by Bea Paige
“Do you remember that time when I stayed at your house?”
Spinning on his feet so he faces me, he narrows his eyes. I ignore the harshness of his stare, and the sharp glint in his emerald orbs, reminding me of the broken bottle he’d once used to cut a kid who wronged him. “Where’s this going?”
“Stop answering every question with another question. Do you remember or not?” I repeat.
“Yes, of course I fucking remember.” He swings his bag up onto his shoulder and strides towards the door. I rush forward, getting there before he does, kicking it shut and blocking his way. If he can do it, then why the fuck can’t I?
“It was one of the happiest times of my life…”
“What’s the point of all this?” he asks, running his gaze up and down my length, feigning boredom when really I see the restless, baying beast just beneath the surface. When we were kids that beast would come out in a number of ways, aggression when dancing, sarcasm in a serious conversation, humour to disguise desire, withdrawal when everything got too much. I wonder, if pushed, what it would look like now.
“What is the point?” I muse out loud, laughing a little. “Christ, I don’t know Xeno. I suppose I was trying to work out who the man is that stands before me now. I’m trying to work out if the boy I loved is still there within him.”
“Well, I can help you with that. That boy is fucking gone.” He hunches over, nostrils flaring like a bull ready to impale its tormentor. I nod, wishing he’d just let out his anger in dance like the others did. Except that’s never been Xeno’s style. There’s always been something that holds him back from really sharing himself with me.
“Why are you here, Xeno?” I wish he would just tell me the truth and save us both the heartache.
Tell me what David wants to know. Tell me so I can keep Lena safe.
For a moment I actually consider being truthful, completely truthful, then I’m reminded that Jeb would kill me and Lena for it before David could even get his hands on me. So I swallow down my truths and push a little harder.
“Why are you here, Xeno?” I repeat.
He scoffs, shaking his head. “I thought I made that clear at Rocks.”
“So you want to punish me, is that it?”
“That would imply that I actually give a shit about you. That any of us do.”
“Yet, you’re all here at Stardom Academy. Every night I wonder if I’m going to find another one of you lying on my bed waiting to fucking pounce.”
“What are you talking about?”
“York broke into my flat last Friday, just to fucking mess with me…”
“He did what?” Xeno snaps, but I don’t explain further, he can go ask York himself.
“You’ve coerced me into attending these bachata lessons,” I continue. “Today I’ve had to endure watching you dance with every fucking girl bar me, just like when we were kids. You forced me to battle Dax knowing what that would do to me, and then paired me up with him just to dig the fucking knife in. You kissed me at Rocks knowing that would get back to Jeb.
Why, if not to punish me?”
“I told you, we’re here to reclaim what’s ours…” he answers automatically, as though that vague, bullshit response is enough of an explanation.
“Reclaim what’s yours?” I push, cocking my head to the side as I rest my hand on his chest. Could he mean me? Or is that just wishful, desperate thinking on my part? Xeno stiffens at my touch, but he doesn’t step away. In fact, he steps closer, crowding me. His gym bag drops to the floor as he lifts his hands and slams them against the door on either side of my head.
“Oh, I see. You think we’re back to reclaim you, Pen.” He barks out a laugh. “Don’t flatter yourself. I didn’t want you back when we were kids, and I sure as fuck don’t want you now.” Shadows flitter across his face in his attempt to dissolve our memories into charcoal and dust, but like a phoenix rising from the ashes, I remind him of the fire that was always there between us.
“Bullshit! I have a good memory, Xeno. I remember what you’d said to me. I remember how you looked at me when you didn’t think I noticed. I remember the jealousy in your eyes when York, Zayn and Dax kissed me. I’m not a fool. You loved me too. Maybe not now, but back then you did.”
“Back then I told you what you wanted to hear because you were my friend, because I felt sorry for you, nothing more.”
“And now?” I ask, humouring him because I know that’s crap.
“Now,” he leans over, pressing his lips against my ear. “You mean shit to me.”
