by Abigail Cole
“Is that what you need from me, an apology? Or would you rather I reserved my energy to save you from this place?” he tilts his head forward to search my eyes for an answer.
“I don’t need anything from you. I’m a fucking warrior, so pull up a chair and grab a tub of popcorn while I save myself.” He chuckles against my forehead, his luscious lips in the focal point of my eyeline.
“Trust me, Meg, I know you’re a warrior. But warriors don’t fight alone.” His words threaten to have my walls crumbling down, every argument dying a sudden death on my tongue. Tears prick my eyes as I struggle against the two voices simultaneously urging me on and pulling me back. Can I trust him? Is it possible I don’t have to face this alone anymore? Don’t be so ridiculous. Surely, he’s toying with me, bored of his easy life so he’s come to pry on my insecurities.
“Why aren’t you eating your meals?” Wyatt suddenly changes tactic with what sounds like genuine concern, but I won’t be so easily fooled. Not while ‘Property of Perelli’ has been tattooed across my flesh in invisible ink and Wyatt is still relying on the old man’s praise to feel accepted.
“What’s the point in delaying the inevitable?” I shrug out of his grip at long last, despite the protests of my inner hussy. That bitch needs to clamp it down, I’m trying to die in peace here. Taking the blanket with me, I edge across the ground and prop myself against the wall. Wyatt twists to grab a hidden item from behind his back before scooting over to me, placing a steaming travel mug in my hands. Holy mother of caffeine. My fingers skim his as I accept the mug, inhaling the intensely rich scent until it has filled my lungs.
“What’s the point in suffering more than you have to?” Wyatt leans over me to speak directly into my ear, his stubble grazing my cheek. There’s an unusual shift in his eyes, those orbs of green regarding me for a moment before pulling back. He remains still, sitting back on his ankles until I realize he is waiting. Resting the lid against my bottom lip, I blow gently before taking a sip. Creamy sweetness skates across my tongue, a secret shot of caramel gliding down my throat on a husky moan. My toes unfurl and my body loosens as I continue to drink until I’ve melted into a puddle of brief bliss. Simple pleasures and all that.
Wyatt’s full attention is on me, his striking face taking on a solemn light. I attempt to smile for him, but my lips don’t shift, my eyebrow twitching in confusion. My shoulders have slumped to the side, the coffee cup slipping through my immobile fingers. The door opens suddenly, the orange glow filtering in to show Wyatt’s pitying gaze. Inside my mind, I’m thrashing and screaming every curse word I can at him, but I can barely get the ‘ffff’ past my lips. Black spots dance across my vision, my head lolling of its own accord.
He tricked me, again. And the worst part is I fell for it – again! My body is lifted back into the cradle of Wyatt’s arms as he carries me from the cell, up the staircase and into the central house. Nixon’s protests are cut off by the slamming of the cellar door, the entire underground section seemingly soundproof. Warmer yet fresher air tickles my nostrils as my vision blurs in and out. The second I have control of my arms again, I’m going to cause Wyatt so much pain, he’ll wish he’d left me to rot.
Lying me onto a cushy sofa with more care than I thought he was capable of, Wyatt’s hair flicks forward into my face as he presses a patronizing kiss on my cheek and speaks in a low tone so only I can hear. “For what it’s worth, I am truly sorry for bringing you here.”
Avery
One of the reasons I hate living out of bags is that I can never find anything I want, even though there’s nowhere for my fluffy, grey socks to hide. Pulling out every item of clothing I have, I spill the duffle bags contents across the floor with no success. I bet Huxley’s stolen them. Tugging his bag out from beneath the bed, I scoop out his sports kit and handfuls of white t-shirts.
“Ha!” I laugh to myself, my socks bundled up at the bottom. Replacing his weirdly neat stacks of folded clothes, I push the bag back into place and pull the socks on, covering the bottom on my purple leggings. Moving to stand, a crumpled piece of paper hanging from the side pocket of Huxley’s bag catches my attention, the fancy script seeming odd for a man’s tastes. Not able to resist, I sneak a quick peak and my heart plummets when I see my own name scrawled across the top.
