Page 4 of Forged By Shadows

"What...what kind of questions?" My shoulders sag inward, a feeble attempt to protect myself. This is what I was afraid of. A strange unknown place, surrounded by people eager to know every shred of my business. The tabloids are the worst for it, but at least they weren't in my personal space every day. I could block them out, locked away in my tower like Rapunzel. The redhead shrugs.

"Many of them are about your brother. What he likes, how he smells up close. If you've ever walked in on him in the shower, if his dick is really as big as they say. Things like that." My jaw drops, flames heating my cheeks. She laughs, waving my embarrassment off. "Don't worry about those bitches. They're desperate for Wyatt's attention in any capacity, whether it comes from befriending or bullying you. There's a target on your back, Avery Hughes. You should probably get a full night's sleep before the war starts tomorrow." The redhead laughs and starts to roll over. I straighten all of a sudden, my nostrils flaring. I may be timid, unused to college dynamics, but I don't take kindly to threats.

"And are you one of the bitches I should be on the lookout for?" My voice is steady. Her smile deepens. Her laughter grows louder, as if I've missed the joke.

"Your brother holds no interest to me. I'm gayer than a leprechaun scissoring a unicorn upon that magical rainbow in the sky." I blink several times, not sure how to respond. Maybe I do still need to look out for my roommate, but not in the way I thought. I can hear Meg in my head, tutting at me. She's gay, not a serial rapist. I hope.

"I'm McKayla, by the way," she fills the silence. "Just Kay is fine. I'm done for tonight, I've got track practice at dawn. Lock the door before you turn in." This time, Kay does roll over, pulling the covers up to her vibrant red hair. My eyes flicker to the doorway, noting the shuffle of steps and whispers nearing. I move in a flash, shutting and locking the door before my shadow has a chance to grace the grubby hallway carpet.

My hands are shaking as I silently unpack my clothes into the dresser and change out the bed sheets for a fresh set. Tomorrow will be a full-on day indeed, but not one I will be tackling without the right mindset. Starting with banishing the rumors I have no doubt Wyatt helped to create.

When Kay said she was leaving early, she wasn't kidding. I glance across the enclosed space, finding her bed empty and neatly made. Daring a glance at my phone, it's just past half five. I groan, pulling the covers over my head to block out warm rays of sunrise leaking through paper thin curtains.

After years of watching Wyatt sneer in the face of being ridiculously spoiled, I've tried my best to not follow suit. I don't ask for much beyond my means, working each Christmas in soup kitchens and asking for birthday gifts to be donated rather than receive them myself. But to a certain degree, it's impossible not to miss the blackout curtains, plush duvet and deep memory foam mattress I've become accustomed to.

Thinking ahead, I start to mentally play out the day, pre-empting and preparing. The cafeteria food won't be what I'm used to, the on-campus supermarket probably stocking brands I've never heard of. Then there’s the thought of communal showers, which I’m dreading. It'll be an adjustment, but I haven't always lived this life. I once ate whatever crumbs were left behind and washed with the last drop of hand soap I could conjure from an almost empty pot.

I slip into a half-dazed state where the two versions of my life bleed together and somewhere along the way, I fail to remember which girl I am. The timid one sporting bruises, or the untouchable heiress who locks herself away. When I stir once more, it's with a dull headache starting to throb behind my eyes. Pulling the covers back on a sigh, the light is temporarily shrouded by a large silhouette looming over me.

"Ahh!" I scream, throwing a fist wildly. It connects, but doesn't pack half the punch my self-defense teacher taught me. A deep chuckle rumbles through the room.

"Oh, you're going to be fun," the figure muses and steps back. Watching me for a moment longer, while I clutch the cover to my heaving chest, he wanders towards the doorway.

"Who the hell are you?!" I find my voice. When he twists the latch from inside, my eyes widen. "And how the fuck did you get in here?!"

"Tsk, tsk, Peach. Do you kiss Nixon with that dirty mouth?" he chuckles again. I'm stunned, desperately trying to take in the stranger's features. Floppy brown hair flicks in all directions, as if it's been styled to look like he's just rolled out of bed. There's nothing to note about his clothing; sweatpants covering his lean legs and a pair of Air Jordan's on his feet. From the short sleeves of his t-shirt to his knuckles, he’s coated in ink. A colorful mismatch of images that don’t merge together, but rather tell individual stories. Secrets ready to be cracked open, but not by me. Definitely not by me.

I don't know this man, and I'm certain he doesn't know me. Upon opening the door to leave, another body suddenly appears and crowds him back inside. This is turning into an early morning circus and I'm the only spectator.

