Page 42 of Forged By Shadows

The silence stretches on again, warped by the strain of new territory between us. His figure looms over me; heavy and intimidating. And then, much to my surprise, Wyatt does something I didn't expect – he laughs. It's not a hearty laugh, nor a particularly delightful one - it’s a broken chuckle filled with bitterness and disregard. It echoes inside the car before being carried away from existence.

“I’ve never pretended to be anything else," he remarks dryly, before he slowly unwinds his hand from around my throat and pushes himself off me. He moves back to his side of the vehicle, straightening himself up as if nothing happened. My heart is hammering in my chest.

“What the hell was that?!” I gasp, finding the lever to bring my seat back upright. Wyatt ignores me, staring forward but I refuse to drop it. “Hey, I’m talking to you. What just happened there?” Gripping Wyatt’s arm, his head turns and those eyes consume me again. His pupils are blown, the intensity within not only from hatred. My lips part.

“Don’t,” he growls thickly. Skidding sounds come from behind and I spot the SUV in the rearview mirror. The emotion in Wyatt’s features shuts down immediately, his hands gripping the wheel. My door is opened and I’m helped out by Dax.

“My turn to ride up front,” he explains with a kind smile. “Garrett’s whining is driving me crazy.” Subtly, Dax turns my hips and nudges me in the direction of the vehicle waiting behind. I walk on numb legs, confused and conflicted. Huxley slides out of the driver’s seat, a frown pinching his brows together. He looks over my throat and clenches his jaw.

“What the fuck did he do to you?” Trying to push past me, I gently place a hand on his chest. Huxley stills instantly.

“It’s fine. I deserved it,” I say. My voice is hollow and my eyes are looking into the distance until Huxley cups my cheeks, bringing my attention back to him.

“You never deserve it. You’re innocent in all of this.”

“Am I?” Huxley’s chocolate eyes widen to match mine. Something about Wyatt’s reaction has thrown my mind into turmoil. Something happened in that car and I have no idea what it was. Huxley guides me to the backseat where Garrett and Axel are waiting. I’m enveloped in their touch, cuddled from both sides. Huxley’s gaze continues to drift to mine in the rear-view mirror, the frown tugging at the corners of my mouth remaining.

Hating Wyatt because he hates me is easy. But when he slips up and lets another emotion break through, I struggle to reflect it back. Especially when I don’t know what that new emotion is.

Chapter Thirty One

We arrive at our hotel as the sky becomes blemished with rays of a muddy sunset. Perhaps my mood is dulling the colors, but I’m hardly focused. Garrett fell asleep on me hours ago, my shoulder long gone numb. Axel is lost to his own world, staring out of the window while tracing patterns over my hand and arm. Huxley glances at me often in the rearview mirror, his expression unreadable. I’m too trapped in my own mess of thoughts to be able to answer his scrutiny with reassurance.

“We’ll stop here tonight. There’s another six hours to go tomorrow. I’ve got the key cards,” Wyatt says through the driver’s open window as the vehicle comes to a halt. Huxley nods and steps out to attend to the bags, leaving me with Garrett drooling on my shoulder and Axel's absent-minded touches.

“I'm going to wake him,” I whisper, nodding towards Garrett. I’m done with being stuffed in a car for today, heightened emotions and unspoken questions filling my head.

“Mmmhmm.” Axel acknowledges, his eyes never leaving the sight of the hotel outside. There’s something distant about him and my heart tugs that I don’t feel comfortable enough yet to outright ask him. Maybe if I had realized sooner in the journey, I could have distracted him with some small talk. Patting Garrett’s arm lightly, he snorts and grunts.

“Garrett. We’re here.”

"Ugh," Garrett blinks awake, rubbing his eyes and looking around blearily. He struggles upright, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand. Axel still doesn’t move, lost in a world of his own. Garrett notices instantly.

“Hey Peach, would you mind attending to Dax?” Garrett gestures out of the window. Dax is leaning against the Nissan a few spaces down, a cigarette between his lips. “He only smokes when he’s stressed. Riding with Wyatt must have been…interesting.” He proceeds to crack open the door – a polite way of telling me to give him and Axel some space.

“Did I…do something?” The words float out of me before I realize there’s concern churning in my chest. Garrett’s eyes drop to my neck and return to my face so quickly, I feel the truth like a punch to my gut. The bruise growing on my throat has triggered something for Axel. Nodding, I maneuver myself over Garrett’s lap and exit the SUV. I have no right to feel the ache at being excluded. Axel has his demons; I know that. As much as I know that Garrett is the best to deal with them.

Approaching the Nissan, I lean next to Dax and hold out my fingers. “May I?”

“You smoke?” he raises a brow.

“On days like this.” I accept the cigarette and take a long drag. What I really want to say is, one summer I took a bad turn and Meg’s friends hooked me up with a large amount of weed.

It followed the release of a new documentary made of my birth father and on a whim, a group of us thought it would be an interesting watch. Seeing how the media portrayed me was often comical; some Rapunzel style character who got her happily ever after. But I hadn’t been prepared for the number of interviews this documentary featured. The amount of people involved, those who knew of the abuse I suffered and did nothing to save me. And then there was him. He gave graphic recounts of what he did to me from the safety of his jail cell. He was almost proud. The glee in his eyes as he described my sickening memories became a recurring nightmare I couldn’t shake unless I was sated and high enough to empty out my mind.

Huxley returns, slightly breathless and juggling key cards. "You and Wyatt have rooms to yourselves, Dax and I, and Axel and Garrett will share," he explains, handing out the key cards before offering mine. “I figured you might need some time alone.”

“What have I missed?” Dax frowns further. I stop myself from pushing the creases out from between his brows. I wish we could go back to this morning, where excitement was high and the day held so much potential. I’m not sure being alone is what I need, but I also have no words to offer for otherwise.

“Nothing. Let’s head in for the night.” I shoulder my bag and walk through the hotel’s lobby, although sleep is far from my mind. I’m still reeling from the interaction with Wyatt earlier today, and everything else seems insignificant.

For a roadside hotel in a small town, the floors are shiny and polished, a scent of lemon cleanliness in the air. Potted plants line the walls, adding a touch of greenery to the otherwise beige space. The front desk is tall and wooden, and there are flushed sofas and armchairs scattered around for guests to relax in. It’s more than pleasant.

Our rooms are all located down the same hallway, five floors up from reception. I opt for the stairs, eager to avoid any awkward silences such as the cramped elevator ride. Garrett and Axel spill out of the elevator at the same time as I emerge. The smirks back in full force, as if there’s a naughty joke only the pair of them are in on.

“If you need tiring out later, we’ll be awake. Just give us a little time first.” Garrett gives me a lazy wink before disappearing into their door with Axel trailing behind him. His head is down, the image of submission. Dax and Wyatt enter their rooms, leaving me alone with Huxley who’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You should’ve let me go after Wyatt,” he says eventually. There’s a quiet anger simmering in his voice that makes me shift uncomfortably on my feet. My stomach slowly turns to lead.

---