“That kiss told me otherwise,” I retort, grinding my teeth and swallowing the bitter taste of rejection and the sharp shards of his hate.
“That kiss was a fucking warning, Pen.”
“A warning?”
“Yes, a warning,” he hisses, sending my blood boiling.
“Kissing me was a bad fucking idea. You of all people should know that.”
“Oh, you think Jeb didn’t know?” Tipping his head back, Xeno laughs cruelly. “He’s the one who ordered me to do it.”
“What? Why?”
“It was a test, Pen.” He slams his mouth shut, yanking back his hands, and stepping away from me.
“A test?” I press, stepping into his space, not letting him off so easily.
Xeno scrapes a hand over his face, schooling his features into a mask. “This conversation is over. Get the fuck out of my way.”
He's shaking now, visibly trembling, and I don’t understand it at all. Not one for letting anything go and throwing caution to the wind, I line my body up against his. “What test, Xeno?” I ask, tipping my head back to look up at him.
For a moment he just stares down at me, and all I see is conflict burning brightly in his green orbs. When his hands come up to grip my face in his palms, a cool kind of calm seems to wash over him, like the current of a salt water lake caressing a stone on its banks.
“I was the only one who never kissed you. Never crossed the fucking line. Jeb believes it was because I cared too much.”
“He was right…”
“No, he was wrong. Just like you are now.”
“That’s bullshit. Tell yourself what you need to if it makes you feel any better, but I know how you felt about me. How you still feel about me. It’s so obvious now.”
“You’re delusional.” He glares at me, his fingers gripping my face harshly. “I kissed you because you mean nothing to me. To prove to Jeb that I don’t give a shit. Kiss you, don’t kiss you. Mess with you, don’t mess with you. We’re here for one thing and one thing only and it has fuck all to do with you! You can fight me on it all you like, but it won’t change the fact that you’re insignificant, Pen.”
“So insignificant that you threatened to kill Frederico if he came near me again when we were kids? So insignificant that when you caught Zayn and me making out on your bed when we were younger you watched us both with fucking love and lust in your eyes? So insignificant that you couldn’t keep your hands off me in the dance studio last week? So insignificant that you’re full of rage right now? Stop lying to yourself.”
“Frederico was a thorn in the Skin’s side and was dealt with accordingly, it really had shit all to do with you. There might’ve been lust in my eyes when I watched you and Zayn, but it was the equivalent of watching a porno. I was a boy and it was a good show. As for dancing with you last week, it was nothing more than me fucking with your head…”
“And the anger? If you really don’t give a shit about me, why so goddamn angry?”
“I’m full of rage because you’re in my damn way.”
He lets me go with a shove and a well of anger rises up within me because I know. I know he’s lying. You don’t get to love someone as long as I have and not know when they’re lying to you. What’s that saying: he doth protest too much? Right now Xeno is full of shit. He fucking reeks of it. Reaching for him as he tries to sidestep around me, my fingers curl into his t-shirt, scrunching the material in my hands.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Believe what you like, Pen. You could offer yourself up to Zayn, York and Dax, and I wouldn’t give a shit,” he snaps, a cruel smile carving across his face.
“Be careful what you wish for, Xeno,” I warn, before slamming my lips against his and kissing him with all the hurt, anger, hate, lust, and love I can muster. This is me fighting back. This is me showing him what he missed out on when we were kids, and what the other Breakers experienced when he was too fucking stubborn to do the same.
He steps back, trying to pull away, but I chase him, grasping the back of his head and forcing my kiss on him, forcing my tongue inside his mouth. Just like he did to me at Rocks, I’m stealing a kiss now. I don’t care if he wants it or not. I don’t care if he’s disgusted, pissed off, indifferent, angry. He needs to know that I’m not to be fucked with. I refuse to let him pretend that I meant nothing, that I mean nothing now.
I refuse.
