Haunted by Secrets (Shadowed Souls #3)

Chapter Sixteen

I hang back, watching from a distance as Axel is quickly but carefully taken up the grand staircase. Garrett and Hux carry his gurney between them, the ambulance driver carrying the IV drip and bag of equipment right behind. We’re told by an elderly butler that a doctor has been contacted about temporarily moving in. He will arrive in the morning.

That leaves Dax to gingerly help a sleepy Avery ascend those same stairs with one arm, her head lolling against his neck, her bag slung over his shoulder. She’s slept the entire way, her eyelids glued shut whenever I snuck a sly look into the backseat.

I’m not buying it.

Pushing off the damaged SUV, I unfold my arms and stride through the entrance. The uniformed butler, who has been not-so-patiently waiting for me, closes the huge door and clears his throat.

“Do you need an escort to one of the guest bedrooms?” He raises a gray brow, his expression the opposite of helpful. It seems he didn’t want us here as much as we didn’t want to come. Shaking my head, I grab my duffle bag from where it’s been dumped in the lobby. He’s gone before I’ve straightened, leaving me to brood. I truly thought the next home I stepped into would be my last.

A loving home with the woman who’s been desperate to love me for my entire life. I suppose my only saving grace is that I hadn’t warned Rachel we were coming, or she would have been going stir-crazy when we didn’t show up. The Perelli’s manor was the only place I thought might be safe for Avery, a place of sanctuary until we could ensure Meg wasn’t in danger. Until I came up with an alternative for all of the Souls and the girls. I’m just playing puppet master until the day I feel relieved of duty.

I drag my feet toward the stairs, the echo of my footsteps swallowed by the grandeur of Axel's family home. The place feels suffocating, with its vaulted ceilings and heavy drapes that block out the moonlight. It reeks of wealth and sordid secrets—the kind of place that makes my skin itch with the knowledge of what’s happened within these very walls.

As I climb, I replay the look on Avery’s face when we arrived, the way her lips parted as she took it all in, her arm tightening on Dax’s arm. She put on a great show, if I didn’t know better than to fall for it. That’s why I’m not surprised when I catch the soft rustle of movement in one of the rooms just down the hall.

Carefully, I set my duffle bag down and creep toward the sound. The door is cracked open, and through the sliver of light, I see her. A curtain of golden hair and lean limbs crouched near the foot of the bed, her bag open on the floor and her fingers working frantically. Behind her, drawers in the dresser are left open, clothing hanging over the wood from her haste. She darts to one bedside cabinet, then another, digging around before returning.

Avery checks the time on her phone; her face is suddenly illuminated by the glaring light. I inhale sharply at the pink tinge of her cheeks and the way her blue eyes are blown wide as she frantically twists to Dax’s bag. I watch her decide which of his belongings may be of use to her with quick, efficient movements. Down the hallway, a toilet flushes, and I know the moment she does, she’s nearly out of time.

“Going somewhere?” I lean against the doorframe, folding my arms across my chest. Avery freezes, her shoulders tensing as if bracing for impact. Slowly, she straightens, but she doesn’t turn to face me.

“I don’t have time for this, Wyatt.” Avery’s voice is sharper than usual. Whatever she’s spent hours thinking about whilst feigning sleep in the car, she’s come to the wrong conclusion. I bite back the harsh retort that slips onto my tongue. What about the men in this house, the family she chose to build? Don’t they need her? Don’t I ?

“And you know I’m not going to let you run off in the middle of the night,” I go with instead. Pushing the door open wider, I step inside to block her exit. “Especially when you know damn well it’s not safe.”

Finally, she spins around, her eyes flashing and fists clenching with defiance. “You know I can’t just sit here when Meg needs me. And I don’t need your permission to leave. I’m not your responsibility.”

“Like hell you’re not.” My voice is low and steady, but anger simmers beneath the surface. I vaguely hear the shower down the hall switch on, the thunder of water hitting the floor, buying me a few more minutes of time. Dax won’t stay away for long, but it will have to be enough. Closing the door with my back, I look upon the woman I let creep beneath my defences with daggers in my eyes.

“Did yesterday mean nothing to you?” I growl, the sound barely audible to my own ears. Avery gasps, most likely reliving the way I kissed every inch of her body, how I held her and pushed into her with maddening slowness. “Did I not prove that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to look after you? And now, with Axel unconscious somewhere beneath this roof, you want to leave and rip us all apart again?”

My accusation strikes just as intended, a direct arrow to the heart. Avery hardens her features, mirroring back the mask she’s used to receiving from me.

“I’m just leading by your example,” she snaps, her voice rising. “We agreed to stay with Axel, but this,” she throws her hands up and gestures around the room. “This is a prison. I thought I could wait until he was better, but every day we wait is another day she suffers. I can’t just sit around, going insane, while?—”

I close the distance between us in a few strides, gripping her shoulders before she can retreat. “Stop. We all need to sleep, then we can discuss this as a group tomorrow.” I swallow, the words unfamiliar to myself. I’m trying to do this whole team thing, trying to become comfortable with being open and honest, but Avery jerks against the hold of my fingers, shoving at my chest. I don’t move an inch.

