With girl’s things always feel like a competition, or like anything I say will be used against me later in a bitch fight. Take Tasha, for example; whenever I’ve shown an interest in a new guy, it’s like she or Allison suddenly have an interest in the same guy. Last year I even pretended to have a crush on Travis. I succeeded in my little experiment to see that both girls went after him once I’d declared I thought he was cute and wanted to kiss him. If those girls knew me at all, they would know Travis is not my type. Eww! I was also with Nathan at the time, so why they thought I would stray is beyond me because I never have and never will be that type of girl.
Just thinking about Tasha and Allison irks me. I don’t know why I put up with them. It was Abbey that became friends with them and wanted to bring them into our circle. At the time, it was just me, Abbey and the boys. Things were so much simpler back then.
Anger still bubbles near the surface and thinking about Tasha and Allison isn’t helping. I need to get it under control before the guys get here. I consider another run or boxing bag session, but when my eyes land on the baseball bat by the front door, I stop thinking and just act.
With the bat firmly in my grip, I climb the stairs two at a time and storm to Mike’s bedroom. Lifting the bat, I start swinging at his door, the only door that still remains secured on its hinges upstairs. It’s not locked. I could have just opened it, but that would be too easy, and this fucker doesn’t deserve to have a door since he revelled in mine being taken away.
I slam all of my anger into each swing, growling screams bellowing from deep within me. My vision turns red as I splinter the door apart until most of it is gone, laying in jagged pieces on the carpet below. I don’t stop there, stepping into Mike’s room, I swing the bat at every piece of furniture or belonging he left behind.
When I’d first returned from Melbourne, I’d crept into this room looking for my laptop and phone but only found my laptop. It was then that I discovered he took his drug stash with him when he fled, which disappointed me because I would have loved to watch it flush down the toilet.
I’m so angry. Straight up, mother fucking angry. There’s really no other way to describe it. After leaving Ayden’s dad’s apartment, I walked around the city for about an hour crying, feeling sad and sorry for myself, all while fearing that my dad or brother would jump out from every corner I approached. Just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, the tears dried up and what was left was anger.
I’m angry at my mum for never loving me enough to put me first and for looking the other way when I know she must have known Mike was harassing me. I’m also angry at her for being too weak to see what her husband, my dad, was doing to her.
Speaking of, I’m angry at that arsehole of a so-called dad for leaving me to live another life in the city and for getting mad at me for calling him out on it when I interrupted him and his mistress. I’m angry at him for laying his hand on me with so much force that he left bruises. And I’m fucking furious that he so easily told my Principal lies and then drugged me to remove me from school so I couldn’t fight for myself and make a scene. Let’s not forget how he knew exactly what he was doing when he left me in the hands of his sick, twisted son and knowingly walked away without an ounce of regret.
That moment when he left me with Mike, that’s something I’ll never be able to forget for as long as I live. Mother fucking Mike! My dad’s love child. He’s always been odd and strange, and my dad left him in charge to teach me a lesson. The word angry doesn’t even begin to cut it when I think of the crude, vulgar things my half-brother did to me. Murderous is a good fucking word for it!
Nope, not even that feels right!
This anger, this rage that bubbles in my heart like molten lava, even extends to Abbey’s parents and their fucked up religious beliefs. The fact that even though the police had announced to the world that they are looking for my dad, her parents still believed the crap he told them about me being mentally ill. I need Abbey, damn it! What the actual fuck is wrong with them?
Ahhhhhhh!
Principal Ryland doesn’t escape my anger either! That chicken shit arsehole is just as guilty by letting my dad carry me out without even questioning things. If he had of been doing his job, then I would have never been put in the situation that led to Ayden having to rescue me and whisk me away to Melbourne to hide at his dad’s place.
Ayden… I try not to think about him, but I can’t help it. Out of all the fucked up shit that has happened to me, the fact that I put him in a situation which he’d been working so hard to free himself from, rips my heart in two. Our beautiful happy love bubble burst the moment that thug, Muz, forced us into his car, which led to Ayden snorting drugs and a gun being pointed at my head. That has to take the mother fucking cake!
