Page 20 of Forged By Shadows
“What’s this?” Garrett lifts the manilla envelope. I rush to snatch it out of his hand and shove it into a drawer.
“It’s none of your business. What are you doing here, Garrett? I’ve got a very busy day,” I lie. His eyelids lower as he tilts his head, calling me out on my bullshit. Regardless, I cross my arms and wait for an answer.
“I bought you gifts,” Garrett instantly brightens again. Pushing a coffee cup into my hand, he then produces a small tub from his pocket. I recognize the brand from my morning of research into the best tattoo healing creams. I sigh, dropping next to Axel on my bed. His thigh brushes mine and he doesn’t move it away. Sipping the coffee, I sigh. It’s perfectly sweet, how I like it.
“Dax told you then?” Garrett’s brow raises at this.
“No,” he beams. Like a kid who’s just discovered where the best candy store in town is, Garrett’s whole face lights up. I bet he’s going to hold this over Dax’s head when he gets back. In reality, the truth is much worse. “Wyatt installed a tracker on your phone the other night, while you were otherwise…incapacitated.” He means locked up and having a panic attack, but I don’t let that distract me.
“He did what?!” I jump up, my mouth gaping open. That bastard! I look to where my phone is sitting on the desk, Garrett standing in the way. I hand my cup to Axel, anticipating a fight.
“Never mind that for now.” Garrett waves away my anger. “Let’s see it then.”
“No!” I shout a little too harshly. Putting them both in my eyeline, I retreat into a corner. “Thank you for the thought. I’ll give it back to you once I’m all healed up.” Holding out my good hand, Garrett sighs. He holds out the tub, letting me make the final decision to retrieve it. As soon as it graces my hand, he grabs and spins me. My front hits the wall, his knee pushing against my ass and his hands lifting my t-shirt.
“I hope for your sake you’re wearing a bra,” he chuckles. I thrash and cry out, hurting myself by tugging at the healing wound on my back. Luckily, I am wearing a bra as Garrett hitches my t-shirt up to my shoulders and lets out a low whistle. My heart twists painfully. Can he see the scar underneath? Is it raised and obvious through the ink.
“How the hell did you know where it was?!” I gasp, trying to shove his knee away with my good hand. Unfortunately, it’s my left and I’m not half as confident fighting with that one.
“You backed yourself into a corner, not making any moves to conceal any other part of your body. Plus, there’s an ink line pressing against your t-shirt.”
“He’s surprisingly perceptive,” Axel adds. I’d half-forgotten he was still here. Garrett tells me to hold still as two cold fingers touch my nape. I freeze.
“G-Garrett please. I don’t-I hate having my back touched.” His fingers halt on my neck, an uncomfortable pause ensuing. Is he looking closer now? Can he see what I’ve been so desperate to hide from the world?
“You’re not going to be able to reach back here and you don’t want this beautiful tattoo to scab and flake, do you?” His breath skates over my skin. He’s close. Too close. But he is right.
“Fine, just…can Axel do it? Please?” The request catches all three of us off guard. Braving a glance towards my bed, those haunted hazel eyes are watching me closely now. Something Dax said stuck with me all night. Abuse comes in many forms. I almost passed out at the tattooist touching my scar, but if anyone has to do it again, I’d rather it was from someone who might understand. He nods once and Garrett finally releases me.
Pulling my t-shirt all the way off, because it’s not like they haven’t seen it all before, I return to my spot on the bed. This time, I face away, staring out of the window. All of the pleasant weather we’ve been having has finally caught up with us. Gray clouds hang low, the early drips of rain starting to beat against the glass. I love watching the rain from inside. I love the sound beating on the brick, pattering the ground. It’s a comforting reminder that I’m safe and warm, that I have a roof over my head. For the first ten years of my life, that wasn’t a given.
