Deceitfully Damaged

by Abigail Cole

  “Okay, I’m done.” Huxley speaks his first words to me as he throws the card onto the stack playfully, the corner of his mouth tilting upwards. Doing a victory dance in my seat, my phone starts to vibrate in my pocket. A blocked number appears on the screen as I pull it from my pants’ pocket, so I excuse myself. Huxley has already disappeared back inside by the time I’ve rounded the pool, striding across the lawn to accept Meg’s call in private.

  “Hey, I was wondering when I’d hear from you again.” I joke, my heart lifting with hope she has good news - like ‘get some ice cream in, I’m on my way home.’

  “Hello Avery,” a crackled voice rasps through the speaker, halting my steps. It takes me a second to place the tone since I was expected one much more feminine.

  “Nixon?” My mind starts whirling with so many unanswered questions. What are the odds he is calling me from a blocked number? Where’s he been and when is he coming home? But his voice comes in a rush, not giving me a chance to speak.

  “There isn’t much time. Your life in danger. I need you and Wyatt to pack and meet me somewhere safe. I’m going to send you an encrypted email with directions to me. The password is our special place. It’s imperative you drive here, no airports. Only tell Wyatt where you are going, avoid public places and hotels. You can’t trust anyone.” I’ve never heard him sound so worried which only panics me more.

  “I don’t understand, what’s the problem? Everything is fine and Wyatt isn’t actually here right now...” His scoff travels to me, his disappointment clear.

  “Where the fuck- never mind. I’ll get in contact with Wyatt if you call for Jenson to drive you. I can’t explain anything over the phone, but the threat you received a couple of weeks ago is still very real. I expect you to leave immediately, I’ll see you soon.” The line goes dead, leaving me standing in the middle of the grass, alone and confused. Running back towards the house, I call for everyone to meet me in the living room because I know two things for certain. I can trust these guys with my life and there’s no way I’m calling Jenson.

  Huxley

  Slinging my duffle bag and backpack into the back seat, I slip into my Nissan and inhale deeply. I’d forgotten the raw leathery smell and the squishy comfort of the seat I’m sinking into. Despite my decision to follow wherever Avery goes being instinctual, I had been rather apprehensive when she told us we needed to leave. I’ve created my own save haven on the second floor of the mansion I’m staring at through the driver’s window. But this is not my home and Avery still needs me, whether she accepts that or not.

  However, now my arm is slung over the wheel and my feet are hovering over the pedals, a feeling of calm is settling over me that I didn’t realise has been missing. Through the windscreen, I watch Dax rush around the white Bentley to help Avery lift the mountain of bags into the trunk. Her legs are being hugged in a pair of purple cropped leggings that clash with an orange hoodie I’m sure isn’t hers judging by the excess of material around her petit body. Her hair is trapped under a curved neck cushion as she turns to smile at me sweetly and wave.

  I lift my hand from the wheel but can’t return her smile, knowing she’s about to spend all day with Gare’s rubbish jokes and Axel’s lingering touches. To be fair, the pair had offered to ride with me but I had wanted to reunite with Rhonda (my burnt-orange beauty I’ve barely had time to enjoy). Doesn’t mean my gut clenches any less at the sight of Axel opening the door and sliding in after her. Garrett appears on cue, his arms wrapped around multiple tote bags stuffed full with snacks and drinks that will probably only last him today. Ever the trustworthy one, Dax locks up before skipping down the porch steps and striding towards me.

  “You sure you’re good driving so far? Avery won’t mind squeezing in the middle if you’d rather join us.” He offers once I’ve rolled the window down but I shake my head.

  “The open road is the best kinda medicine.” I reply, settling down further and spreading my legs comfortably. After telling me to suit myself, Dax returns to the vehicle in front and disappears into the driver’s seat. The Bentley grumbles loudly, Avery glances back at me through the back window as it speeds down the drive and out of sight. Craning my neck side to side, I gently roll my Nissan along the gravelled driveway to make sure the others are out of sight as I emerge from the open gates, turning the opposite direction on the street.