"Fuck's sake, Garrett," the man growls. His hair is trimmed short, causing the sharpness of his jawline and cheekbones to appear razor-cut in the artificial light streaming from the hallway. Slapping Garrett on the back of his head, he also turns to assess me too closely. I fight against the urge to shrink back under his all-seeing gaze. "Wyatt told us to watch her from a distance," he grumbles, his words not meant for me. Garrett is stroking his head, a wide smirk on his face.

"Give me a break, Axel. I wasn’t going to wake her with my cock in her mouth.” He rolls his eyes while I hide a whimper and shift further beneath the covers. “I just wanted a closer look. Besides, someone needs to give her an official tour."

"And you thought you were the best man for the job?” Axel scoffs. “I just watched you scale the drainpipes and climb through her bedroom window." I inhale sharply, eyes darting to the window in question. Note to self - replace all of the locks pronto.

Axel doesn't take his eyes off me, standing shoulder to shoulder with Garrett at the foot of my bed. The pair seem to draw all of the air out of the room, making it hard to breathe, let alone scream at them to get lost. All of my training, every scenario of my past I've replayed in my head, pinpointing where I could have fought back or been stronger. Gone. I'm still just as easy to trap, and that drives more of a knife through my chest than the two sizing me up in my pajamas.

"Dammit, Garrett. You never do as you're told," Axel sighs, clearly the sterner one. Then he snaps an order intended for me. "Get yourself sorted. We leave in ten minutes."

"Erm," my mind trips over itself. "Thanks but...no thanks. I have a map, I'm sure I'll be just fine." They give me matching condescending smirks, but I hold my ground. It's my first day, the first chance to make a good impression. I'm sure as shit not going to be caught trailing the men who have been ordered to 'watch me from a distance'. Garrett breaks his stare first, placing a hand on his friend’s arm and giving me a pleasing eye flutter.

"See, she’s so cute and naive," he pouts. "I reckon we could keep her, just for a little while.” My brows furrow but Axel sighs again, stretching out his neck.

"Ten minutes." The pair retreat, leaving me alone with my heart pounding in my chest. I stare around the room, hunting for a means to escape. How close are drainpipes beyond the window?

"I don't hear any movement in there, Peach," Garrett calls back. "I can always come and give you a hand if needed." There's a swift 'oomph' where I imagine Axel has hit him again, but I don't wait around to see if he'll deliver on that promise. He's already climbed through my window once this morning.

Chapter Two

Whatever picture I’d created in my mind of Waversea College, I’m left reeling at the reality. It’s much bigger and busier than I’d expected. Students cram into a canteen for breakfast, eagerly hunting for a free seat. Their desperation is exasperated by the multiple cafe’s we’ve passed, which are also packed from window to wall, many resigning to stand in small groups and nurse their coffees. Curious eyes catch mine whenever my kidnappers aren’t looking. Whether Garrett actually notices any of the people darting out of his path remains to be seen.

“Over there is the art block,” he throws his hand lazily to a parallel building through the hallway windows. I’m distracted once again by his colorful tattoos. They’re an array of illustrations, none matching but all slotted together in a makeshift sleeve. Cartoon characters, flowers, skulls, even some popular logos.

“And connected to that, the music rooms. Generally, if I’m in the mood for a decent blowjob from someone who knows how to tongue a flute, while another paints my chest with a ‘We Love Garrett’ masterpiece, that’s where I go.” Axel groans, shaking his head but doesn’t hit his friend again. I try not to choke on the pastry I was handed at the beginning of the tour and ordered to eat on the go.

“Someone,” I mutter around a mouthful. The pair don’t hear me over the rush of those responding to a distant bell. That’s what he said - not a woman, not a female, but someone. Suddenly, I slow to assess how Axel’s bicep brushes Garrett’s repeatedly. Purposefully. Whenever they’re forced apart by a railing or similar, they automatically draw back towards one another. We move from one block to the next, the names of lecture halls becoming a blur. Breaching the main courtyard, I stop at the top of the steps.

The buildings here are different, older. Creating a rectangle around a central fountain, four gothic structures stretch wide and high, more windows than I can comprehend catching the morning light. Directly opposite, a huge window of stained glass sits directly between a huge arched doorway and the brass bell in a clocktower. The courtyard, complete with stone benches and carefully curated flowers, is so out of place. I have to look back into the corridor behind, checking I haven’t stepped into some other dimension. The hallway is quieter now, everyone in class. On that thought…

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