Dangerously Damaged: A Contemporary Dark Bully Romance (The Shadowed Souls Series Book 3)

by Abigail Cole

  “Anyways, I’d best get on. Ray is due back at some point today. Be sure to take this down to your friend, I reckon the guards are watching me a little too closely now.” Rachel picks up a styrofoam container she’d left on the bedside table and places it into my hands with a wink. A wave of steam escapes the box as I open it, a miniature version of my breakfast concealed within. Raising an eyebrow and opening my mouth to refute the ‘friend’ comment she made, Rachel whirls out and clicks the door shut behind her.

  After a good stretch and a quick change, I glance back at the container on the bed with a frown. It must have been days since Meg ate properly, and its fricking cold down there. She could have hypothermia already, not that I care. But if Rachel is prepared to ease her suffering before Ray has his way, then the least I can do is aid her too. Besides, I’ve done my part – I delivered her here. I never agreed to torture her pointlessly too. She’s a part of someone else’s plan, a means to someone else’s end.

  Pulling a second pair of cotton pyjama pants and socks on, I also don another top layer and head out of the room with the box in my hand. Taking the central stairs two at a time, I notice several guards pacing outside the lower windows as if they are expecting an attack. A man walks across the entrance hall, grinning at me shrewdly as if he recognises me but I’m sure I’ve never seen him before. His eyes are different colours, one brown and one blue, with a scar etched into his right eyebrow. He’s a strange mix of scrawny arms and legs, but with a rounded gut and slouch to his posture.

  Waiting on the bottom step for him to pass with a ‘don’t fuck with me’ scowl imbedded into my features, a soft chuckle escapes his crooked lips and he disappears. Creep. Rounding the bannister and reaching out for the hidden door’s handle, I can already hear Meg’s singing. Inching down the stone steps, I take a moment to listen to the eerily beautiful words leaving her lips, speaking of unfulfilled dreams and forgotten wishes. The electronic lanterns I left on are still faking flickers across the grey walls and casting shadows within Meg’s cell via the open grate. Reaching into my hoodie pocket, I remove the padlock’s key and unhitch the chain before slipping inside.

  “Good morning,” Meg halts mid-lyric to beam up at me from her place on the floor. “Well, if it’s even morning? I slept like the dead so who knows. Oops, maybe I shouldn’t be using that metaphor – yet.” She giggles to herself, sitting upright in an electric blue sleeping bag. Foil packets glint in the dim lighting and an empty bottle is beside her head. Oh Rachel, your big heart is going to get you in so much shit.

  “It’s morning,” I confirm gruffly and hold the container out for her, ignoring her jab about there being no coffee. Shutting the door behind me, I reach through the grate to secure the padlock in place and slump onto the hard floor. Meg groans loudly, chewing on a rasher of bacon with her eyes closed. Her hair is a ruffled mess around her shoulders like she’s been fucked each way until Sunday, and I hate to admit I prefer it that way. My t-shirt still hangs from her, the short sleeves making me feel cold even through my two layers of clothing.

  Remembering why I’m doubly dressed, I pull a rolled-up t-shirt from the pocket of my extra hoodie before shedding it, along with my top pyjamas and socks. Throwing them across to Meg, who is too huddled over her food to notice, I watch her with fascination.

  “Does anything ever affect you?” I have to ask, knowing I would be going insane already if the roles were reversed. Is she incredibly resilient or has she in fact already floated about with the fairies? Snapping off a chunk of the lid to use as a scoop for her eggs, she shrugs at me.

  “Only if I let it. But I’m more interested in why I’m being honoured with a visit from Perelli’s puppet himself. I thought you’d be too busy being patted on the head for being such a good boy to show your face down here again.” My eyes slide away, refusing to be goaded, noticing the toothpaste and soap on the sink, and shaking my head slightly. Shall we just order her a personal masseuse and get it over with?

  “I was bored, thought I’d come to torment you for a little while. Or we could wrestle again, that was good fun.” The devil is definitely present on my shoulder today, pushing me to play a dangerous game I might actually end up enjoying.

