Devilishly Damaged

by Abigail Cole

  “Okay, Master Hughes, it’s straight again now. No strenuous exercise for at least 2 weeks and please be careful with who you anger in the future.” I’d spun her a line about getting into a fight at a party. Hopping down from the medical bed, I pull my leather jacket on and catch a glimpse of the purple bruising beginning to line my nose and seep under my eyes in the mirror on the opposite wall. Turning to the silver haired nurse, whose wrinkling leather hands are deceivingly strong, I thank her and accept the painkillers she hands me.

  Driving back to the mansion in Huxley’s Nissan, I use the time alone to ponder what the fuck I’m doing with my life. How have I ended up here in a few short weeks? My final is due this Friday and nowhere near finished, my gang is splintering and I’m sinking further into the fractured child I’ve tried so hard to leave behind. So the options are to accept Avery will be in my life as long as I stay or leave. And since my conscience won’t let the intruders I’ve only just found out about cause her any harm, I’m stuck here.

  Pulling into the underground garage, I park next to the white Bentley my father keeps here with a driver on speed dial to escort Avery wherever she’d like to go. Assessing my nose in the rear-view mirror, I leave the car on a heavy exhale and make my way into the mansion. Striding into the kitchen, I find Axel making omelettes with an eager Garrett sitting at the island with his fork in hand. My watch shows it is only 8:30am so I eye the topless chef suspiciously.

  “Why are you awake so early?” My voice comes out all nasally, so I decide to keep talking to a minimum. Sitting beside Gare, Axel leans over to pass me his half-drunk coffee since we take ours the same way – milk and two sugars.

  “Couldn’t sleep, and this one’s stomach growling in my bed didn’t help either.” He points his spatula at Garrett, who flashes his best hazel puppy dog eyes at him. I wasn’t aware those two were having sleepovers now, but it’s none of my business anyway.

  “Ooh, what smells so good?” Avery walks in looking as fresh as a daisy, completely unaffected by her high dive last night. Her blue eyes fall on me and she overacts a gasp, raising her hand to her mouth. “Oh, how insensitive! I didn’t see you there Wyatt. Do you need me to describe the smell to you?”

  Huxley bursts out laughing as he walks in behind her, guiding her over to the dining table with a light hand on her shoulder. Her hair is slightly damp on a fitted white t-shit as she swans further into the kitchen in grey sweatpants. Tattoos lining her inner biceps make me realise I’ve never seen her arms bare before. Despite being intrigued, I force myself to stare into the mug I’m nursing instead. Dax also appears to help Axel serve up six plates of omelettes as we all take our seats at the table.

  “Anyone else need a coffee?” Axel asks, hovering behind his chair.

  “Tea for me but I’ll make it,” Avery hops up and they both return to the counter. I try to listen to the conversation at the table, but the whispers and giggles behind me keep drawing my attention over my shoulder. Axel fiddles with a strand of her hair as she leans into his muscled frame, all the while making her tea. Growling, I turn my focus back to trying to eat my breakfast, having to chew slowly to ease the strain my already tender nose. By the time the pair have returned, I’ve finished and leave my empty plate on the table, needing to put space between me and her.

  I spend most of the day in the study, desperate to get my final done and dusted for tomorrow so there’s at least one part of my life I’m not failing in. Despite the exam portion only focusing on the theory, this type of platform would be pivotal to the success of our future ball games if I manage to get it fully functioning. The part I’m stuck on is enabling the entire team to access the information any of our phones have recorded so we can all use it solo or in games with friends too.

  Running a hand down my face, I jerk and hiss at the pain I cause myself in forgetting about the broken bone. My brain is fried, so I decide to take a break and head to find the others. Finding them playing the PlayStation in the living room, I stride around and place myself right in the centre, between Dax and Hux. As much as I want to be alone, I’m also torn with wanting to be with my boys.

  “Where’s Avery?” I have to ask, ignoring their side glances. I’m not in the frame of mind to want to torment her right now. I don’t feel angry, I feel empty.