My eyes race over the words twice, picking out key information before I drop back onto my heels and read it steadily. My limbs freeze up, an all-consuming ache growing so rapidly in my chest I forget how to breathe. I’m trapped between feeling elated I finally have a way to see Meg and furious that Huxley kept this from me. Questions race through my mind, none of which I can fathom the answers to alone.
Jumping to my feet, I storm into the hallway on a warpath to find him. He will feel my rage, see my pain, and look me in the eye while he explains to me how he could have this kind of decision on my behalf. I make it three steps until Dax steps out of the bathroom in just a towel and collides with me. His arms reach out to steady me, but I slap them away and then shove at his chest for good measure. Fuck him. Fuck them all for thinking I’m a meek, little girl that can’t look after herself. They can shove their chauvinistic tendencies up their arses.
“Hey, wait,” Dax grabs into my arm as I try to leave him far, far behind. “What’s happened?” I whip back around with my fist raised, slamming it into his cheek without any hesitation.
“You happened!” I cry, attempting to swing again but he catches my wrists. Spinning and pushing me up against the wall, Dax pins me in place with the length of his body. His bronzed skin is damp from a recent shower, my fingers lingering a beat too long on his firm pecs. Growling at myself, I thrash and buck wildly, refusing to let him hold me back once again. He only moves in closer, every ridge of his abs pressing against me and his breath fanning my face.
“That’s enough.” I go slack and turn my head away so I can’t fall victim to his piercing blue eyes and full lips.
“No.” He replies simply. His erection is growing between us, only the press of our bodies holding the towel in place. “It’ll never be enough until you take what you need from me. Break my hopes of ever having you, crush my heart to dust, ruin me for anyone else. I want your hatred and will take all of your punishment.” My eyes alight with the challenge, the warring emotions churning within my chest aching for the outlet he’s offering.
“I won’t be able to hold back.” He groans like that’s the filthiest thing he’s ever heard, biting down on his bottom lip.
“Then don’t.” The next second, my mouth is crushed against his and a moan spills between us. I’d forgotten how his lips are silky soft yet demanding, drawing my desire to the surface in an instant. Releasing my wrists, his hands trail a path of heat down my body and lift me by my ass. Winding my legs around his waist, I plunge my tongue into his mouth as he carries us out of the hallway with powerful strides. Our tongues mould together, stroking and caressing with an urgency to get closer.
My back is used to close a door, his thick erection pressing against my core demandingly. I whip away the limply hanging towel, the need to drown in his body driving my actions. Keeping me pinned in place with his hips, Dax breaks our kiss to pull my sports vest and bra over my head in one smooth move. My lips instantly find his again, licking and nibbling a path along his jaw and down his neck before biting hard into his collar bone. My nails score lines down his chest and abs until they find his cock, a hiss escaping him as I drag my nails up his rigid length.
Lifting me higher against the door, his lips wrap around one of my hardened nipples and I arch my back in response. Teasing the other between his fingers, he alternates between sucking and licking, ending on a painful clamp of his teeth which makes me yelp and then beg for him to do it again. I shamelessly rub my core against his chest as he repeats the process on my other breast, writhing with a building heat that threatens to burn me alive.
Spinning us around, he moves again and throws me back onto a springy mattress. My leggings and black thon
g are whipped off, his mouth closing over my clit before I’ve managed to catch my breath. I gasp, my wetness mixing with the rough pad of his tongue that licks a slow path up my centre. A flood of lava rushes to my core almost instantly, a groan escaping me as I try to hold it at bay. Each powerful suck and flick of his tongue keeps me hanging on the edge, fisting my hands in the cover and my eyes clenched shut. Two long digits plunge inside me and my walls clench around them tightly, the full force of my orgasm making me scream his name. My hands grasp his blonde Afro and hold him firmly in place while I ride out the waves of my climax, his tongue continuing to swirl around my pulsing bud mercilessly until I’m jerking and sprawled back into the mattress.