That gun! I want that gun so I can shove it in Muz’s open mouth and pull the trigger for no other reason than the fact that he hurt my Ayden.
Wait! No!
Not my Ayden. He made that clear when he kicked me out.
Like I said, I am angry as fuck, and I can’t seem to simmer down my rage.
When my arms become heavy from lashing out my fury on anything and everything in my path, I let the pain in my heart take over and crumble to the floor, crying. What I really want to do is set this house on fire and watch it burn to the ground, ideally with Mike still inside. I think of his death daily now, of ways I can inflict pain on him. A quick death won’t be satisfying enough. I think I need to torture him first. Strip away his pride and humiliate him until he’s begging me to stop. Then, maybe I could happily finish the job and rid him from this earth.
Images flash through my head. Some are of Mike’s face and the way he looked almost euphoric as he laid his disgusting, hateful hands on me. Some are images of my hand reaching up and slicing his throat open with a blade. Yes, I like those images. They are my favourite.
“Lexi?”
I jump up instinctively at the sound of my name, the bat in my hand, ready to swing. The room has darkened considerably, and I can only see a man’s silhouette standing in the doorway. The only sound I can hear is the rushing of my blood and the pounding of my heart, my body ready for a fight.
Light suddenly fills the room, and I notice more than one body is standing before me. Instinctively, I take a step back, bat still in the air at the ready.
“Stay back!”
“Lexi. It’s just us.”
“Stay back!” I scream, wishing my eyes would function properly so I can see who’s in front of me.
“Guys, back out of the room. Give her some space.”
I know that voice. I know I know it, so why can’t I make the connection?
The bodies slowly step backwards out of the room, all except one.
“Lexi,” the voice is low and cautious, “it’s okay. It’s just us idiots. You remember us, right? You remember me? We have a Fortnite battle to play.”
My eyes glass over with hot angry tears, while my chest heaves, attempting to gain control of my breathing. I swipe at my eyes with one hand, briefly letting go of my death grip on the bat.
“Lex, its Jar. You know me.”
I blink my eyes, and the red rage fuelled by my anger starts to fade, and in its place is Jared, the boy I grew up with.
My bottom lip quivers, and the fight leaves my body.
“Jared?” A shaky whisper leaves my lips.
“Yeah, Lex, it’s me.” Jared’s face clears in my vision, and I can see his familiar kind blue eyes.
I let the bat fall from my hand and go to step towards my old friend.
“Wait!” Jared holds his hand up. “Don’t move, Lex. I’ll come to you.”
Confused, I follow his eyes to the floor at my feet and the shards of glass and splinters of wood covering every inch of carpet. My bare feet are bleeding, and scratches cover my legs and arms, some freshly bleeding while others are crusted over.
What the fuck have I done?
The crunching of broken glass under foot gains
my attention, and I watch Jared take the few steps across the room to where I stand.
“Lex, I’m gonna pick you up and carry you out of here, okay?”
I look up to Jared’s towering height. He’s the tallest of the boys, and just as manly as Ayden, even though there’s a year between them in age. Jared gets a lot of attention from the girls at school, and if he weren’t my close friend, I would probably deem him boyfriend material.
I nod up at him, letting more tears fall from my eyes. I’m so confused. I feel like a fucking freak! I don’t know how I let myself get so out of control. Jesus, how long was I like that? I must have been in Mike’s room for hours since the boys are here now, yet it feels like it was only minutes.
Perhaps I belong in the same hospital as my mum.
Jared wipes the tears from my wet cheeks and then reaches down to lift me in his arms. I curl into him as I’m cradled to his chest, and then he carries me out, stepping over the debris that used to make up Mike’s bedroom.
