by Abigail Cole
“Hasn’t Susie served dinner yet?” I aim my question to anyone else but its Wyatt that turns to answer me.
“I’ve told the household staff to stay home, fully paid until further notice. We don’t know how those men got onto the property last night, they could have had inside help.” My mouth gapes open and my stomach suddenly growls in protest. I wasn’t hungry before I realised there was no food prepared.
“This is getting ridiculous!” I shout, the temper I’ve just spent hours soothing rising back with a vengeance.
“We can’t trust anyone.” He shrugs and turns his back on me. “So start cooking, we’re all starving.” A choked noise leaves my throat, noticing the other guys are avoiding my eye contact. Picking up two apples from the fruit bowl, I throw one at the back of Wyatt’s head with a direct bullseye and take a bite of the other as he whips around, fury bleeding into his green eyes. I fake an ‘oops’ and turn to leave.
“Fine,” his voice stops me. “We’ll order in tonight but starting tomorrow, you’re cooking each meal and will need to keep on top of cleaning.”
“I’m not your nanny, Sergeant Snob. There are five of us here, we will all pull our weight or you will starve.” I deliver him one of my most serious, nose-flared, jaw-clenched glares to drive the point home. In my peripheral vision, Garrett reaches over the table to pick up the apple while the others try to hide their grins. Wyatt grunts, pulling his phone from the pocket of sport’s shorts and gesturing for me to join them at the table with his chin.
I hover near the doorway, unsure if I should stay or run until Dax pulls his hoodie over his head and offers it to me. His piercing blue eyes hold me captive as I walk forward to collect it and I’m unable to hold back the small smile at his simple act of kindness. Pulling the burgundy material over my head, unable to resist smelling the sweetly spiced linger of his cologne, I sit down beside him and Huxley. A warm feeling starts to blossom in my chest but I squash it down. These are not my friends; they are Wyatt’s and as soon as his over-protective bullshit ends, they will go back to following his every order like helpless puppies under the thumb of a bulldog.
“Ooh, let’s get Indian.” Garrett breaks the silence as Wyatt scrolls through his phone and the rest of us twiddle our thumbs. This feels awkward.
“Great. I’ll have a chicken tikka and garlic naan,” I say, rising from the chair and leaving the boys to it. There’s a reason I stay hidden away here unless I’m with Meg; I don’t fit in. But that’s never bothered me until right now since I didn’t really know what I was missing out on. The few times I’ve caught a glimpse of their camaraderie has shown me that Wyatt has made his own family and they genuinely love him. It must be nice to have more than one person in the world to depend on.
Inhaling deeply, Dax’s scent fills me and stirs a different emotion within. It starts as a tingle that magnifies into a spike of pleasure mixed with adrenaline as a crazy thought passes through my mind. Glancing over my shoulder, I creep to the side of the living room where the guys won’t be able to see me from and quickly open the patio door. As soon as I manage to soundlessly close it behind me, I run full speed to Wyatt’s converted pool house.
Sliding his door open, I run up the stairs into his bedroom figuring that will be where he hid my precious black box. There’s not many places to hide an item, with only a futon and a bedside table inside the empty space. A pewter grey curtain catches my attention, which I pull back to find a small alcove containing Wyatt’s clothes. Jeans and sweatpants line the bottom rail with shirts, tees and jackets up top. The floor of the space is stacked with Air Jordans and Timberland boots in their original boxes, categorized by brand like an utter nutter.
Flipping open each box, I search frantically as my heart beats out of tune. The lengths I am willing to go to get myself off are reaching desperate times indeed. Coming up empty, I place each one back carefully and pull the curtain over so my presence here will go unnoticed. Turning, Wyatt’s silhouette in the doorway makes me scream involuntarily. Stepping into the moonlight filtering from the glass balcony door, his face isn’t the image of fury I was expecting. No, his mouth is tilted in a cunning smile and his eyes scream devious, which in a way seems so much worse.
“Looking for something?” He asks, keeping his voice low so it sends a shiver of apprehension down my spine.