“No! This is my fight. Fre…” her breath catches. “Fredrick is my monster. I know what to expect; Meg doesn’t.” A sickening twisting of my stomach results in my grip tightening. Avery winces, and I instantly loosen them.

“You survived him, and you were a child. Not even out of single digits. Meg is stubborn and headstrong. She won’t just survive him. She’ll make him pay.” I truly believe that, and by the way Avery whimpers against my chest, so does she. Her body is warm, trembling under my grip, but she doesn’t pull away. I can feel the heat radiating from her skin and the rapid pulse at the base of her throat.

We stand together, wallowing in our own helplessness. Avery knows leaving tonight without a clear plan is foolish. Just as much as I know that holding her close like this, comforting her when I can’t give her the love she needs…well, that’s just dangerous for the both of us.

Blue eyes lock on mine, glistening with tears she refuses to let fall. “Wyatt,” she whispers, her voice soft now, almost pleading. “What if you chose wrong? What if I’m not worth saving?”

I should let go. I should leave this conversation to someone else better suited for her. There’s enough of them nearby, but my feet don’t shift. The selfish bastard in me just can’t seem to let her go. My hands slide down from her shoulders, brushing her arms through my garish orange hoodie, tracing the curve of her knuckles until our fingers are intertwined. Her lips part, and I swear I can feel her heartbeat echoing mine.

“You don’t get to decide that.” I murmur, my voice dropping to a husky whisper. It barely takes a tilt of her head, the straightening of her spine, and her mouth is hovering against mine. Her breath hitches, a fragile sound that stokes the fire already burning in my chest. Closing that last inch of distance, her soft lips tremble slightly, parting with permission. The faint taste of her, sweet and familiar, devastates me.

My tongue is in her mouth in the next second. Without thinking, without reason, I pull her closer, our tangled hands slipping apart as my palm cups her jaw. A soft moan sounds, and I don’t know who it came from.

This is not a kiss. It’s a surrender. A reckless, desperate rush of everything I’ve buried. The anger, the fear, the unbearable ache of wanting her and never knowing if I’d deserve her. Her fingers twist into my shirt, pulling me closer as though I might disappear, and I let her. I let her take all of me because I don’t know how to stop. Now I’ve given her a piece of myself, the rest is pouring out, and I don’t have the tools or the willpower to stop it .

Cradling her gently, despite the storm raging inside me, I kiss away her fears until the door down the hall opens. I hear the click, the slapping of bare feet against marble. I’m out of time.

It takes more effort than I realised to pull myself back and break the connection between us. The drugs I briefly dabbled with at the safe house are nothing compared to the addiction that is Avery. Had I known simply tasting her lips would give me the same euphoric high and that she could vanish the shadows from my mind so easily, I wouldn’t have spent so long resisting her.

Those footsteps grow closer. Against my better judgement, I pull back, exhaling sharply and dropping my hands to my sides. Avery steps back too, hugging the hoodie around herself. Her bag sits half-packed at her feet, a silent witness to her attempt to flee.

“Look,” I say, softening my tone. “I know you’re scared. I get it. But I was wrong to think we were better apart.” I swallow, releasing the true meaning of my words before she does. “The Shadowed Souls are not separating again. So the question is, are you with us or not?”

Her jaw tightens, and for a moment, I think she’ll argue. But then her shoulders sag and the fight drains out of her. “I hate this,” she whispers.

“Join the club,” I mutter. Just outside the door, Huxley calls Dax’s name, the pair falling into a hushed conversation. Carefully and silently, I step around Avery, crouching to pick up her bag. I upturn the contents onto the floor and zip the bag closed, keeping it clenched in my fist. When I straighten, she’s watching me, her expression unreadable.

“Go to bed, Angel,” I say, brushing past her toward the door. Her fingers reach for my arm, a tentative brush that causes me to pause. Dropping her gaze to the floor, Avery nods, and she bites her bruised bottom lip.

“Goodnight, Wyatt,” she murmurs. I swallow hard, lifting my head to hold it high as I step into the hall and stride away before Huxley or Dax can comment. I find myself in the very same bathroom Dax vacated, steam billowing all around me. Shutting the door, I slump against the wood, releasing a shaky breath.

She’s still here. For now. But keeping her safe feels like trying to hold back the tide. With that thought in mind, I slip Avery’s pink phone out of her bag, delete Fredrick’s message and attached phone number, and toss it aside.

I meant what I said; I was wrong to separate us from the Souls. I was stupid to think it wouldn’t take all of us to look after her, especially when Avery seems intent on getting herself killed.