  “If you are looking to have your ass handed to you again, I’ll always be ready. But considering this cell is small enough without you slumped across it, how about I beat you at something else?” Placing down her empty container, Meg now sees the clothing and hurries to dress.

  Standing before me, she lifts the hem of my shirt she’s wearing and slips it over her head in one movement. My jaw literally drops, finding her bare underneath. I’d tried to avoid looking during our shower but now, with the light bouncing from her hardened nipples and the shadow curving beneath her full breasts, my tongue is threatening to hang out of my mouth. The hourglass dents to her waist sway as she stretches for my benefit until I manage to grit my teeth and look away. A shudder rolls along my body and through the hardened length of my cock as she dresses, my fingers itching to stop her.

  A small rock bouncing off my chest has me swinging back to see her sitting once again, cross legged and grinning ear to ear. She’s tucked the pyjama legs into my socks which reach halfway up her shins and zipped my hoodie all the way up to her chin. Leaning forward with her own rock in hand, she uses it to draw a grid on the stone slab between us and puts an ‘X’ in the top left-hand corner. Is this seriously what it’s come to?

  Snorting, I place a ‘O’ in the centre. She sniggers as if I’ve already made a mistake and plays her next turn while rolling her tongue across her teeth. A challenge lights in her eyes, daring me to try and beat her. I continue to thwart her every move until I realise my mistake, seeing too late she has three corners and will win by default. Refusing to see that happen, I draw a new grid next to it and we start over. And over. And over. Until the floor is covered and we’ve shifted onto the walls.

  I’m too distracted by her body language to concentrate, losing game after game of fucking noughts and crosses because she’s pushing her tongue into her cheek or nibbling her bottom lip. Pushing up onto her knees, she leans across me to place her damn ‘X’ on the space next to my mark, her body pressing against mine. My mouth is too close to her jaw, filling me with notions I shouldn’t even be considering.

  “Wouldn’t it have been nice if we’d could have had a chance to do this, you know…before.” She turns her head, the gleam of her eyes looking directly into mine. I sit back on my feet to put some distance between us, needing to clear my head.

  “You wouldn’t have spent time with me willingly before you were forced to.” I respond not liking how desperate I sound. Dropping the rock, I swivel to sit on her sleeping bag and pull my knees up to my chest. That’s enough games for today.

  “Ha, well I briefly thought I was dating you at one point. How idiotic is that?” My eyebrows raise in surprise as she nudges down beside me, urging her to explain. I hang off every word as she relays her catfishing story, unable to hold back my laughter when she describes the scrawny ginger guy who eventually turned up in my place. Her joyful presence is so alluring, especially in her final days. The thought kills my mood as I wonder how I thought eliminating such a bright light from the world would set me free.

  “What if it had been me?” I ask quietly, knowing this conversation is fruitless.

  “Well, at the time I had wanted it to be,” she admits shyly. I can’t tell but from the way she ducks her head into her shoulder, I imagine she’s blushing.

  “And now?” I press on, needing to hear her answer for some unknown reason. It’s pointless but feels important to me all the same. I need to know if there was a chance I could have been saved from this fate, guided down another path.

  “Now…I don’t think you even know who you are anymore so I can’t make that assumption. You don’t have to live up to whatever these people expect of you, you can still-”

  “These people accept me for who I truly am, a cold-hearted monster. I’ve d
one things you wouldn’t even believe.” My eyes cut across to the hunched figure scratching at the wall in the corner. She shouldn’t be down here, not after what she suffered in a cell like this because of me. I need to get her out. Standing suddenly, my fingers begin to shake as I pull the key from my pocket and hurry to unlock the chain on the outside. A cold sweat beads on my forehead, guilt shredding my insides. Meg is talking but I can’t hear her over the blood rushing through my ears, and when her hand lands on my shoulder, I shrug her off roughly.

  “Don’t go thinking I can change, Sweetness. I was born from a crackhead, there’s poison running through my blood stream. This is exactly who I was always destined to be, like you were destined to rot down here.”