“I just want what you took from me, give me the box Wyatt.” I try to sound threatening but the quiver to my voice betrays me.
“I never said I took it.” His smile grows wider until all of his teeth are on show. “You know, for someone who has led the life you have, you are very trusting. Maybe you should look at the other men staying in the house through the same microscope you’ve put me under.” I tuck away his cryptic words to reflect on later, moving to ram past him. Filling the doorframe, he doesn’t budge a millimetre as I throw my shoulder into his sternum.
“Get out of the way Wyatt!” I shout, hoping he didn’t follow me here by himself. His deep chuckle crushes that idea, dread seeping in and weighing on me like an internal anchor.
“There’s only one way out for you,” he says quietly, looking towards the balcony on his right. Following his eyeline, I gasp and my eyes widen. Starring up at him, ignoring his intoxicating musky scent that is all natural, I can see he is deadly serious.
“You win, Wyatt. You’re the almighty terrifying original Hughes child. Just let me go.” I add an eye roll to cover the pain that statement caused me.
“That’s the second time you’ve said that to me now, but what is it I am supposed to be winning? You can’t give me my mom back. I had to leave my own home to find happiness again, so as long as I’m around, you don’t ever get the easy option again.” He points towards to glass door with his chin. “Jump, and try your best to reach the pool or I’ll be dumping your ashes in a random river too.”
Tears fill my eyes at his admission he tossed mum’s ashes without a second thought. I don’t care about any of the other shit he spews, he’ll never get over his hatred for me so I might as well get used to it. Grabbing my arms, he turns and walks me over to the door, reaching past to slide it open. Shoving me out onto the levitating stone platform, I fall into the bannister which hits my stomach. The pool is at least 15 feet away, leaving a stretch of stone slabs below. Looking towards the house, I see his four friends standing on the opposite patio, not a single one making a move to save me. I knew it. Wyatt has blocked the exit with his body and an arrogant smirk.
“I hate you,” I turn back to show him every ounce of the emotion with my eyes, which only makes his smile widen. I’ve never entered into Wyatt’s loathing war before, but I can’t hold back anymore. He didn’t have to see how his mum cried when she got his voicemail or her face shatter when he didn’t turn up on Christmas Day as promised. I don’t care what he does to me, but he can’t be allowed to taint her memory.
Catching him off guard, I quickly throw my fist into his face like the way I practised over and over with the punching bag earlier. A crack beneath my knuckles sounds as blood spurts out onto his white t-shirt. As he bends to grip his busted nose, I hop up onto the railing and jump. My only thought being if I happen to go splat on the pavement, it would be an epic way to leave this world with the upper hand and hopefully mum is waiting for me on the other side.
Wind whips around my body, the baggy hoodie flapping around my frame. Colliding with the pool’s surface, a sharp sting assaults my whole body. Arms grip and drag me from the water, although the pain assaulting me keeps me from opening my eyes to see who it is. Spluttering, I shove the hands away from me until Meg’s voice reaches my ears. Peeking through half closed eyelids, I look beyond her to see there is no one else present and I despise them all the more.
Axel
Sitting upright in my bed, I run a hand over my face and give up on trying to sleep. Every time I shut my eyes, the image of her falling hits me again and again. She didn’t scream or flail, she just leapt and accepted whatever fate awaited her. I
didn’t think she’d do it. Wyatt had only wanted her to cry and beg. It was a shitty power move he’d made us promise not to interfere with at the dining table, saying he needed it. He doesn’t handle being out of control well, which is something I understand. But I don’t understand why he can’t release his anger, why he doesn’t want to let himself connect with her.
My bedroom door opens, and I swivel to see Garrett walking across the room in just his boxers, carrying a bowl in one hand and two beers in the other. Ignoring the way his abs shift in the faint light with each step, I notice dark circles lining his normally joyful eyes. Slipping under the cover, Gare places down his treats and picks up the remote control on the nightstand, flicking on the TV. Snuggling into his side, he pushes his arm under my head and rubs my back in comfort.