When Axel’s hands touch me, I flinch. He’s gentle, slowly drawing the cream in circles. Starting from my nape, he works his way down. I sense his hesitation; I feel what he’s feeling. The raised scar tissue beneath his fingertips, the secret I’ve concealed. No one has touched it, not my mom nor Meg. He works cautiously, all the way down to mid-back and when I finally think it’s over, his fingers spread out. Both hands stretch towards my ribs, encasing my sides. His fingers settle on the circular burn marks which await there and I stiffen. It would seem Garrett isn’t the only one who is surprisingly perceptive.
“I’ll have to come back this evening, and then twice a day going forward until it’s healed,” Axel murmurs. I almost whimper against his hold. I thought this would be enough to sate their curiosity. That they might be satisfied enough to leave me alone. Looking back over my shoulder, I stare into Axel’s eyes before I concede.
“Okay.” Across the room, Garrett watches on from his perch on Kay’s bed.
“Well, that was hot.” Axel remembers himself, withdrawing his hands. I don’t bother with the t-shirt now, settling on my stomach and gathering the pillows beneath my chest. Axel shifts, laying a fluffy blanket over my lower back and ass. He takes the time to tuck in my legs, almost as if he wishes he could cuddle up beneath the blanket with me. Garrett steps in next, lowering to place a tender kiss behind my ear.
“Enjoy your very busy day, Peach.” I suppress a shiver and wait for the door to click shut before retrieving my vibrator from the bedside drawer. The tension racking my body mingling with the longing twisting in my core. His softness, his touch. Emotions I’ve caged for so long start to unravel, the phantom touches skating across my back confusing me. I dip the vibrator between my thighs just as the rain starts to hit the windowpanes harder. The thunderous sound drowns out my moans as I chase that much-needed release. It comes fast and hard, crashing through me on a strangled cry.
In the aftermath of tremors, I reach for my coffee and flick open a dark romance novel on my ereader. Somehow, despite the years of trauma I’ve been faced with this morning, I manage to smile.
I suppose there are worse ways to spend a day.
Chapter Thirteen
If I’d foreseen the connection my brain automatically made between Axel caressing my back and the intense urge to make myself climax, I can’t say I’d have done anything different.
As promised, he visited each morning and evening, sometimes with Garrett and sometimes alone. I manage to keep a grip on myself while he’s there, sitting on my bed and touching my skin. Around the time he started to rotate his thumbs on my shoulder blades and ease the kinks from my neck, my nipples began to harden. With each passing session, I grew wetter. To the point where I need to carry my vibrator in my backpack, not able to depend on Kay being absent from the dorm long enough. Pleasuring myself in the dance dressing room was my new low, but there was also something incredibly arousing about it too.
That’s why I’m pointedly avoiding my dorm. I can’t keep carrying on being horny all of the time. Neither can I allow myself to feel this comfortable with Axel touching me. He’s unknowingly carving a path into my psyche. Regardless of how gentle he’s been, he is still one of them. A Shadowed Soul. I can’t trust him.
Tugging Meg’s college sweater over my teal leggings, I point my feet in the dainty, pink shoes. We’ve been running through dances for the big showcase all week, testing pairings and letting each person get a feel of which role they’d like to aim for.
Despite having no plans to audition, I asked Theodore if he’d mind hanging back to run through the music with me. He was only too happy for the extra practice. I become distracted from my own movements, watching him become lost in his music. The passion he exhibits is the epitome of what dance means to me. Somehow, I’ve managed to dance my way closer, my eyes lingering on his hands. They’re large, perfect for the piano, his manicured nails and smooth fingers stroking the keys. My breath hitches. What the fuck am I doing?!
Catching myself before I start drooling, I return to the back of the room and lean on the barre. In the floor-to-ceiling mirrors, I catch the blush lining my cheeks. My eyes drift to my backpack in the reflection, a familiar flutter beginning between my legs. Not now. I wait for Theodore’s tune to loop back to a point I know and throw myself into the dance.