  Dax visited me in my room last night, talking game plans for our 3-day mission to California. I listened to appease him but had planned on taking my own route, refusing to trail him like a lost sheep. The motel we’ve agreed on is programmed into the built-in sat nav on the dashboard, I’ll just arrive a few hours after them. Pulling up at a red light amongst the busy streets, a pair of college girls, all legs in tiny shorts, wolf whistle at me through my open window. Smirking, I throw them a wink as the lights change and I zoom over the crossroad. Good to know I’ve still got it.

  Meandering through the town, I start to realise how much I’ve been missing out on these past few weeks. Nothing extravagant, but the simple things like popping out for a walk and returning with an iced caramel macchiato seem like a distant dream. The shooting wasn’t even that traumatic, it’s the nightmares and worry that’s been crippling me. Yet the tighter I tried to hold onto Avery, the more I seem to push her away. I could sense the arguments brewing between us but I couldn’t stop myself. She stopped sleeping in my bed almost a week ago which is around the same time my self-loathing took a nosedive to Drown Town, as I like to call it. The place inside where all rational thought and slithers of happiness go to drown in the gloopy, black depths of my misery.

  The town sinks into a speck in my rear-view mirror as I leave it far behind, my excitement starting to build. Merging onto the interstate, the wind begins to whip through my blonde waves as I finally pick up speed. Resting my left hand in my lap, I steer with my right as I weave from lane to lane, speeding around vehicles going much too slow for my liking. Pushing my foot further down on the accelerator, car honks filling the air behind me. A genuine smile spreads across my face and damn does it feel good.

  Ignoring the speed limit signs, I continue to push the car to new limits now there are less vehicles around. Adrenaline courses through my bones, reminding me of why I chose the Nissan GT-R over all those fancy Porsches. Creeping over 100mph, I lean towards the open window and whoop in excitement, the wind beating against my face and my tongue lolling to the side. It’s good to give the exhaust a proper clean out once in a while, I muse. Brake lights up ahead have me slowing down as fast as I can without giving myself whiplash, returning to the speed limit as I pass a cop car. Saluting the officers as they eye me curiously, I behave myself now – the intended effect of lifting my spirits a thorough success.

  That taste of freedom tingles on my tongue, many vehicles including the cops taking an exit so the open road stretches before me with so many possibilities. Who says I need to go to this safe house? It doesn’t seem like I’m needed anyway, I just sit in bed staring at the blank wall wondering what’s happened to me. Maybe it’s time I found a piece of myself I still actually like and cling onto it, find people who would appreciate the sacrifices I’m willing to make for those I care about.

  A sign up ahead shows the turning for Tennessee on the opposite side of the lanes. My heart starts to pound, the thought I could change course and slip through the state to put me on track for Waversea College. Our house on campus is the closest place I have to a real home, even though my boys wouldn’t be there. I could actually enjoy the rest of my summer break, my badass new scar acting as a magnet to draw ladies into my bed. By the time my brethren return for the autumn semester, the old me will be back. No, scratch that, a new and improved me that doesn’t look out for anyone except himself.

  The turn off ahead becomes visible, my fingers twitching on the wheel with indecision. Torn between my head and my heart, I push the pedal to the floor and spin the steering wheel left. A shitty Toyota sounds its horn behind as I cut straight in fro
nt, crossing the three lanes and just making the turn in. A shudder runs through me, my arms tingling with trepidation. The image of a blue eyed, blonde hair temptress flairs to life in my mind, a heavy pressure pushing down on my chest with anxiety.

  For a fleeting moment, freedom had seemed so close. But somehow Avery has managed to pull me back into the darkened cage where the worst version of me lives and I don’t know whether to love or hate her for it. Coming to an intersection at the top of the ramp, I take the exit directly opposite and re-emerge onto the interstate with a sigh. I was stupid to think I could leave her behind so easily. Whether Avery wants it or not, I’m invested in her safety and I won’t be able to live with myself if I let her down.