  Avery

  My fist connects with Huxley’s jaw, pain slithering across my knuckles. “Stop holding back,” I growl, bending low to throw my shoulder into his abs. I manage to push him a step backwards before he twists sideways so I stumble forward. Catching myself before my face becomes best friends with the floor, I swing out my leg and groan as our shins crash together. “Fuck!” I shout, hopping on my good leg and holding the other to my body. This isn’t working. I’m so far off my game, I can’t concentrate and Huxley’s not even trying to retaliate anymore.

  “Maybe we should take five, have a short rest?” Huxley offers, helping me to hop over to the wall. I slouch back and rub the latest addition to the mass of bruises and bumps on my leg. Rolling my grey leggings back down, I peel off the matching vest and square my shoulders in a hot pink sports bra.

  “I can’t rest; I need to be ready.” For what, who knows but it helps me from feeling restless. Useless.

  “Burning yourself out won’t do anyone any good either. We’ve been at this for two hours now. Let’s get some lunch.” My eyes slide past Huxley’s head to see the sun has almost drifted directly overhead beyond the skylight, not that time has any concept to me anymore. Sleep is no longer a blessing while my mind is plagued with visions of Meg suffering, so I was happy to be woken by Huxley and dragged down to the gym. The space is clearly one of the newly renovated rooms in the house, each machine sparkling in chrome with no sign of use.

  “You go ahead, I’ll be out soon,” I lie. Moving over to a rack of dumbbells, I lift my usual weight before deciding against it, putting it back and selecting the next one down. I need to improve, push myself to uncomfortable limits. Huxley sighs loudly as he leaves, grabbing his t-shirt from the floor on the way out. The samurai scene splayed across his entire back shifts as he walks, the flex of building muscle beneath making me envious. It’s been so easy for him to bulk up while I’m struggling to even feel stronger.

  Falling into a routine of lifting the dumbbells into the air and dropping into a squat, sweat runs a line down my spine and my thoughts consume me. I know Meg’s alive; I can feel it in the pit of my soul, but that’s where my certainty ends. The lengths Wyatt will go to in hopes of proving himself to Perelli are my biggest concern. The second she’s safe, he’s a dead man walking. No matter what it takes, I’ll be ready to make sure of that. Huxley’s been a godsend, helping me train and keeping me busy because he understands. I don’t need saving, I need support.

  A shadow to my left makes me flinch. Cursing under my breath that I wasn’t focused enough to notice him approaching, I turn my back to Dax and continue squatting. This time, as I rise, I lift a leg, so the opposite elbow meets it in the middle and crunch my core tightly. My hair has fallen free of its bun, the hairband hanging loosely on the end, but I won’t stop. I can’t stop. Large hands land on my hips, holding me still as Dax closes in behind me. His hair tickles my ear, whispering for me to take a break.

  For a moment, I yearn to step back and let his warmth envelope me. Let his hands roam my flesh and lips erase my thoughts for a while. Sensing my defeat, his head leans onto mine and his thumbs paint slow circles over my leggings. What a pretty world he must live in, where hugs can heal wounds and words can grant wishes. But I learnt long ago, wishing is pointless. No one genuinely cares and no one fixes your problems without an ulterior motive. Clenching my jaw, I decide to allow Dax to give me exactly what I really need right now – target practice.

  Dropping the rubber weights onto the blue mat at my feet, I twist to throw an elbow into his ribs. An oomph of shock leaves his lips as I wheel around, slamming my palms into his chest to put some distance between us. A black tank top hugs his muscles like a second skin, his biceps falling loosely either side and baggy shorts hanging to his knees. Tearing my eyes away before I do something stupid, like lunge at him for a whole different reason, I turn to leave. His hand suddenly fists into my hair as he pulls me back into him with a yelp of surprise, his lips brushing against my ear.

  “Isn’t this what you wanted? To hurt me?” His voice is gravelled, as if he’s drowning in anguish, he has no right to feel. He made his bed, and I’m gonna make sure he stays in it. Stomping like a spoilt brat, Dax releases a bark of pain as my boot slams onto his bare toes. Jerking forward, I manage to escape his hold, ducking across the room to retie my hair high onto my head. His piercing blue eyes are locked on mine while we slowly prowl around each other.