  “She has her therapy session this afternoon,” Garrett answers. Axel’s character on the screen is killed off by Dax’s, so he places the controller in my lap to take over and leaves the sofa. Huxley also rises, and I notice all of them are in their jerseys and sports shorts so either they’ve been playing ball outside or will be. The video game sets up another round of the boxing match, counting down 3, 2, 1 before we start to tap the controller keys frantically to get in the first swing.

  The elevator door pings further within the mansion, which I ignore until a sound similar to a clap of thunder mixed with fireworks ricocheting across the ceiling sends me diving onto the floor. Glass sprays across us as the chandelier smashes to the ground, splintering my arms with tiny shards as I frantically try to protect my head. My eardrums produce a high-pitched ringing as I scramble across the floor, glass cutting into my palms and feet as I dive into the kitchen. Pushing myself upright, I grab for the widest and sharpest knife from the utensil drawer before returning to just inside the archway.

  Peeking around the corner, Dax is still lying flat on the floor, using the sofa to hide him while Garrett has leapt to hide behind the piano. The ceiling from the hallway into the living room is punctured with bullet holes and the empty socket that held the chandelier is swinging back and forth. Figures dressed all in black walk into the living room, obviously checking the rest of the downstairs first and my heart plummets. Axel’s head peeps around the far window, remaining hidden from the intruder’s view, and I manage to catch his eyesight.

  “Find Avery,” I mouth, which he nods at and disappears. The moment stretches as I stand, unsure of what to do. I don’t stand a chance at attacking, they have assault rifles for fucks sake. Dax catches my attention, his blue eyes filled with worry and his body shaking as he holds his hands over his ears.

  “Hand over the Hughes child and no one has to get hurt,” a deep voice booms through the room. It must be why they have come back so soon, they realized I’m staying here and want to take me hostage for an extortionate ransom amount. Garrett’s wide eyes find mine as he vigorously shakes his head at me from beneath the piano, but what choice do I have? All of my closest family are in this house, and Avery. After a few deep breaths, I step out into the living room with the knife clutched tightly at my side.

  “I’m here, just leave everyone else alone.” My voice comes out more nasally than I’d have liked right now. Staring into brown eyes peering out from under a ski mask, a flash of confusion passes through them as the lead thug begins to laugh. The two men flanking him start to laugh too, pointing at me and nudging shoulders. Aware of the rifle pointing right at me, I stand perfectly still although my jaw clenches at their odd behaviour.

  “Not you, obviously.” He finally manages to compose himself enough to say. Keeping my features schooled, I fight against the panic gripping me at the thought that he meant Avery. “Find her,” he says to the guy on his left. Striding towards me with the gun pointed on my chest, he gestures to the knife with his chin and I drop it to the floor with a clang. Flicking his gun in the direction of the sofa, I walk over to throw my weight back onto it, feeling as useless as alcohol-free bourbon right about now. Dax also resigns to being found and pushes himself up next to me, shaking his afro out of the shards stuck in it. The other masked man drags Gare up by the back of his vest and tosses him our way.

  “Is this all of them?” The larger of the two, which I’ve dubbed the leader, asks as they both circle the coffee table, glass crunching under their boots as they keep the rifles trained on the three of us.

  “Yeah these are the only ones I saw,” his blue-eyed friend answers, confessing he was the one I was chasing the night before last. Bo
th men are huge, bound in matching black cargos and tight, long-sleeved shirts showcasing their packed muscles. Their military style boots tie in with the tactical vests that hold multiple pockets bulging with more ammunition.

  The leader lifts one foot onto the table and rests the firearm on his thigh as he assesses me. “You don’t know, do you?” He questions, catching me off guard. Gare and Dax look over to me but I can’t answer the questions in their eyes, since I’m as much in the dark here as they are.

  “Know what?” But his only answer is a chuckle. My eyebrows crease as I stare at him, trying to place his brown eyes from somewhere but coming up empty.

  “Found this one trying to sneak in through the window,” a gruff voice sounds as Axel is pushed along by a gun in his back. His amber eyes find mine, a look of failure painted within. I try to give him a small smile to tell him its okay, but I don’t know if I manage it. Shoving him down onto the sofa with us, the third ski-mask wearing intruder darts off again in search for Avery. My gut flips and twists with worry, not for any reason other than I genuinely hope she is safe which surprises me. Growing agitated at being kept in the dark, I try to prod the leader without a clear direction in mind. I just hope if I keep him talking, he might reveal whatever it is he clearly knows.