  The sky is a murky purple by the time I pull into the motel’s tiny parking lot. The shabby, run down building has stepped straight out of a serial killer’s catalogue. Only a handful of curtains have a dim orange glow behind them, the rest of the two storeys are in complete darkness. I understand Nixon Hughes wants us to keep a low profile, but we are some of the country’s richest offspring – surely a small hotel with in-room coffee machines wouldn’t have been a huge stretch. My mother would have a heart attack if she saw me walk into a place like this. Actually, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea, maybe I’ll FaceTime her as I bathe amongst the inevitable filth and cockroaches.

  Switching off the engine, Dax appears in the entrance of a room on the lower level. His afro touches each side of the doorframe and he’s only wearing a pair of low-slung pyjama pants.

  “Hey, was starting to get worried. We stopped at an all-you-can-eat down the road, Garrett almost cleared them out but I got you a doggy bag,” Dax shouts over, turning to head back inside.

  “Don’t worry about it, I already ate,” I lie. “I’ll grab something from there if I need to.” I point at the vending machine a few rooms down, the flickering light inside making me certain it would take my money and switch off. The door beside Dax’s flies open and Garrett’s head pops out like a squirrel on the hunt for nuts.

  “He didn’t want it, did he?” He asks excitedly, bobbing on his heels. Dax shakes his head on a sigh and Garrett woops loudly, shoving past Dax and disappearing in his room. Axel appears in the doorway Garrett has just vacated, a white towel fastened around his waist and water droplets still clinging to his body. The three of us stand in a triangle of awkwardness, animalistic sounds and sensual moaning escaping Dax’s room. I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed anything the way Garrett enjoys food.

  “Where’s Avery?” I start to wonder as she doesn’t present herself, anxiety nipping at my heels like a vicious chihuahua. Dax signals to the door on his other side with his thumb.

  “She’s sleeping, there were only 3 rooms left so we agreed she should have her own. You’re sharing with me,” he smirks although I’m not in the mood to return it. I ought to be rooming with Avery, keeping watch while she rests. Glancing around the chipped paint covered walls and derelict reception area, I fail to see how there were only three rooms - it’s like a ghost town here. Garrett reappears to hurry back into his and Axel’s room clutching a napkin in his hands, no doubt concealing cake of some description.

  “I’m gonna hang out here for a while, stretch my legs and that.” I say, glad Dax buys it and leaves me be. Once the door clicks closed behind him, I slump against the car bonnet and cross my arms. I didn’t drive all day to play sleepovers, I came to watch over Avery and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. For as long as Nixon believes this threat on her life is real, so will I. Strolling back to my open window, I lean inside and pull out the pack of cigarettes I found in the side pocket earlier - no doubt left in there from the many times Dax has taken my car. I’ve noticed he hasn’t been smoking half as much since we arrived at the mansion and had started to think he’d kicked the habit, but the small box in my hand says otherwise.

  Flicking open the lid, I find 7 sticks and a yellow lighter inside. Should be enough to get me through the night since there’s no coffee machine in sight. Leaning against the car door, I pop a cigarette in between my lips and light it. The bitter taste is akin to acid but I’m going to need something to keep me going tonight. The thought of digesting actual food has been making me feel nauseous lately, so I’ve resolved to eating scraps here and there. For Avery. Pulling drags from the stick until only the butt remains between my fingers, I flick it across the concrete and throw myself back into my Nissan.

  In the glow of a streetlamp, I shift my eyes from window to window across the two floors, checking for curtain twitchers. A brass number ‘7’ hangs on Avery’s door with a paper ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign swaying slightly around the handle. There’s several cars in the car park, most of them old bangers so our Nissan and Bentley stick out like real diamonds in a pawnbrokers. Another good reason for me to play guard out here, otherwise the vehicles would more than likely be missing by morning.

  My eye-lids begin to feel heavy so I give my head a fierce shake, my hair whipping around my cheeks. Pulling another cigarette from the pack, I tease my tongue piercing between my teeth at the thought of the offending tar-like taste filling my mouth again. But what choice do I have? Avery needs protecting and if that means I lose her in the process, so be it.

