Page 70 of Forged By Shadows
“Is it worth having a tail on her, someone discreet who can watch from a distance?” Huxley tries to offer a useful solution. “Maybe from the outside, they might be able to see something we would miss.”
“We are far too close to make good judgment calls,” Dax admits. The dressing on Huxley’s shoulder and chest shows as much. He prioritized her escape over his own, protecting her the way any one of us would have. Seems stupid really, when no commitment has been made, but it feels right. Natural. I’d put Avery’s safety over mine without a second thought.
“We have to return to school,” Wyatt states coldly. “Regardless of all the pulling of heartstrings happening in this room right now, she is just one girl. Not worth throwing your futures away over.”
“What gives you the right-” Hux starts, but Wyatt’s sharp tongue is ready.
“I have every right. None of you would be here if it wasn’t for me. I’ve fought for all of you to have bright futures. Now look at yourselves. Throwing it away. You could have died, Huxley. What am I supposed to do then? When the gunshot happened in my family’s home, because of my family’s issues?”
Guilt. The crux of Wyatt’s bad moods and terrible decision making. He keeps us all at arm’s length, but is the first to buy our way out of trouble. I clear my throat, preparing to rip off the band aid. To alleviate Wyatt of the role he’s put himself in. Although incredibly thankful, we never asked for him to be our leader. Especially when that means he’ll never actually be one of us, always distanced, always up on a pedestal while we cower underneath. The only relationships Wyatt understands are transactional.
“It’s not your job to look after us anymore, Wyatt.” My voice rings clear through the hospital room.
“Not my job…” Wyatt stalls his pacing and looks up. His eyes are wide, meeting each one of us in turn. I sense everyone holding their breath, side glances being passed around. Out of everyone, I was probably deemed the least likely to voice their thoughts. I’m just the coward, right? The soft, clingy burden they keep around. The one who had his chance at finding Avery before the gunmen and failed. Yeah, Wyatt’s not the only one grappling with his guilt.
Wyatt storms out in a flurry, making a point of avoiding me. My eyes lower, sadness twinging the corners of my mouth. Garrett’s foot shifts, outstretching to nudge my shoe. I retract it.
We’re all running dangerously low on the clothing we’d shoved in our backpacks, expecting to be returning to Waversea within two days. The cops escorted Wyatt back to the manor just once, allowing him to collect the rest of our belongings. He packed Avery’s too, a random selection of leggings and toiletries, and a box of their mom’s stuff - diary included.
Meeting Gare’s questioning gaze, I sigh. “You know I’m right. This dynamic hasn’t been working for us since long before Avery turned up. He can’t keep ordering us around. We want a brother, not a sergeant.” The others turn into themselves, deep in thought or perhaps unwilling to admit the truth. The door reopens, a head of blonde hair appearing.
“Woah,” Avery stops, sensing the atmosphere before she’s even stepped inside. “Who died?” A young and older woman shuffling by in the hallway gasp and sob, rushing to move on by. “Shit, I’m so sorry!” Avery calls after them. Sighing, she tosses her coffee cup into the trash can, the weight of it suggesting she didn’t drink any. I’m yet to touch mine either.
“I need some air. Will you walk with me?” I ask Avery, straightening. Her eyes fly to Huxley. Oh, right. “Do you mind, Hux?” I ask for her, although I’m already moving towards the exit. He gestures with his hand for us to go ahead, just as another presence appears at my back.
“It’s okay, Garrett. I’ve got this one.” I don’t look back, taking Avery’s hand and leading her away. I can imagine Garrett’s reaction. A swift gasp, the look of hurt bleeding through his dark brown eyes. It’s my day for upsetting everyone, it seems.
“What’s going on?” Avery blinks up at me, falling into step at my side. I know she’s referring to me and Garrett. There’s nothing to say, too much tension to wade through and some things, he just can’t joke his way through.
My fingers curl around hers, the tightness in my chest eases as we put some distance between us and the others. We’ve been cooped up for too many days, initially in the waiting room and then in Huxley’s private suite. The nurses urged us to leave, to find a room in the small hotel over the road, but we declined. No one was leaving until Huxley was out of surgery. Now, we won't leave until he’s discharged.
Placating Avery with a smile, I lead her out into the courtyard. A chill is blowing in, tinted leaves falling from overhanging branches. I use the cold as my excuse to keep walking, guiding Avery over a busy main road to that small hotel. She says nothing as I eagerly grab the first room available, needing to pay for the entire night up front. It may have been a little obvious if I asked for an hourly rate. On the ground floor, I press a keycard into the door and crowd Avery inside, letting base need steer me. Avery doesn’t object, her large blue eyes blinking up at me.
“Are you sure about this?”
I lower, grabbing Avery by the back of her thighs and lift her onto the desk. The room is basic, a double bed, wardrobe, ironing board. A small bathroom is reflected in the mirror beyond Avery’s head. I dip my mouth to her neck, pressing kisses to her collarbone, her throat, her jaw.
“Without sounding like a total douche, I need this. I’m not like the others. I need to touch and be touched. I need your comfort, I need you to remind me of what it feels like to be taken care of.” Avery allows my exploration of her exposed skin, not an inch of her face and neck going unkissed. Her hands lightly settle on my waist over my t-shirt.
“I meant, are you sure about doing this without Garrett?” I still, my fingers tangled in her hair.
Does she know this will be the first time I’ll have been alone with a woman since leaving my childhood home? Does she know the exact nature of the horrors those women did to me, and what I’ve dreamt of doing back to them ever since. Garrett is my keeper, making sure I don’t slip into a memory mid-fucking and let my rage bleed out. But I’m safe with Avery, and more importantly, Avery is safe with me.
I slip the hoodie over her head, finding a thin cotton vest underneath. Tracing the line of her strap, I dare a glance at her expression. Glazed eyes assess me above a faint smatter of freckles on her button nose and her golden hair tickles my chest.
“I need to learn to live without Garrett. He says as much himself.”
“Axel, no-”
“Don’t,” I look away. “We all know it's only a matter of time before he leaves me with nothing but empty memories and false notions. It’s who he is.”
Leaning her forehead against mine, Avery parts her legs and hooks her arms around my neck so we are fully pressed against each other. We stay like that, happy to support one another without judgment for the longest time. This is my method of survival. Gentle touches and soft caresses remind me of how it feels to be loved. To be alive. Without them, I wouldn’t see much point in sticking around.
“Axel, we’re all shaken up after Huxley, but I really think-”
“Don’t think. Just touch me.” I’m thrown back into that selfish mode of starved contact. Gripping Avery’s nape in one hand and palming her breast in the other, I grind my crotch against hers, driving a groan from her. “Please touch me.”
Obeying immediately, Avery throws herself into my kiss. Her hands are everywhere, tracking my abs, scratching at my back. Our lips only part to hastily undress, shoes being kicked in all directions and clothing littering the aged carpet. I drop to my knees, dragging her sweatpants and panties off together. Avery’s nails scraping my head as I stop to appreciate her. Fuck, she’s beautiful.
