Page 55 of Forged By Shadows

Passing the pool, we step through the open French doors to find only one person is still awake. Wyatt is reclined on the sofa, feet up and a book in his hands. I push down the overwhelming urge to dive on him with my fists swinging, and instead I smack his book so it hits him in the face.

“You’re absolutely pathetic. I hope you know that,” I raise my chin and walk away, Dax’s hand still in mine. Wyatt yells a string of curses after me, causing my smile to deepen as I climb the stairs.

“What was that about?” Dax asks, then catches himself as we stop on the top landing. “Actually, don’t answer that. Sweet dreams, Little Swan.” His lips press against mine in a light caress, careful not to cause any pain to my busted lip. Dax never pushes for more, further cementing that everything’s going to be okay. I smile as we break apart.

“Goodnight Dax.”

Huxley leads me the rest of the way to my room, where Meg is passed out across the bed, a bottle of wine tucked into her armpit. With a snort, I peck Huxley on the cheek and head inside. Meg mumbles that I have some serious explaining to do when I adjust and tuck her into bed, before heading into the bathroom. I undress, flicking on the shower. Just before the room fills with steam, I lean on the counter to stare at myself in the mirror.

My cheeks are pink, my lip split down the left side. My hair is a rat’s nest and my neck has mud splattered across it. Yet I’m smiling, and I feel whole. How the hell is my life this crazy?

Chapter Thirty Eight

Drumming my fingers on my thighs, I can’t take it anymore. I push out of the car, preferring to pace outside. It’s been over an hour since I text Avery to meet me here, and with each passing second, I have the dreaded feeling she failed to get out of the mansion without any attention. I don’t know what came over me when I woke up this morning. I lay in bed all of last night in a half-dream state, imagining ways I can get closer to Avery. Of how I can put myself more in the forefront. I love my brothers, but when competing for attention, they’ve got the charisma and confidence I sorely lack.

“Would you like me to take you back?” Huxley’s-borrowed driver lowers the window and leaned over the passenger seat to ask. I twist my lips, staring at my phone’s screen. She said she’d be here.

“Give it a little longer,” I sigh, tapping my foot. He nods and retracts, leaving me to question if I should have done something simpler. A walk around Huxley’s estate or a leisurely morning swim, maybe? But no - that wouldn’t have been surprising enough. I want Avery to see there’s more sides to me than the geeky guy who wants to carry bags and open doors for her. She told me last night that she doesn’t feel good enough, and I’ve never resonated with her so much.

I’m about to call it quits when a dark town car races past the street, before backtracking and coming to a screeching halt just beside me. My heart hammers against my ribcage as the backdoor flies open. Axel and Wyatt scoot out, as Huxley abandons the passenger seat. His knuckles are painfully white and when I look past him, I can see why.

“You let Garrett drive?!”

“No one lets Garrett do anything. He just…does.” Huxley doubles over, ready to dry heave. I hide my irritation, crossing my arms in an effort to remain calm.

“Where is Avery?”

“She’s riding with Meg,” Axel answers, joining my side to face the road. “They were supposed to follow, but Garrett thought shaking them loose around town would be equally as fun.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. I should have known better than to think just because I’m patient, waiting my turn to have Avery’s undivided attention, that the others would extend me the same courtesy. There’s a reason good guys always finish last, because the nosey fuckers in the way are easier to placate than ignore.

“So, what’s the deal, Daxy?” Garrett slings an arm over my shoulder. “I was just about to have second breakfast when your distress call came in.”

“Distress call?” I frown, looking out at my phone. I’d sent a message in the group chat that I was busy this morning and I’d be back later.

“Yeah, you’re never busy. Wyatt should know, he controls your calendar. We were worried you’d been kidnapped and half of your organs would have been listed on the black market by now.”

“Not worried enough to forego showering,” I roll my eyes as his soapy smell washes over me. Garrett’s grin is infectious and I shrug him off before he sees that he’s got through to me.