  ∞∞∞

  A door slamming jolts me awake, my head flicking up to see Avery strolling from her room fresh as a daisy. Her golden hair rivals the sun’s waking rays, her wide smile putting the crisp morning to shame. Although that smile isn’t directed at me, it’s solely focused on Garrett who is also leaving her room with her overnight bag in his hands. Rage slams into me, pissed at myself for falling asleep but also at the slimy weasel who managed to worm his way in when I stayed away so she could sleep peacefully. Taking my eyes off the pair, I run a hand down my face and glance around the inside of the Nissan. A perfectly rounded hole is burnt into the edge of my leather seat, the offending cigarette butt lying by my foot on the floor. Fuck no.

  This day just went from irritating to full on hell. I hear my name being called as the pair notice me, so I turn the key for the engine to come to life and back out of the car park. Garrett’s arms flail as I turn onto the main road and speed off, deciding to meet them at the next motel check point after a day of brooding. There’s only two things that can soothe me right now, and as Avery has given up on her vow to help me heal since my pain is no longer external, the open road will have to do it.

  Wyatt

  A pitch-black moonless sky looms through the windows, but I can’t close my eyes whilst knowing what’s waiting for me there. Rubbing a hand down my face roughly, I pace in a circle at the foot of my bed. An old-fashioned clock on the chest of drawers irritates me with its insistent ticking, telling me I shouldn’t be awake. Tick. Tick. Tick. Growling, I stride for the door since I can’t stay in here another minute without smashing that fricking clock in a million pieces. Wrenching my door open, I go in hunt for some of those vitamins Rachel always has. Those little tablets must be herbal or some shit ‘cause they work wonders for my stress levels.

  Reaching the top of the blackened staircase, I freeze at the sight of a body collapsed by the bottom step. A shiver rolls through my spine, a slight tremble shifting into my fingers. There she is again. Her thinning hair fanned out across the floor, thickening as blood seeps from her skull. From this distance, I can merely see a shadow that’s growing darker by the second but in my mind’s eye, I can see every tiny detail. Especially her glassy green eyes which I see every time I look in the mirror.

  “It’s not real, it’s not real,” I whisper to myself as I creep slowly down the stairs, stepping widely to avoid the imaginary figure. As soon as my feet slap against the cold flooring, I turn right and half-run for the kitchen at the back of the house. The terrace outside the glass doors is swallowed by the night, casting everything around me in darkness. There isn’t another soul about, just me and the visions that refuse to leave me be.

  Walking through the kitchen doorway, an eerie outline by the fr
idge spins around quickly as I enter and makes me flinch. Her head is twitching side to side like a bird, the emerald orbs in her face never wavering from mine. Gritting my teeth, I stride past and yank the fridge door open, the woman disappearing in the bright light that glows from within. Pulling out the other half of the meatball sub I couldn’t stomach earlier, I close the door and lean against the counter. Glancing around, I seem to be alone as I stuff the food into my mouth, suddenly realising how hungry I am.

  Cooking is another one of Rachel’s fantastic traits, along with keeping this huge house spotless. I don’t know how or even why she does it, surely Rachel could spend the rest of her life relaxing by the pool being waited on if she wanted to. My only guess is she has learnt to distract herself from the missing presence of her daughter, a space I’m happy to fill for a while. She reminds me of the mom I had growing up, before they reclaimed their real child and turned their backs on me. I suppose in a way, I’m using Rachel as much as she’s using me.

  Devouring the sub in record time, I turn to rinse off the plate when I see the woman’s ghost pressed against the window. Jumping enough to drop the plate, which smashes loudly onto the floor, I lose my shit.

  “Leave me the fuck alone!” I yell, spinning away only to find a bloody shape sprawled across the floor. Her legs are twisted unnaturally, a look of horror on her pale face. Gripping the sides of my head tight enough to crack my skull in two, I clench my eyes shut and slide down the cupboard to hunch on the floor. Voices spring to life in my mind, swirling and shouting. They grow louder and louder, blurring into a whirlwind but one voice stands out amongst the rest. Ray’s crackled tone full of conviction. “Kill her!”