“Deal,” he winks playfully. The doctor stays between my legs and takes the opportunity to check on the dressing strapped to my abdomen. I push up onto my elbows with curiosity, wanting to see what the fuss is all about. The bandage is lifted to reveal a thinly stitched line below my belly button, pink and raised. A glint of metal flashes in my mind’s eye, some beefy guy dressed in black lunging for me, a high-pitched scream.
“Avery!” I suddenly shift, searching the room as if she’ll magically appear and groaning in reaction. “Is she- “
“She’s safe, she’s here in fact. I’ll tell you everything soon enough, just focus on getting better for now. I’ll take care of everything else.” Garrett soothes me by stroking my head, his lop-sided smile leaning over me. His undivided attention sends a flurry of butterflies through my stomach that have nothing to do with the re-dressing of my wound and everything to do with man who will definitely be my downfall. A faint click from the door closing sounds as he bends forward, his hair tickling my cheek a second before his lips press against mine with the softest brush. A gentle caress that brings every nerve ending to life, electricity coursing through my body.
The rest of the world melts away, the movement of his mouth on mine pulling every morsel of raw emotion to the surface until I’m left tingling and breathless. His tongue darts across my bottom lip as I break to inhale, my hand snaking up to pull him back down forcefully. Our tongues tangle as if they never thought they’d get this chance again, feverishly fighting for more and more. My discomfort is a distant memory, only me and him in this moment I never want to end. For one brief minute in time, he’s wholly mine. Pulling back slowly, Garrett kisses the tip of my nose and smiles with that dimple popping, heart stopping smile I could happily drown in. Damn, I might get stabbed more often.
Huxley
Avery moaning in her sleep distracts me from the hardback in my lap, Meg’s name falling from her lips. I’d woke hours ago in my makeshift bed on the floor, restless and unable to drift off again. Luckily, this particular guest room in Axel’s home has been used as the storage space for all his dad’s possessions. Boxes of classic literature, ornaments, even some of the finest suits I’ve seen line the opposite wall. Ignoring the morbid truth that someone’s life can be packed up and stashed away as if they never existed, I’d gone in search for a reason to stay beside Avery while she slept and found the entire works of Truman Capote in perfect condition. Axel doesn’t speak of his father often, but I do know he was beyond rich and surprisingly humble about it.
Another shuffle and groan sounds to my left, Avery gripped in the throes of the nightmare she’s had every night since Meg was taken. Placing the book onto the floor beside me, I kneel up to soothe the crease from between her eyebrows with my thumb. Her face relaxes on a deep exhale and she leans into my touch for a moment. If she were awake, she’d have lurched back and refused any comfort I could offer. That’s why I offered to sleep on the floor beside her, close enough to protect her but far enough away to not let anything happen in the night. She’d only hate herself for it in the morning.
Once her breathing has deepened again, I take one last look at the serenity in her features. Long eyelashes fan her pale cheeks, her golden hair shining in the early morning rays. Get some rest my angel. Grabbing a fresh set of clothes from my bag, I sneak out into the corridor and close the door with a soft click. The bathroom is only the next room along but I stroll slowly, letting my eyes roam over the interior bathed in daylight after arriving in pitch black last night. I’d stayed in mansions before, but this one is by far the grandest.
Wooden beams line the ceiling in a geometric pattern that matches the marbled flooring beyond the bannister. A glimmering chandelier sits central above the winding staircase, its crystals bathing me in a shimmering sea of light. Pointed archways frame either end of the hallway adding to the thick, wooden doors giving the building a gothic feel. Trailing my finger along the mahogany bannister, paint fumes travel to me through the maze of corridors. The butler who showed us to our room last night briefly spoke of the recent renovations in an irritable tone that matched the way he spoke about his employer and her new husband.
After a quick wash and change in an equally lavish double bathroom, I go in search for breakfast. Not that I’m hungry in the slightest, but I promised myself I needed to make the effort and restore my strength if I’m going to stand a chance of protecting Avery. Twice now I’ve been beaten down and rendered useless. My masculinity took a bashing the first-time round, but I refuse to sink any further into the rabbit hole. I need to be better. Her life could depend on it.
Turning towards the wide staircase, a door at the end of the hallway catches my eye. Not because its white unlike all the rest which are a range of the deepest and richest browns, but because there’s a small rectangular sign on this one. Creeping forwards, curiosity filling my veins, the sign comes into focus. A starry background sits behind a suited astronaut with ‘Axel’s Room’ scrawled in the centre. My heart squeezes