Giving me no reprieve, Dax looms over me within seconds to press his lips against mine, gentler this time. I lose myself in his touch, slipping my hand around his neck to pull him as close as possible. His masculine scent, the rough stubble lining his jaw, the body I ache to have wrapped around me every night. Our kiss is filled with the longing for impossible possibilities, jerking me back to reality. I can’t have this with Dax or anyone, but what I can have is one last glimpse of happiness.
Breaking the intimacy between us, I push Dax onto his back and straddle his hips, sinking myself onto his solid length to avoid his questioning gaze. His body is mine in the moment, to use for my pleasure and forget about my impending date with the devil. Leaning forward on his chest and pinning his thighs beneath my feet, I begin to lift and ease myself back down leisurely. My inner walls stroke him, his ridges rubbing within me deliciously.
No matter how enticing his glistening lips look, I keep him at a literally arm’s length, bouncing my hips to quicken the rise of my next orgasm. I need the release more than my next breath, a blissful few seconds of never-ending pleasure to grip onto when everything turns bleak. Sitting upright and fully impaled, I grind my hips back and forth, my head thrown back with my breathy moans filling the room. My hair is tickling the curve of my butt and no doubt, his balls, and thighs as I build up a rhythm, rocking in a fluid motion.
Suddenly, Dax lurches upright and his body crushes against mine. Pulling his Afro free of its restraint, he grasps my hair in his hands and winds it on top of my head, tying it in place with his band. I melt into his body, allowing myself a brief respite from fighting. His arms wind around my back, the raised bumps of my scars exposed to his touch from beneath the phoenix tattoo. Holding me tightly in place, he rocks and bucks beneath me, his dick pressing firmly against my G spot. I cross my ankles behind his back, gripping onto him as if he might disappear. My nails are imbedded in his tensed biceps, every jolt of his cock making me gasp and moan.
There’s no need for a rushed pace, each roll of his hips reaching deep and filling me so completely. Latching onto his neck, I suck fiercely to leave a mark on him that will last long after I’ve gone. My breasts brush against his chest, everywhere I end he begins. Clasping my nape in one large hand and tilting my lower back forward with the other one, my walls begin to flutter around him. Tilting my chin up, he swallows my scream in his mouth as another climax slams into me, strangely more intense than the first. Dax follows me, his explosion pushing against mine and our groans mingling together. He kisses me deeply, pouring every ounce of raw passion into me until we have to break for air and slump into each other’s arms.
“Why do I feel like that was the last time we’ll be like this?” He whispers in my ear, his warmth permanently seeping into my skin as I say a silent goodbye. Placing a soft kiss on his cheek, I ease myself from him, picking up his damp towel from the floor to clean myself up and dress without a word. I feel his eyes tracking me the entire time, sitting patiently on the edge of the bed for me to answer his question. Placing my hand on the door handle, I sigh deeply, knowing after the way I’ve just used him, he deserves more than to live with ‘what ifs’ for the rest of his life.
“I’ve discovered where to find Perelli and I’m leaving to be with Meg. Don’t follow me, I have to go alone. But do know if anyone could have been a perfect match for me, it would have been you. Maybe in another lifetime...” I risk a glance at his panicked eyes before darting into the hallway and back into my room, shoving on my oversized green hoodie and white Converse before grabbing Huxley’s keys from the bedside table. I’ve made it halfway down the staircase when Dax’s shouts reach me, yanking up his tracksuit bottoms as he chases after me. Grabbing a hold of my arm as I reach the bottom step, he whirls me back into his chest, but I twist and pull out of his grip.
“Avery, you can’t go. They will kill you!”
“I know,” I breathe. His eyebrows knit together in confusion, reaching for me once again which I dodge. “I’ve been upfront with you since the day we met. My life is a means to an end, a shit storm with a few rays of sunshine. Dying alongside my twin is the best way I could hope to go.”
“I’m begging you not to do this. Stay with me, we’ll find another way.” I wish he was right, that there was any chance of saving Meg and having the future only he could provide me with. I reach up to cup his cheek and he leans into my touch, so much hope radiating through his features it destroys the last dim ember in my heart.
