I straighten my shoulders and take my turn at the dartboard, my mind hardly focused on the game. I nail a bullseye without trying to. The metallic thunk of the dart hitting home rings out, a harsh interruption to the tense quiet. For a moment, we're all staring at the dartboard, as if that lone dart has all the answers we're too afraid to speak. Finally, Dax drains his drink and shatters the silence.
“We can't just ignore her,” He says gruffly, his tone laced with frustration and worry. His icy blue eyes are hard when they meet mine, but there’s fear there too. Fear for the girl upstairs, fear for us, fear of what will happen if we don’t calm Wyatt down soon.
Wyatt doesn’t look at any of us, let alone respond, as he retrieves his darts from various corners of the room. His shoulders are rigid with tension and I have a gut feeling that anything we say won’t sit well with him. Garrett's hand finds Axel's in silent solidarity as they brace themselves.
"Wyatt,” I sigh, taking one for the team. This time, I do grab him by the shoulders, stilling his movements. “Maybe you should find someone to take your mind off...things?" I offer. My smile is weak, and he sees straight through it.
“Don't do that.”
“Do what?”
He scoffs, shrugging me off and downing someone else’s shot.
“Don't send me off for someone else to deal with.” His green eyes are blurred but his scowl is in full force. My gut plummets to be on the receiving end of it for a change. Turning to face the three on the sofa, Wyatt accidentally stumbles into the table. Drinks topple and spill onto his plush carpet.
“I've been there for each one of you. I spent months cuddling Axel at night while Garrett was in the hospital. I memorized the entire medical physics textbook so I could push Dax through his entrance exams. And you of all people, Huxley, understand how it feels to be completely isolated while everyone else is watching.”
“I know, I know. You're right,” I attempt a different tactic. Ganging up on him isn’t going to get us anywhere. I break through something as his façade cracks. The fragile boy he keeps hidden deep, deep inside, makes a brief and rare appearance.
“It's my turn to be supported. You may not feel what I feel, but I expected you all to step up. I told you what her being nearby does to me. I can't...There's just…” Any trace of weakness is quickly shut down. Grabbing a bottle by the neck, Wyatt launches it across the room in a similar fashion to the one he shattered over Avery. “You know what, fuck the lot of you. I'll let someone else deal with my anger.” I hang my head as he storms away. God help whichever cheerleader volunteers.
“And the girl?” Garrett asks tentatively. He’s taken a protective step in front of Axel, as if such a question might cause another bottle to be thrown.
“Do what you want,” Wyatt throws up his middle finger as he exits, taking the tension with him. We stand for a while, stewing in regret. I’d known Avery’s presence on campus would affect him, but I should have been more active in making sure their paths didn’t cross. Speaking of which, who fucking invited her?
“Dudes. We're shit friends,” Dax groans, leaning his elbows on his knees. He’s toying with a cigarette in his fingers.
“We're not shit friends,” I roll my eyes. “I'll stand with Wyatt against the whole freaking world, but I'm not in the market of using someone's fears against them.” My eyes drift to the hazel ones determined on staring at the floor. Out of the five of us, Axel had the hardest time reading Avery’s transcripts. She’s a survivor, that’s for sure, making far more progress in opening up about her past than he ever has. Now it’s being used as a weapon against her.
I throw the rest of the darts in my hand, all three hitting the board without trying. Then I finish my drink, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
“Right. I’ll go get her,” I announce. I don’t trust Dax not to get ahead of himself, sporting his puppy dog eyes, and the torment twins won’t be any good to anyone for the rest of the weekend now. Garrett smiles, hiding everything behind that simple gesture.
“I’ll be on Axel-watch. This is the epitome of a triggering situation.”
“I’m literally right here,” Axel finally steps out of Garrett’s shadow but leans on him anyway. Their fingers intertwine and they start to walk on by. I step into Axel’s way, chasing the misery in his eyes.
“Come here,” I open my arms and draw him in for a hug. His head lingers on my shoulder and if anyone were to happen upon us now, they’d get the wrong impression. The Shadowed Souls formed from a bunch of needy kids who wanted to feel included, but over the years, it became so much more than that. We separated, we suffered. Now back together, we’re inseparable and some of us are still healing. For Axel, he relies on physical love in whatever form it comes in. I release him, letting the pair leave and give Dax a stiff warning to stay in his seat.
Taking the stairs two at a time, I enter the study. What strikes me first is the quiet. Just like with the trunk, she’s so quiet and I spend a few moments assessing if she’s managed to break out of the closet door. I’m sure if she had, the room would be as wrecked as the SUV in the garage. The keys are still on the desk beside her phone and a brown folder brandishing her name. Nothing is out of place. Deeply exhaling, I collect the keys and unlock the door, slowly turning the handle. Pulling it open, I wince at the mess I might find inside, when a blonde tornado launches herself at me.
“Holy fuck!” Glass shard in hand, I narrowly avoid losing my eye, gripping Avery’s arms and holding her back. Her blue eyes are feral, and despite my steel grip, she continues to jerk and buck against me. “Hey, hey! I’m not going to hurt you! I came to let you out.” Avery pauses, sizing me up like her next meal.
“Did you stand aside while he locked me in?” she asks and gives me a whole three seconds to hesitate on an answer. Gritting her teeth, she jumps for me again. Her wrists are so small in my hands, easy for her to twist and break free. Her clenched fist punches me in the jaw before the glass is pressed against my throat. I back up, hitting the wall and holding my hands where she can see them.
“Whoa! Let’s just take a breath, try to-”
“If you tell me to calm down, it’ll be the last thing you do.” Avery’s hand on the shard is unwavering. Her whole body, in fact, is completely steady. I’m careful not to swallow, or shudder against the knee she has pressing into my balls.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I say tentatively. A drop of scarlet red rolls down Avery’s arm. “You’re bleeding. Let me help.” Against my better judgment, I cup Avery’s hand and gently pull it away from my throat. I pluck the thick shard from the whiskey bottle from her grip. She permits it, now that she’s distracted by the open cut on her palm.
Keeping my hold loose, I manage to guide her through the hallway. A few people jump out of our way, the whispers already starting to circulate as I pull Avery into my bedroom. We head straight for the bathroom where I grab a first aid kit from the bottom drawer. When I turn back, Avery is sitting on the countertop, her hand under the faucet. I watch her in silence, thankful the wound isn’t too deep.
“Would you really have cut me?” I need to know for future reference. I won’t be the first to aid her next time if it’s going to cost me. Avery gives me a half-shrug which is just as terrifying. She didn’t even know. It takes a while for the bleeding to slow, after which I pat her palm dry and apply a dressing. Then, I wrap a bandage around her hand. All the while, my thumbs stroke the lingering bruising around her wrists at any chance they get. Does she have any idea how beautiful she was, restrained and wanting? How good she tasted? I push away the thought.
“I want to go home,” Avery sighs, leaning back against my mirror. I look away from her raised chest, her slightly parted legs. Garrett isn’t here to persuade me that the best kind of payback is oral.
“I’ll walk you back to your dorm,” I reply hastily. Getting her out of Wyatt’s vicinity is what’s best for both of them. Avery shakes her head, staring vacantly across the room.