A second town car appears in a much calmer fashion, pulling up smoothly into a parking space beside the building’s entrance. Avery and Meg appear with wide smiles and a carton of drinks each. They’ve dressed similarly in tight-fitting leggings and oversized college sweaters, their hair in high ponytails. Meg calls out the random assortment of drinks they’ve brought, from coffees to bubble teas, while people snatch up their preference. Slipping away, Avery approaches me last with a sweet smile.

“Sorry we’re late. We couldn’t be bothered with Garrett’s detour, so we took one of our own.” She hands me a plastic cup with a straw. Strawberry milkshake with cream and sprinkles. Grinning, I accept it whilst winding an arm around her waist and tugging her closer.

“Couldn’t get out undetected, I take it?” I say into her ear. She leans into me, brushing her nose along my jaw.

“Not a chance.” Her hands slip underneath my t-shirt, trailing over my abs with sensual slowness. “But don’t worry about them. I’m here for you.” I smile genuinely then, skating a quick kiss over her temple. Garrett starts to get bouncy, thanks to the mini cup in his large hand. Ahh fuck, who let him have an expresso? Leading Avery towards the building, I can’t find it in me to be angry. This is how it’s going to be, all of us orbiting around her. I should get used to it and still find a way to stand out.

The warehouse is on the outskirts of town. If it weren’t for the music leaking through the high windows, anyone would think the old structure was derelict. Graffiti covers the exterior shutters and the main entrance is boarded up with wooden planks. A simple sign with an arrow indicates the side door is to be used for attendees, which creaks as I open it for Avery to pass through. She doesn’t hesitate, trusting me to follow right behind.

Strobe lighting bounces against a polished wooden floor filling the center, sectioned off by red ropes. The back of the warehouse has a small diner next to an arcade, every machine switched on. Random popcorn and candy floss machines are scattered amongst empty tables and chairs. Ed’s Roller Disco is said to have once been the place to be on a Friday night. It might not be in its prime anymore, but it’s perfectly secluded for us. After putting a call in to the owner and mentioning Huxley’s name, I managed to get the place stocked and fully staffed to ourselves for the entire day.

In one bundle, everyone barring Wyatt runs over to the skate hire booth like a bunch of children. He lingers back, keeping himself removed from the fun as he always does. I wait my turn, before requesting my required shoe size from the punky girl behind the desk. I also notice an on-hand arcade assistant, as well as kitchen and serving staff present in the diner. Accepting my skates, I sit in a nearby chair to pull them onto my feet and tie the laces.

Avery and Meg are already on the rink, hand in hand while they skate and sway to the music. I had no doubt they’d be naturals, even if I was hoping to be the one holding Avery’s hand. Music bleeds from the speakers, one heavy bass tune blending into the next. Lifting her arms above her head, Avery’s sweatshirt rises to reveal the top of her skin-tight leggings leaving nothing to the imagination. Her ass is a testament to all of her dance training, her thighs and calves something to be both jealous and proud of.

Axel passes by, his fingers lingering on my arm and a question in his hazel eyes. I let him pull me to my feet, steadying myself on his arms before he leads the way onto the rink. “You all good, Axe?” Instead of answering, he looks over my shoulder to where Wyatt has taken up position in a booth on his own. With the table dividing us, he can safely watch from the shadows and pose no risk of being invited to join in. I sigh, patting Axel’s bicep.

“He’ll come around eventually,” I say without really believing it. Wyatt hasn’t been this distant for this long before. Axel’s expression doesn’t change and not for the first time, I wish he didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve. Empathizing with all of us takes a toll that I worry he won’t always be able to handle. I tug us over to the rink, offering out my hand. His resulting smile is heartwarming.

The first glide of wheels shifts something inside both of us. The stress that’s been weighing on my chest lately begins to lift with the anticipation of having some fun. One look around and I know having everyone here was for the best. We deserve to cut loose.

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