When his lips finally respond, when his arms wrap around my back and his fingers dig painfully into my hips as he clings on tightly, like he never, ever wants to let me go, I break the kiss even though it’s the last thing I want to do. Releasing him, I step back, my lips as bruised as my heart.
“Maybe you should have accepted what I was offering back when we were kids. Maybe if you had kissed me like the others did then none of this would’ve happened.”
I realise how stupid that sounds, that I’m suggesting we’d all be together now if only he’d given in and kissed me, but it’s always felt like he was the missing link. That if he’d allowed himself to fall like the others had before it was too late, then we wouldn’t be where we are now. That together we could’ve dealt with my brother and Jeb, somehow.
“A kiss wouldn’t have changed a thing. This kiss doesn’t change a damn thing. You’re still…”
“Don’t! Don’t ever say that what we shared was insignificant,” I cut in, refusing to let him say that damn word one more time. “Because one day, Xeno, you’re going to kiss me with love and when that day comes, we’ll both be fucked and there won’t be a damn thing I can do about it.”
Turning on my feet, I storm out of the studio, leaving him with the one truth I want to run from. This isn’t going to end well for the Breakers or for me, but I have no fucking choice. Lena’s life is under threat and I won’t allow her to be David’s next victim. I won’t.
28
Three years ago
“Hey, Pen. You awake?” Zayn asks me as he pops his head around Xeno’s bedroom door, looking ruffled from sleep.
I yawn, peering at him from beneath the duvet that smells so deliciously of Xeno. I’ve spent all day in bed wrapped up in his scent of spiced musk. Now I feel rested and calm. By the looks of it, Zayn has been sleeping all day too.
“Where is everyone? What time is it?” I ask. Wondering at what point Dax and York left me to sleep after our encounter. My cheeks heat and my skin flushes at the memory of York’s hand between my legs and both their cocks in my hands.
“It’s five in the afternoon. York had to go home before his mum called the cops, and Dax is out getting us some pizza.”
“Five? Fuck, I’ve slept for like twelve hours or something.”
“Yeah. You needed the rest,” Zayn says, stepping into the room.
“I…”
My words are lost as he saunters over to the bed, topless, with just his jeans hanging low on his hips. A smattering of dark hair covers his pec and a line of softer hair runs downwards from his belly button, disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans. Zayn is older than me by almost a year, and just like the rest of my Breakers he’s already a man even though his age would suggest otherwise.
“What’s up, Pen?” he grins at me, his night-time eyes sparkling with mirth and something a little darker as I sit up, the duvet revealing my bruises and my bra covered tits. “Fucking Christ.” His mirth disappears as he looks at the damage caused by David’s fists.
Sighing, I give him a tumultuous smile. “They don’t hurt so much now,” I lie. They still hurt like a bitch, but I don’t want his pity and I see so much of it in his eyes right now.
“York told us what he’s been doing to you, Pen. I’m so sorry…” His voice trails off as he pulls back the covers and climbs into bed next to me.
“Why are you sorry? You didn’t do this,” I respond quietly as he shuffles close to me, pulling me into his arms. I rest my cheek against his chest, my fingers reaching for the dark hair growing across his skin. Breathing in, I draw in his familiar scent of honeyed bread and weed.
“Because he hurt you. Because I feel fucking helpless to do anything to stop it. Because… because I love you, Pen,” he admits, his arms circling me, holding me close. Zayn has always been honest with me, and his honesty now is the biggest gift I could ask for. It means everything.
Shifting in his hold, I sit up, straddling him. My hair falls over my shoulders, the ends tickling his chest as I lean forward and press my forehead against his. “I love you too.” It feels so easy to say those precious words. I like the way they make me feel, and I like the happiness that lights up Zayn’s face when I say them back.
“We tried talking to Jeb about David…” he suddenly blurts out, his fingers caressing my spine.
“And?”
“And he didn’t want to listen.” Zayn breathes out a long sigh, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Pen.”