  “What do you want out of all this? I can get you money if that’s it.”

  “Money means nothing to my boss,” he shakes his head and returns to his full height. His associate eyes him with a type of warning, but he continues anyway. “Your dear old dad stole something from him years ago, and the time has come that he was repaid the favour.”

  Avery

  I haven’t heard a noise from anywhere in the house for the longest time, but I still remain hidden in the airing cupboard. Perched uncomfortably on a pile of folded towels, I cradle my knees up to my chest and bury my face into them. The boiler behind me is hot to the touch and the air in here is stifling, almost too thick to breathe as I rack my brain to understand what happened.

  I had been sitting in the armchair in Nixon’s office, tapping my foot impatiently waiting for Elena to arrive. She’s usually prompt for every one of our therapy sessions so as the clock above the door clicked loudly to 3:10pm, I’d given up waiting. Typing out a text to Meg asking if her mum was feeling ill as I walked the corridors, I heard the ping of the elevator to announce her arrival. But as I’d turned the corner, a shiny black object had led the way out of the elevator before deafening cracks of gunfire had assaulted the air.

  Dashing back through the hallway, I slipped into the gym as quietly as my trembling body would allow and escaped up the hidden stairs into Nixon’s room. From there, I had run into the en-suite and thrown myself into this cupboard before I even noticed my phone was still clutched in my hand. Cursing myself for not locking any doors behind me, I tapped out 911 with shaky thumbs and reeled off our address in a hushed voice. The operator had said the police would be here as soon as possible so I’ve been sat waiting in this sauna-equivalent of a closet for what seems like hours, fretting if the boys are safe.

  The sound of a handle twisting somewhere outside freezes the blood in my veins and my breathing automatically halts. The more I try to stay still, the bigger my trembles become until the sounds of my teeth chattering prevents me from hearing any further sounds from the bathroom. The door abruptly whips open, causing me to cover my mouth to conceal the scream that leaves me until my eyes settle on a dishevelled-looking Huxley. Throwing myself into his arms, he grips me tightly and buries his face into my neck.

  “What happened to you?” I ask as he puts me down. There’s a dirt smear across his cheek and his jersey is muddy and torn on the side.

  “I army crawled through the bushes and fell through the window. Come on, we need to move. Now.” He whispers, linking his fingers with mine.

  “Wait, aren’t the police here yet? I called for them ages ago.” Shaking his head of messy blonde waves at me, I scramble for a plan. “We can jump onto the terrace over the front door from Garrett’s room.” Nodding, we ease out of the bathroom while listening intently for foreign sounds. The thumping of boots on the wooden flooring in the corridor makes Huxley jerk behind the door, dragging me with him.

  We remain rooted to the spot until hearing the door adjacent to this one being opened. Guessing this room would be next, I creep forwards to slowly turn the door handle. Using the camera on my phone, I slip it out so we can get a view of the opposite door wide open on the screen, a shadowed figure searching inside with a huge pointed weapon. As soon as he moves into the bathroom, we slip out and run on tiptoes down the hallway.

  “Stop!” a voice yells as we come level with Garrett’s door. Huxley slams his palm onto the handle and I shove it open with my body weight as bullets fly into the doorframe by our heads. Running over to the window, my fingers won’t cooperate as I try to release the latch. The pounding of boots echoes my heart as I finally manage to pop it and push the glass open wide. Glancing back, Huxley slams the door shut and presses his body weight against it.

  “Go!” he shouts but I can’t leave him. Tears fill my eyes and I scream for him to run with me, stretching my hand out with strained fingers. I clamber over the windowsill; thankful I chose to wear sweatpants today and brace myself.

