sweatpants. Half of the clothes hanging across the left side are Meg’s, making me pout further. Seriously, where is she? I’m worried something might have happened or that I am the problem. With all the craziness happening around here, I’ve considered Meg may have left to escape the drama but surely she could just call to tell me she’s okay.
Yanking a pair of soft grey tracksuit bottoms from a hanger and pulling them on beneath the overly large hoodie, I twist my long hair i
nto a bun and secure it with a band from my wrist. Spraying myself with anti-perspirant, deciding to have my shower later, I step into the hallway to see Axel and Garrett heading up the stairs. Thankfully, their attention is on each other, allowing me to duck back into my doorway unseen until they’ve rounded the hallway towards Garrett’s room. I know, in their own ways, the pair only want to help but Axel will try to explore my feelings and Garrett will attempt to convince me threesomes are the best kind of release. Neither of which I’m in the mood for at the moment.
Walking down the staircase and entering the kitchen, Dax turns to hand me a tea with a wide smile. His pearly whites are perfectly straight and penetrating blue eyes shimmer slightly, giving me a wink as I accept the mug from his large hands. Perching on the stool across the island from him, I silently sip and watch him cook over the rim of my cup. With the others content to do their own things, we’ve spent a lot of time together lately so I feel comfortable letting my guard down in his presence. Dax moves around the island with a plate of pancakes for each of us, mine topped with bacon and syrup while his act as the base for a mountain of fruit. Tutting at his healthy choice, he sticks his tongue out playfully while sitting down beside me.
“What should we do today?” he asks just as I shovel a forkful of sticky goodness into my mouth. Holding my finger up to make him wait a moment for my reply, I almost choke trying to chew and swallow too quickly.
“You did that on purpose,” I finally croak out, reaching to take a long drink of my overly sweet tea.
“Yeah I did,” he chuckles, nudging my shoulder which causes the mug to miss my mouth and beige liquid to splash down my chin onto the orange hoodie. A moment of silence stretches between us until Dax bursts into laughter that I can’t help to join in. Placing the cup onto the marbled surface safely, I lunge over in an attempt to wipe my face dry on his shirt but he’s too fast for me. Dax’s hands grip my shoulders to hold me at bay while I squeeze his knees in my fingertips. The resulting squeal belongs to a little girl, not the muscled basketball player beside me and I completely lose it.
Maybe because I haven’t laughed properly in ages, but hysterics take a hold of me until I’m bent forward on the counter clutching my sides. His fingers grip my thighs, making me jolt. Cackling, I attempt to pry his iron clad grip from my legs with no avail. Dax abruptly withdraws his hands from me and straightens, as I wipe the tea from my face with the sleeve of the hoodie. Following his eyeline, I see Huxley standing in the archway with a pained look across his face.
“I thought you didn’t want company.” He looks between us accusingly. “But apparently, just not mine.” His nostrils flare with a further crease in his eyebrows just before he turns to storm off without eating. Again. Huxley has been living off the bare minimum amount of food since he was shot, much to Garrett’s approval since he gets seconds for every meal. A faint flicker of despair within my chest is quickly chased away by anger. Stabbing my fork into the centre of my pancakes, I jump down from the stool and head for the gym towards the back of the house.
I understand why Huxley is acting this way, but that doesn’t mean I need to like it. He thinks keeping me hidden in his room is the best way to keep me safe. I’ve spent weeks taking care of him and aiding his every whim for the bullet he took for me. Soothed away every night terror, held him while he’s cried, changed his dressings, even brushed his hair. I will always feel incredibly guilty about the events of that day but, surely, he can see it’s time to get back to normal. There’s been no sign of the intruders since, police still watch the house each night and there are now armed guards posted around the 6-foot stone wall surrounding the grounds. For my own sanity, I need to move on.
Music starts to play through the speakers as Dax passes me a pair of boxing gloves to use on the punching bag. He can be silently overprotective like that, but I don’t mind since he isn’t trying to guilt-trip me like a certain moping blonde. Peeling off the hoodie and chucking it over the pull up tower, I strap on the gloves as Dax moves around to hold the bag in place, only his afro visible either side of the red leather from this angle. Smirking, I throw the sole of my foot into the centre with as much force as I can muster to knock him off balance. A low chuckle sounds under the heavy bass as I continue to punch the bag over and over until the burn in my muscles levels out the one within my being.
Above Meg, and even Wyatt, I miss my mum. Discovering she was my birth mother this whole time was a punch in the gut and I’ve had to secretly mourn her all over again. She was the first person I learned to love, yet she was the one to abandon me. I have so many questions she held the answers to and for some reason decided to keep to herself. Why didn’t she ever tell me?