I nod, and I know he isn’t just apologising for not being able to persuade Jeb to do something about my brother. He’s apologising for everything else too. He’s apologising for the fact they’re part of the Skins crew. He’s apologising for the fact that they’ve bad done things to earn expensive motorbikes, that the rumours about them are true.
My Breakers break bones.
But like last night, I don’t want to think about David, about Jeb or the Skins, about who these boys will eventually turn into. I want to live in the now and hang onto our friendship because it’s the only good thing in my life besides Lena.
Zayn rests his head back on the wall and looks up at me, watching me carefully as I inch closer. My fingers trace his lips as I stare into his oynx eyes, loving the way his dark orbs drink me in.
“What are you doing, Pen?” he asks, a rueful smile playing about his lips as my fingers lower, tracing the length of his neck and feathering across his collarbone.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I whisper, leaning closer to him and brushing my lips against his forehead.
“I didn’t say I love you to get you into bed…”
“You’re already in bed, Zayn.”
“You know what I mean. This isn’t about that,” he says, looking up at me.
“I know, but this is what people in love do, right? They kiss, they make each other feel good.” Memories of York and Dax filter back in, and I react, rocking my hips against his dick that is growing between us.
“Pen, I’m not sure…”
“I want to do this. I want to kiss you, Zayn. I’m not a feeble, weak thing. I bear the evidence of my strength right here,” I say, pointing to my bruises. “David hurt me, and I want to erase every bruise, every punch, every bad word, every snide comment from my skin and my heart. I want you to help me to do that.”
I’m fully aware that in the early hours of this morning I professed the same to York and Dax, but I don’t feel guilty about it. They all know how I feel, and aside from Xeno, they’ve not pushed me away despite knowing I love them all. This is how I want to heal.
For the first time, dance isn’t enough.
“Then I will make sure every last memory of that bastard hurting you is replaced with ones of love,” he responds fiercely, grasping the back of my head and slanting his lips over mine. His mouth parts on a sigh as his hands find my hips and dip beneath the waistband of Xeno’s joggers that I’m still wearing, minus my knickers. I took them off after they left, feeling uncomfortable in the soaked material.
“Pen!
” He mutters against my mouth, shocked at my bare arse that his hands are so firmly clutching now.
“Zayn!” I mock, smiling as I rock my hips and slide my tongue between his parted lips, searching for his words of love, wanting to taste them, swallow them, needing them to satiate the hunger and appease the starvation I’ve endured for so fucking long. Yesterday, I didn’t know what to expect, what might happen, but now York and Dax have shown me the way, I know what I want and it might be more than just a kiss.
With one hand firmly grabbing my arse, his other finds its way to my bra strap and with deft fingers, has unhooked it. It’s actually quite impressive how he manages to do that so easily, though I suppose he’s had plenty of practice. I push that thought away, not wanting to think about how many girls he kissed and touched before me. My bra slides off my shoulders as our tongues, lips and teeth, search, soothe and bite.
Our kisses become more and more intense as his fingers find my breasts and his thumb rolls over my nipple, teasing me and sending bolts of sensation right to my core. I react, pressing myself against the length of his cock, thick beneath his jeans. With a slick pussy and a full heart, I reach between us, my nails trailing down his chest and abs, desperate to hold him in my palm.
“I knew I should’ve fucking come upstairs myself,” a dark voice says from the doorway.
We break apart, panting, and my cheeks flush a deep pink. I almost reach up to cover my bare breasts, but think better of it. Tipping up my chin, I look at Xeno defiantly. I won’t be made to feel ashamed. I appreciate him letting me stay here, I really do, but I won’t stop loving these boys just because he says so. The thing is, when I meet his gaze, I don’t see anger or disappointment. I see something else. Desire.
Hot, molten, raging desire.
He’s turned on. I’m sure of it.
“Xeno… I love her,” Zayn says calmly. He’s firm, sure of himself in the moment, and he doesn’t let me go. In fact he pulls me tighter against him, resting his lips against my collarbone and running his tongue over the mound of my breast.