“I can’t leave her to face this alone.” Stepping back, I force myself out of the front door and unlock Huxley’s Nissan, my resolve taking the impact of a sledgehammer with every step.
“It can’t end this way. Tell me how to help, I’ll do anything. I didn’t save you for you to walk straight back into their clutches.” I still with my hand on the driver’s handle, rage taking place of any sympathy I just felt.
“You only saved me for your own selfish purposes!” I whip back around and level him with a scowl. “If you’d wanted to help, you would have handed me over, so Meg didn’t take my share of suffering. I’d die a thousand times by her side rather than live a life she’s not a part of. You knew that, and you kept me here, so I’d stay with you. You trapped me here and you are one who has been causing my suffering.”
Dax’s mouth drops open, his body going slack. Swallowing down the tears I refuse to let him see, I throw myself into the car and slam the door closed between us. Revving the engine, his palm rests on the closed window, muffled words leaving his lips I don’t want to hear. “Avery please, I love- “. I push my foot to the floor on the accelerator and speed out of the driveway without looking back.
Wyatt
“Where has she been taken?” I demand the second my footsteps over the threshold to Ray’s darkened office, trying not to sound as protective as I feel. He’s made me stand around outside for well over an hour while he ‘dealt with some business’, an hour of pacing and fisting my hair in my hand since she’s been gone. I’m glad I convinced him how much extra hassle she would be to move whilst awake, hoping this small reprieve will save her unnecessary force from the beefy guard that carried her out. My fingers are aching to clasp her face in my hands and make sure there isn’t a single hair out of place on her hair or so help me, I’ll be adding causal murderer to my resume.
“All in good time, sit down Wyatt. We have much to discuss.” I shift foot to foot in the doorway, knowing I don’t have a choice. Closing the mahogany door behind me, I sit in the armchair facing Ray’s desk and rest my elbows on my thighs, eager to get this over with. Smoke fills my lungs and a choke lodges in my throat, the glowing embers from Ray’s cigar just visible amongst the swirling cloud around him. There’s a new machine in the room, silently monitoring his heartbeat through the electrode pads covering his bare chest.
“Do you want to tell me what happened with Mr Walters?” My eyes shift to the clock on the sideboard, my leg shaking impatiently which Ray mistakes for nerves. Sliding his engraved cigar box towards me, he reaches over to switch on the tabletop lamp so I can see the question in his quirked eyebrows. “My men had no qualms with him being here and you’ve been spending a fair amount of time downstairs lately....” his voice trails off as if he’s coaxing a confession from a five-year-old.
“He loo
ked at me the wrong way,” is all I can think to say without alerting him to the fact Meg managed escape on my watch. More for her sake than mine. A sinister grin grows across his wrinkled face.
“That’s my boy.” Leaning back in his leather chair, his faded tattoos catch my attention. A skyline of Sydney which has been made to mimic his heartbeat, from the opera house to harbour bridge straight across his wrinkled chest. I can’t tell if Ray was a good father, his love for his lost daughter clear but he hardly seems the type to bounce a little girl on his knee and teach her to ride a bike.
Ignoring my probing look which clearly reads ‘What the fuck am I doing here?’, Ray pulls his cell from the drawer to his right and checks a message, grunting as he types out a reply with the volume on. My teeth grind together with the tippetty tip tap of his thumbs hitting the screen. He’s purposely prolonging this meeting out, testing my patience and obedience. Finally, he puts away his cell and focuses on me, crossing his arms across his front.
“I’ve had to make a difficult decision to proceed with the next stage of my plan. You’ve done a great job so far, but it’s time for you to step away.” No. “Meg has been moved to another secure location and trust me when I say this it will be for your own good. Don’t worry though, there is another way to sate your anger. While I’m away taking care of the girls, I’ve decided to give you Nixon. Do whatever you like with him, we have a clean-up crew on standby.” I open my mouth but no words come out. I should have been jumping at the chance to be relieved from babysitter duty and to have Nixon at my mercy, but for some unknown reason, neither of those options sounds appealing anymore.
“What makes you think you can find Avery all of a sudden?” I ask, an uncomfortable twisting in my gut which I can’t explain.