  “Come on Huxley, you’ll make it!” I shout over my shoulder. Nodding, he readies himself to run as I drop myself over the edge and onto the slanted terrace below. My ankles are unable to support the landing so I fall, rolling until the surface vanishes. Catching the drainpipe before I plunged to the concrete below, I see Huxley’s blond hair appear in the window before he’s dragged backwards. Hearing grunts and shouts from above, I swing my other hand onto the pipe and shimmy my way across. Becoming level with a large bush beneath, I release my fingers and fall into it. Branches scratch my arms and my hair becomes knotted, but at least I’m alive.

  A gunshot sounds from Garrett’s room and I freeze. The sounds of struggling has stopped, and the air has gone deathly quiet, as if the world is also holding its breath. The wail of several police sirens cuts through me, as I scramble from the bush and run down the driveaway. The black and white striped car skids to a halt in front of me, and I run around to throw myself into the back seat, slamming the door behind me. The officers from the front and multiple police vehicles that followed all run towards the house with their guns at the ready and the reality of what I heard hits me like a freight train.

  Hiding my face in my hands, I cry so loudly that my body shakes with each sob. Huxley came for me, saved me. I need him to be okay, I pray the gunshot I heard is either imbedded deep in the intruder or the wall. If anything happens to him, I’ll never be able to survive the guilt that the man I slapped for being selfish is the one who protected me when I needed him the most. The door to my left opening makes me flinch, but the sight of Wyatt sliding in beside me really shocks me.

  “Come here,” he says, his voice so soft that my tears double. Holding his arms out, I hesitate briefly wondering if this is a trap but fall into his body anyway. Relaxing back against the leather seat, Wyatt strokes my hair as I cry into his chest. I clutch his t-shirt in my fist, using his rich intense scent to soothe me. Another siren sounds and I glance up to see an ambulance passing, pulling right up to the front door. Scrambling out of the seat, I run to join the group of officers hovering around on the gravelled driveaway.

  “Avery!” Axel runs out of the house and lifts me into his arms. Over his shoulder, I see Garrett walk out, his usual cheekiness a distant memory by the taut expression on his face. He doesn’t meet my eye, passing by to join Wyatt on the edge of the crowd. Placing me down, I keep my arms wrapped tightly around his middle as Axel pulls me out of the way. A stretcher is rolled out of the house, Huxley’s blonde hair hanging over the edge. Dax is walking by the side of the stretcher, holding Huxley’s hand tightly with his white t-shirt covered in blood. No.

  “Huxley!” I scream, trying to run forward but Axel keeps me held tightly under his arm. I
struggle and fight, needing to see. Huxley’s eyes are closed, his mouth slightly parted above a sheet that’s tightly bound to his body by two orange straps. Two paramedics lift the stretcher into the back of the ambulance, as one of them and Dax jump in after. The other slams the back doors closed and jogs around to the driver’s seat, turning the sirens on before speeding out of the driveaway.

  “Let me go Axel,” I beg and scream but his grip is unyielding. “This is all my fault. You’d all have been better off never coming here.” Hands grip my cheeks, forcing me to stop writhing and face the emerald eyes staring at me.

  “If we weren’t here, that would have been you. We have to remain calm until we know the facts.” I mimic Wyatt’s nodding. “We’ll take the Nissan and meet them at the hospital. He’s going to be okay.” My lip bottom quivers as Wyatt jogs around to fetch the car. Noticing Garrett’s distant stare, I reach out to grip his hand and pull him towards us. Slipping his hands into my hair, Garrett holds me into his chest while Axel’s arms wind around my waist from behind. Garrett places his head onto Axel’s shoulder above me and I’m trapped in an Avery sandwich that I never want to leave.

  ∞∞∞

  “He’s out of surgery.” The doctor announces as he steps into the waiting room. We all rush forward from our various points around the otherwise empty room. “The bullet has shattered his collarbone. It was 2 inches away from his heart and the artery in his neck, he’s extremely lucky.” Relief floods me but I still can’t smile, this should never have happened. I’ve heard the other’s give their statements to the police since we’ve been sitting here. The intruders want me to pay some old debt, and I’d have walked into their open arms rather than this. They are only going to try again since they magically seemed to all manage to get away. The cops have searched every inch of the grounds and there’s no sign of them, not even on the surveillance footage at the main gate.