48. Chapter Forty Seven

Chapter Forty Seven

T he next few days pass in a blur. Huxley's surgery took an agonizing amount of time, but went well. The bullet entered beneath his collar bone, missing the subclavian artery. It's a miracle his joint damage wasn't severe and his recovery should be smooth - if he abides by the surgeon's instructions.

As it is, Avery is tucked into his side, propped up in the hospital bed and turning the newspaper pages for him. Both she and Wyatt recently came back from being shouted at down the phone. In Avery's case, it was her lack of updating Meg which she caught shit for. Wyatt got an ear-full from Nixon.

"The police want to take another statement from you," Dax enters the room, six coffees mounted in a cardboard holder. His gaze seeks out Avery, and she groans.

"I've already told them everything." She sinks further into the baggy hoodie she's wearing - I think it's Garrett's. It's true, we've all heard her statement twice before and there's nothing left to say. The phone call Avery made from her closet to nine-one-one was actually intercepted, and it's possible she was speaking to an accomplice of the intruders. Luckily, a jogger passing by the manor heard the gunfire and called the real authorities.

As it stands, that voice on the end of the phone is the only tangible lead the cops have. Huxley's guards were drugged, the surveillance was wiped from an unknown source. This knowledge is the first time we've realized we're not dealing with some simple fan or harmless stalker. This is the big leagues, and we're all but small fish in their pond.

The groaning continues as Dax aids Avery in standing from the bed, puts a coffee in her hands and guides her towards the door. It's better to let the police ask their questions and leave, even if they don't give any advice for what we're supposed to do now. As Dax closes the door, I can see his expression means business.

"Any ideas?" he asks. We all know what he means. We've been passing hallway whispers, scrambling for ways to keep Avery safe. It's clear, to whoever is watching her, the very problem is us. But leaving her alone isn't an option. The attack on the manor was just the beginning. Those men were looking for her. They had instructions to take her.

"Aside from locking her in a basement?" Garrett pitches in from his chair in the corner. Dax remains standing by Hux's bed, the pair of them hitting Garrett with a death glare. "What?! I'll be down there too, caring for her most basic needs, and you guys can deliver us the finest food money can buy. Add in a few chains and whips - sounds like heaven to me." Wyatt hasn't stopped pacing for days, whereas I hover on the edge of a counter, my arms folded.

"This isn't a fucking joke, Garrett," I seethe. His brows hit his hairline but he doesn't say anything further.

"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.

From head to toe, from perked nipples to her glistening pussy, she's perfect. I don't need Avery to tug me closer, my mouth closing over her clit in the next instant. I push her thighs wide open for me, the surface of the desk equal to my kneeling height. My tongue is in her, thrusting, licking, laving. She tastes so sweet, my cock strains at full attention. I can't deny myself this time, unable to withhold from standing and sliding straight into her. Avery gasps and moans, a sound that will be imprinted in my mind forever. It's the sound of pure pleasure, and for once, it's all for me.

Lifting her from the desk, I fuck her without restraint. There's no need to pretend we aren't both chasing the same high, the same grip of reality which has been slipping. My breaths slip out in heavy pants between heated kisses, her teeth traveling down to bite my neck. I groan, every nerve ending in my body buzzing and alive. She marks me everywhere she can reach, not holding back. This is what I wanted, an outlet for us both. Avery pretends she isn't shaken by the ordeal at her home, the mystery that's unfurling around her. Now she knows, I'll be here to help her forget.

My balls slap against her ass as I pound harder, faster. There's no telling who breaks first, our matching groans ringing out as we cum together. I push us through, until every drop has been drawn out of me and is seeping down Avery's thighs. I'm still rock hard inside of her, my long legs crossing the room in four steps.

Without withdrawing from her tight cunt, I step into the shower and switch on the faucet. A lukewarm spray washes away the sweat coating our skin. I kiss Avery feverishly, pushing my tongue into her mouth, tangling with hers. Pushing her against the tiled wall, she gasps into me, her back arched. I move slower this time, long and languid thrusts, following the rise and fall of her body with each one. Her arms fall away, giving me full, unregulated control over her body. Reaching for the provided shower gel, I lift her hand and squeeze a huge dollop into her palm.

"Avery sweetheart. Please touch me." I place her hand on my chest. She is so compliant, lathering me, washing me. I lean into her every touch, my body rolling and drawing the sweetest sounds from my parted lips. Once she deems me clean and the water eradicates all of her hard work, Avery looks up at me from beneath hooded eyes, her chest flushed.

"Axel baby. Please make me forget." And I do just that.