CHAPTER THREE
Gentle hands make quick work of cleaning up my scrapes, Jared’s face deep in concentration as he glides a warm washcloth over my skin. He is kneeled before me on the beige tiles of my mum’s bathroom floor. I barely notice the chill of the bench-top that Jared placed me on after carrying me downstairs from the destruction I inflicted on Mike’s room because my mind is too consumed with shame.
“That should do it.” Jared declares before tossing the washer in the sink, his blue eyes filled with concerned.
“Thanks,” I whisper, feeling embarrassed at being caught in the rage that saw me trash Mike’s bedroom.
With sympathy etched across his face, Jared gives me a small smile, “It’s okay, Six. Don’t worry about what happened.”
Six is my secret code name from when we were kids. We had turned our names backwards and used the first three letters, thinking we were so cool back then. Alexis turned into Six, Abbey turned into Yeb, Jared turned into Der, and Marcus turned into Suc. We used to love teasing Marcus about his secret code name. Mine is still the best. Well, I think so, anyway.
“I don’t know what happened,” I whisper, feeling self-disgust darken my mood.
Jared sighs. “You’ve been through a lot, Lex. Best not to overthink it. Besides,” reaching out, Jared takes my hand, “That motherfucker has it coming to him. Trashing his room is the least of his problems.”
I grin at the ferocity of Jared’s voice. He’s always been protective of me, even when we were kids.
“Lex,” he hesitates before sighing again, “why didn’t you tell me? Or Abbey? We could have done something. Helped in some way.”
My cheeks heat in humiliation, and I drop my eyes from his intense gaze.
“I don’t really know how to answer that.” I shrug. “I guess I felt so ashamed. I couldn’t comprehend saying the words out loud. I didn’t know how to.”
I don’t feel like my words make any sense, but Jared nods anyway and stands from the floor to tower over me. Like the other guys, Jared isn’t wearing his school uniform, so they must have gone home to get changed before they came over.
“We can’t change the past, Lexi. But we can sure as shit make sure you’re looked after from now on.”
“I don’t need looking after, Jar.” I force strength into my voice this time. I’m not weak, and I need him to know.
“Maybe. But it doesn’t mean we don’t want to look after you.”
He has me there.
Reaching up, Jared runs the backs of his fingers over my bruised face. It feels intimate. Too intimate. Without even thinking, I jerk back, ultimately showing Jared that I’m not comfortable with him touching me like that. His gentle touch reminds me of Ayden, but he’s not Ayden. He’s my childhood friend. I struggle to hold back my tears but somehow manage and silently high five myself for winning that internal battle.
Jared probably thinks I’m upset about what Mike did to me, and while that is part of it, a hell of a lot of my emotional turmoil is all for the blue-eyed, dark-haired, dimpled cheeked guy I left behind in Melbourne. The guy who took a chunk of my heart.
Not acting offended by my reaction, Jared offers me a lopsided grin which reminds me very much of the blonde-haired, blue-eyed, bratty boy I grew up with.
“Come on. The boys have pizza. We better get out there before they eat it all on us.”
Tugging on my hand, Jared eases me down from the bench and leads the way out of my mum’s room. It’s easy to tell where the boys are as we head towards the front living room, where they argue loudly over something to do with football.
“If Bombers win, you have to strip off and run to the corner of the street and back.”
A small grin tugs at my mouth as we enter the living room. I love the stupid banter between these guys. Simon is a diehard Bombers fan and is adamant that they will beat Sydney in tonight’s game airing live on TV. He would never make such a bet if he didn’t believe his team would win.
“You sick bastard, you just want to get a look at my mammoth cock! We all know Bombers are gonna win tonight.” Shaun, or as the girls refer to him, Spanish Casanova, grabs his crotch, giving it a shake as he answers Simon.
“Fuck off man. I don’t want to see your crooked sausage.”
Everyone laughs at Simon’s response before they notice my presence.
“Here, Lexi. We saved you some pizza.” Garrett offers, jumping up from the couch to hand me a small pizza box. His eyes are just as intense as Jared’s as he passes me the box, so I break the eye contact, quickly muttering “thanks” before taking a seat on the other couch along the back wall.