  The air around us stills, the tension begging to be broken. Quickly rushing forward with a battle cry, I leap into the air to lock my legs around his middle, tugging on his Afro in the bitch move he used on me. I’m thrown onto my back with his weight crashing on top, causing the air to whoosh from my lungs sharply. I wriggle, not letting him grab my wrists like he’s trying to and throw punches into his side in quick secession. Somehow managing to shift my knees into between the cage of our bodies, I push him aside and roll away quickly. Scrambling up to my feet, his hand catches my ankle and drags me back down.

  Throwing my free foot backwards, it connects with his face and I still. Glancing over my shoulder, Dax is smirking around his busted lips like a crazed lunatic. Its then the truth hits me. He wants me to hurt him, wants to be punished. And knowing I’m playing right into his hand ruins the appeal to me. “Let go,” I huff, shifting to sit on the mat and glare at him irritably.

  “You can’t just decide to quit when Perelli’s men are after you,” he growls, tightening his grip on my ankle. Dragging me closer, Dax shifts to crawl up my body until his heaving chest is brushing mine. “You can never stop fighting, even if you feel like there’s nothing left to fight for.” My eyebrows remain dipped, a scowl cemented into my features for him. I attempt to swiftly jerk my knee upwards to catch him in the balls, only to find my thighs are pinned beneath his. Pushing at his chest, he catches my hands and lifts them above my head, leaving me open and vulnerable. He grinds the bulge in his pants against my core and I hate myself for the flood of heat that pools there.

  “If it comes to being me or Meg, I won’t fight at all.” I breathe, failing to keep my eyes away from his lips. Those lips that promised to protect me, begged me to be his. They press into a hard line, his frustration clear but I simply shrug. “I’m just a means to an end. I’ve been telling you this whole time; my life has no worth.”

  “To me it does! I couldn’t protect my mom from my dad before she died, so I won’t let you throw your life away.” He grits through his teeth, pushing himself upright with a slight shove at my restrained hands. I lie still, watching him stalk from the room with his posture more rigid than a metal rod. Sighing, I shift my hands beneath my head as stare at the sun-kissed skylight above until I’m seeing spots. Dax will learn soon enough; not matter what he says I’ll never value myself. That vague level of self-appreciation most people should have was stamped out of me and I’ve been ready to leave this world for a long time. He’ll move on, eventually.

  A tabby cat pads across the glass above me, the pink pads of its paws leaving dirty marks across the windowpanes. I chuckle to myself, following the animal until plops itself down and proceeds to lick itself. I bloody love cats. They don’t give a shit about anything other than eating good food and staying dry, knowing humans are inferior to t
heir constant whining. A sparrow flies overhead, drawing the feline’s full attention until it takes chase. Running on agile white feet, the cat leaps high into the air off the edge of the building and falls out of sight. “Oh shit- “

  “Don’t worry about Comet, he’s fucking invincible.” A familiar voice I’ve missed draws my attention to the doorway. Axel is leaning against Garrett, their arms draped over one another like they can’t get close enough. Shadows of hair growth are starting to show in certain spots across his head, emphasising how much of a shit job we did, and I stifle a laugh behind my hand. His amber eyes are twinkling, his smirk soothing a slither of my stress.

  “Comet?” I snigger, pushing myself upright. The urge to run into his arms is overwhelming but the dressing strapped across his abdomen stops me. His torso is bare and black lounge pants hang low on his hips, the slight clench of his grip around Garrett’s shoulders betraying his relaxed appearance.

  “Don’t judge me, I was six-years old and I’ve always been a nerd at heart. The brain needs exercise too.” If it hadn’t been for current circumstances, I’d have dropped my panties right there and thrown them at him. The heat-filled side glance Garrett’s gives him tells me he feels the same, a mental image of Garrett in a matching pink thong to mine making me laugh out loud. A stitch pulls at my side from the strange tug of happiness, I can’t pull back now it’s been set loose. The pair eye me curiously, huge grins stretching across their faces as the laughter brings tears to my eyes. Damn, I really needed that.