Things might be easier if I could get a hold of Nixon and Wyatt wasn’t avoiding me. He seems to sneak in while I’m asleep to grab fresh clothes and disappear by morning, according to Dax. My entire world has been spun on its axis. Just a few months ago, Meg was carrying a tall chocolate cake into the living room, with mum, Nixon, Susie and Jenson all seated on the U-shaped cream sofa, singing happy birthday to me. A sparkler fizzled on top in the shape of a 19 that was a bitch to blow out. Now none of them are here and I’ve realised Wyatt’s birthday is at the end of this month – which means so is mine and I’ve just lost a whole year of my life. Crap.
Wyatt
This is the life. High energy music seeps under the curtain from the club in full swing beyond, the sound of stomping feet accompanying the bass. Vibrant colours burst in rhythmic patterns behind my closed eyelids, like an internal never-ending kaleidoscope. My mind feels light and empty as I roll my head across the back of the velvet sofa, enjoying the high from the tablet I swallowed a little while ago. I don’t even know what it was, but it’s fucking incredible. The small tremors that took a hold of my body soon morphed into this blissful numb feeling with faint tingles dancing around my skin similar to pins and needles.
The scent of weed travels across from the next booth over, signalling I’m not alone in having a good time. “The devil’s lettuce,” I muse to myself, chuckling quietly with a stupidly large grin across my face. Sighing contentedly, I stretch my legs wider and slouch down a little further to accommodate the blowjob I’m currently receiving. I’ve spent my days and nights doing whatever the fuck I want for a while now, not sure how long since I don’t even know what day it is. Only sneaking back to the mansion if I have no other choice i.e. need to grab some cash or rotate sneakers. Each day has been mine to seize, any way I see fitting, and it’s been glorious. Crashing celebrity-exclusive parties, placing high bets at casinos, going back to a different chick’s hotel room each night. She-who-will-not-be-named is actually a Hughes, which relieves me of my adopted babysitter bullshit. The truth will set you free and all that jazz.
My fingers are threaded through the black hair of a random woman I picked up walking through the seedy club, her head bobbing up and down on my dick. Her brown eyes, dark hair and multiple face piercings were the polar opposite to the figure haunting my dreams each time I close my eyes, which made her perfect in my opinion. The fact she had drugs stashed in her cleavage and was desperate to suck me off were bonuses. Through my daze, I can barely feel the effort I’m sure she is putting in but I still don’t make her stop. This is worlds away from the straight A, respected, upper class guy I was a few weeks ago - which is exactly the point.
Recent revelations have forced me to get my priorities in sync, number one being to stop lusting over my twin sister. Fuck it, I promised myself I wouldn’t think of her. Opening my eyes, I focus on the woman kneeling between my legs. Clutching the back of her head, I encourage her to go deeper, hopelessly trying to banish the blonde mirage appearing in front of me. She moves faster, her black hair covering my thighs like an ink spill as she takes me all the way in the back of her throat, but any ounce of pleasure I might have felt through this high has gone. Her thickly outlined eyes flash up to me, a trick of my mind seeing them as blue in the strobe light that passes over the c
urtain. My dick jumps excitedly at the notion and I hate myself even more.
I tried so hard to keep my distance when I thought she was adopted, but the more I pushed her away the more I wanted to pull her close. She was the forbidden fruit I couldn’t resist, and when I think how close I came to acting on my urges I feel sick. Bile rises in my throat, the effects of the drug instantly wearing off. I grip the sides of my head as my mind begins to spin with all the thoughts I’ve been suppressing. I didn’t want to think about her until I could control myself and now her blue beautiful eyes are all I can see, no matter how many times I blink.
“I need another one of those pills.” I rasp, nausea flipping my stomach as I push the woman off me. Releasing me with a ‘pop’, she looks offended as I hastily tuck myself back into my boxers.
“You shouldn’t take more than one at a time, that shit is strong.” She warns but I roll my eyes, sensing her game. Pulling a roll of money from my pocket, I bend forward to reach into her cleavage that’s fully on display in the low V in her red top in hunt for the packet she pushed back down earlier. Locating the small plastic bag, I pull it free and shove the roll of money into its previous hiding spot. There’re 7 more small pink pills within, which should be enough to see me through this bad patch I’m having. I may be temporarily unstable, but I’m not stupid enough to get addicted. By the end of the summer, I’ll have dragged the pieces of my broken soul back together and return to finish my bachelors since they only way I’m going to succeed in this life is through my own perseverance.
Noticing brown eyes staring at me with concern, I school my features and straighten my shirt. “Why are you still here? Get the fuck out,” I bark and point to the closed curtain. The metal studs in her eyebrow and either side of her nose shift simultaneously with her frown as she picks herself up from the floor and storms out. I stare at the pills for a while longer, twisting the packet between the fingers of my right hand. Deciding not to risk it and remain plagued by my thoughts, I shove the bag into my pocket and recline back.