“Can’t sleep?” I ask. Usually I am closest with Dax since he seems to notice my mood shifts better than the others so I try to keep him close by. The others probably already see me as weak, and they don’t know the half of it. But lately Garrett has been sticking around me more often without the need of a female’s company.
“That was messed up man.” He finally answers, opening a can with one hand and taking a long drink. We had all raced into the pool to save her, but Huxley had got there first. Lifting her body from the water, we had pulled her onto the stone slabs until Meg appeared from nowhere and pushed us out of the way, so we left her to it and headed to sort Wyatt out. I’d seen Avery’s look when she saw us watching, she wouldn’t have wanted us to stick around.
“I thought his nose was never going to stop bleeding,” I chuckle, remembering how pleasantly surprised I had been to see she’d managed to land the perfect blow. Even with the pack of frozen peas he was clinging to like a lifeline, I won’t be surprised to see two black eyes by morning. Gare channel surfs to some action movie I’m not overly interested in, so I focus on the rise and fall of his bare chest instead. Sleep begins to find me in the crook of Gare’s arm and I feel my eyelids grow heavy, accepting the darkness awaiting me on the other side.
“Axel honey, come on in. Don’t be shy.” Stepping into the darkened ballroom, I’m shocked to find it empty. My mother is standing on the podium in a glittery black dress, diamond pendants hanging from her earlobes. Looking around suspiciously, I edge further into the room. “Ahh, there you are.”
Pulling at the navy tie that is almost choking me, I shuffle forward in my polished brown shoes. Running a hand over my head, I feel the soft locks I’ve grown to fear. Mother’s smile widens, the cherry red lipstick popping against her pearly white teeth. Beckoning me forward, she outstretches her hand, pulling me up onto the stage and hugging me tightly.
“I have a surprise for you,” she whispers into my ear. Turning me by my shoulders, I face the vast space, my heat jolting at the sight of a vertical tank that wasn’t there before. A ten feet tall cell made of glass and steel, filled to the brim with shimmering water. My fourteen-year-old self is looking back at me in the reflection of the glass, an unsure look in my amber eyes. A splash at the top causes some of the water to spill over onto the marble flooring, and a panicked Avery appears inside. I rush forward on instinct, but my mother’s hand grips my arm and yanks me backwards.
“You couldn’t save yourself. What makes you think you can save her?” my mother laughs into my ear, her body flush behind me and her claws seeping deeper into my flesh. Upon spotting me, Avery’s eyes widen and bubbles leave her mouth as she tries to scream. Banging on the glass with her fists, her golden hair sways around her as Dax’s red hoodie weighs her down to the bottom. She pulls and yanks at it, but it’s no use. And I can’t do anything to help her.
A hand slides around my neck, tightening until I can’t breathe but I don’t take my eyes from Avery. She deserved a life free of misery and pain. To feel true joy without fear. As the last bubbles leave her lips, she begins to convulse and writhe against the burn of her empty lungs. A tear slides down my cheek as my own supply of oxygen runs out, but I refuse to fight against the hand holding me. I deserve this, but Avery doesn’t. I just hope she will forgive me for failing her. Again.
“Axel, wake up! You’re shaking.” I shoot upright at the sound of Garrett’s voice and drag down gulps of air. Rubbing my throat before running my hand over my head, I try to level my breathing. It had felt so real, so terrifying. The only good thing about my nightmares before now was that they were predictable. But if I don’t know what torture lurks on the other side, how will I ever sleep again?
“It’s okay, everything will be fine,” Garrett soothes me, his arms stroking my back and shoulders. Turning, I throw myself into him, our lips connecting as I desperately try to grab onto something real. Something worth living for. Returning my kiss, Garrett’s arms embrace me fully until I can taste the saltiness of my tears leak between our lips. Pulling back, I cry into his shoulder, unable to help myself from being weak once again. Maybe Wyatt does have the right idea after all, to bury his emotions under an angry façade, because this touchy-feely shit isn’t working for me.