I ignore their silent stares and nibble at the pizza before Marcus re-directs their attention to their footy debate. Thank you, Marcus!
I take my sweet time nibbling on the same slice of pizza until I’m sure they won’t notice that I’ve hardly eaten any of it and then slip it back into the box. My appetite is still lacking, and eating right now just isn’t something I can fathom.
I’m quiet. Too quiet. The boys notice but say nothing and instead keep the conversation light. I feel embarrassed that they witnessed me losing my shit. I loathe myself for it. I’m drowning in a deep cold abyss that chills my heart, and it’s almost impossible to hide the effects now.
I feel myself spiralling from my own thoughts, but this time a strange numbness takes over me, and I no longer hear the conversations around me. Dark thoughts consume my mind, and even though I can still see the guys talking and throwing the occasional arm corkie, I can’t hear much else but white noise. I see the moment when Marcus and Jared notice. They share a look before Jared moves across my living room and sits next to me on the couch, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me into his side. I don’t protest because honestly, the contact is comforting. My heart wishes it was Ayden, but my brain knows that isn’t going to happen. Ayden made it clear that he was done with me.
At some point, I fall asleep. It isn’t a heavy sleep because I swear, I can hear the boys bicker right through the evening, but I rest just below the surface of knowing what they are saying. It’s oddly comforting to be surrounded by the noise after being alone in this quiet house for most of the week.
Sometime later, I’m pulled awake to the sounds of… well, sex. Moaning and panting shocks me into staying silent, and I pop one eye open to peek at whatever the hell is going on. I’m no longer in Jared’s arms but laying on the couch I’d been sitting on earlier. I dart my open eye quickly around the room to take stock of what’s happening. Then, I have to fight to hold back my laugh.
While I’ve been curled up on the couch at the back of the room, the five boys have been huddled on the floor in front of my wide-screen TV. Watching porn!
I sit up slowly, but they are so engrossed in what they are watching that they don’t hear me. A lady, as naked as the day she was born, is gyrating against a man’s hand while another chick takes him deep into her mouth. Fucking hell. If this isn’t awkward, then I don’t kno
w what is. Watching porn with a group of guys is definitely not on my list of things I ever wanted to do.
“See Bossi, that’s what you have to do when you put your hand down a girl’s pants.” Simon chuckles, always the clown of the group stirring up shit.
Shaun turns and punches Simon in the arm. “Shut the fuck up idiot, I’ve been down a girl’s pants plenty of times. I just have no interest in going down Tasha’s filthy pants.”
My ears prick up at hearing Tasha’s name.
“Yeah, wise choice man. She’s one piece of pussy that you want to stay away from.” Marcus states, keeping his eyes glued to the TV screen.
I don’t flinch at their choice of words or the way they speak. Growing up surrounded by guy’s means you have no choice but to get used to how they act.
“You say that after you’ve already gone for a test drive.” Garrett chuckles, and Marcus shrugs.
“It was a moment of weakness. I couldn’t have the one I wanted, so I just imagined it was her and used Tasha for it.”
Jesus! I didn’t know Marcus could be so cold towards a girl. Or that he hooked up with Tasha. When the hell did that happen?
The boys go quiet and nod in understanding at Marcus before each one slowly turns to look back at me.
The deer in headlights look they all sport would be funny if it weren’t for the fact that they just made something deadly obvious. Marcus had been wishing it was me when he was with Tasha.
Jesus! Fuck!
One thing I’m extremely good at is deflection, so I put that baby in motion.
“You arseholes better not be sporting wood while you watch that filth in my house.”
One by one, grins take over their faces, and Simon leaps up, giving his ash-blonde hair his signature Bieber flick.
“There she is, our sassy little Lexi throwing her weight around.” Simon stalks towards me, and my eyes widen at what I see before I squeal.
“Eww! Stop!” I leap up on the couch cushions, trying to keep Simon from reaching me, and put my hands out to stop him.
Deep (Heavy Hearts Book 2) Page 3