Finally reigning myself back in, after soaking Gare’s shoulder and attracting Dax in with my sobbing, I stare into the sunshine that is shining beyond the window. Both guys are pawing over me, which any other time would be my idea of heaven, but right now I barely feel it. All I do feel is numb and completely useless. I need to see Avery, I need her to know I tried.
Leaving the bed, I stride into the bathroom in my pyjama pants and walk straight through the opposite adjoining door. Slipping out of Dax’s room, I walk on silent feet to Avery’s door. It’s slightly ajar, so I peer around the wood to see her at the vanity, brushing out her long hair. Not having time to knock politely before someone comes looking for me, I step into the room and shut the door behind me softly. Noticing me in the mirror, Avery turns her baby blues onto me and I hold my finger up to my lips.
Signalling to the bathroom, she eyes me suspiciously but walks in anyway. Stepping inside, I gently turn the inside key in hers and Huxley’s locks and keep my voice to a whisper. “Are you okay?” She makes a choked noise in her throat in response, so I change my question. “Are you physically hurt?”
“Why are we-“I quickly shush her normal volume with a panicked wave of my finger in front of my face. “Why are we whispering?” she says in a hushed voice.
“The others will be looking for me soon. I needed you to know that last night was-“it’s her turn to cut me off.
“It’s fine Axel, just go. I don’t expect any of you to care for me, so I relieve you of whatever guilt you’re feeling.” She wafts her hand in the air and heads to leave. Moving forward quickly on instinct, I grip her hips and plant her onto the counter harder than I intended to. Stepping between her legs, I press my cheek against hers so those all-seeing eyes of hers can’t look into my soul while it’s vulnerable.
“But that’s the problem Avery. I do care. I just witnessed you dying in my dream so you can hit or fight me all you like; I’m not leaving until you are safe from all dangers. Wyatt and burglars included.” My chest sinks at the release of my confession, and only now do I notice the satin nightie she is wearing and how her inner thighs are pressed against my hips. Tracing my thumb along the strap on her shoulder, I dare a glance at her expression. Glazed eyes assess me above a faint patter of freckles on her button nose and her golden hair tickles my bare chest.
“I’d rather the ugly truth than false promises Axel,” she breathes, seeming unsure if she can believe my words. Hell, I wouldn’t believe me either if I were her. Taking her hand from her lap, I link our fingers and bring our united fist up between us.
“I promise. I will keep you safe.” Leaning her forehead against mine, Avery parts her legs and hooks her arms around me so we are fully pressed against each other. We stay like that, happy to support one another without judgement for the longest time. But it would never be long enough for me. I need this type of comfort to survive, gentle touches and soft caresses remind me of how it feels to be loved. To
be alive. Without them, I’d more than likely turn out like the self-hating ass living in his pool house right now.
Pounding on the door to our left jolts us apart, Huxley’s voice booming through the wood. “Avery! What’s taking so fucking long in there? I’m bursting out here!” With one last look at her, I slide out of her side and head back to my room. Finding the pair I’d left on my bed still here, watching a Viking series the others are all obsessed with, I snuggle back into the middle of them. The weight of my dream has lifted, but an underline anxiety remains.
Upon coming here, I was under the impression Avery was the problem in her feud with Wyatt. But it’s become clear the opposite is true. The only way to keep my promise to protect her will be to help fix him, or run the risk of losing them both.
Wyatt
“Ahh!” I bellow, scaring the nurse half to death as she repositions my nose. I’d had to sneak out at the crack of dawn this morning to seek professional help, in fear that my nose would heal crooked and I’d have to see every day in the mirror that I was sucker punched by a girl. Not just any girl – the blonde bombshell I know I should hate even more now, instead of feeling semi-impressed. I backed her into a literal corner, wanting her to plead me for her life. Cry my name as she felt a glimpse of the pain to be outcast by a fake sibling. But she’d risen up and fought back, showing me I won’t be able to break her. She’s learnt to thrive under pressure, and I was stupid to ever think she was weak.