“What the fuck happened to you, Kid?” Dax asks. “You’re shivering.”
“I’m fine, just leave it, okay?” I mutter turning my back on him and striding away. Pulling my hood up over my head, I keep walking, determined to be left alone. I’ve gone through enough tonight. Behind me, I hear the engine of his motorbike rev and in seconds he’s cruising beside me. It’s late, well past midnight, and rather than being tucked up in bed, or in the basement with the Breakers, I’m walking the streets trying to clear my head. Fat chance of that with Dax following me.
“Pen! Stop!” Dax growls, swerving his motorbike across my path. He kicks down the footrest and switches the engine off, tugging his helmet free. “We’ve been looking for you all damn night, Kid. You’re avoiding us.”
“I needed a break… just let it go, okay?” I try to step around him, and the brand new motorbike given to him on the back of shady dealings with Jeb and the Skins. The truth is, I have been avoiding them. Ever since that night in the cemetery, I’ve ignored their calls and made excuses about not being able to meet up with them. Apart from the one occasion I bumped into Zayn while walking Lena to school last week, they’ve not been all that hard to avoid since they’re all so busy being one of the Skins and breaking bones in Jeb’s name.
“No, I won’t let it go. We won’t. You can tell me what the fuck is up right now, or I’ll just follow you around all night. No skin off my nose,” he warns.
“Why do you have to be so stubborn, huh? This ain’t your problem to fix, it’s mine.” I glare at him, gritting my jaw to try and prevent all my truths from spilling free. I’m hurt, sad, angry, so fucking angry. I’m also terrified and that keeps my lips sealed shut.
“That’s where you’re wrong kid. Your problems are my problems. They always will be, I swear it.”
“Please just leave me alone,” I say, my voice cracking. I just want my Breakers back. The kids who danced with me, laughed with me, comforted, and protected me. Those boys are slowly fading, being replaced instead with men who’ll do anything Jeb asks.
“Is it your mum? Did she hurt you again?” he asks, ignoring me completely.
I shake my head furiously. It would be so much easier if it was her. Dax steps closer, reaching for me cautiously like he knows I’m close to laying into him. He understands how I’m feeling. Of all of the Breakers, he fucking gets it. I hate that. I hate that he knows where my pain comes from because he’s suffered the same way I have.
“Who then?” His fingers find my shoulders, and the bruises covered by my jumper. I let out a yelp. “Who did this to you, Kid?” he asks, releasing his hold on my arms, and cupping my face instead, forcing me to look up at him. He doesn’t need me to answer, because the person tormenting me pulls up alongside us in his car.
“Get your hands off my sister, motherfucker,” David snarls through the open window of his Audi. The sleek black exterior and alloy wheels bought with blood money and violence are nothing but a reminder of what and who he is, a fucking twisted psycho who loves to hurt me. Dax instantly reacts, automatically pushing me behind him. I reach for his arm, squeezing tightly.
“Please don’t,” I murmur.
Ignoring me, Dax draws himself up to his full height. David might have a few years on him, but Dax is as tall as my brother and as broad. He also has a name for himself now, cemented by the very real violence he can unleash at the behest of Jeb. Just like the other Breakers, Dax is a fighter, a violent one at that. So when I see hesitation in David’s eyes I know that it’s warranted, even if my brother chooses to ignore his own sense of self-preservation. They’d be equally matched in a fist fight, but my brother has never, ever, played by the rules. He’d pull out a weapon in a second.
“You stay the fuck away from Pen,” Dax growls, ignoring my pleas. He wants to protect me, except right now I just need him to leave because my brother isn’t someone he can mess with and live to tell the tale. David fights dirty.
“Or what, Breaker? You’ll snap one of my bones?” David laughs cruelly, his finger tapping against the window frame as his gaze flicks between me and Dax.
“No, I’ll fucking kill you.”
David starts laughing loudly, the sound reverberating around the quiet street. “Need I fucking remind you that it’s the Skins before whores?”
“Pen is not a whore, you piece of shit, and I have no affiliation to you.”
“Full of fucking bravado aren’t you, Dax? Just like the other little boys you hang around with. Jeb’s protection won’t last long, mate, so don’t threaten me if you know what’s good for you.”
The door to David’s car cracks open and Dax readies himself for the fight, but the sound of motorbikes approaching gives David pause. I snap my head around to see three familiar motorbikes roaring down the street. The rest of my Breakers are here and my stomach bottoms out. I want to yell at them to turn around and go, but fear keeps my voice quiet and my throat constricted. As they pull up, Xeno climbs off his motorbike first, yanking off his helmet. His hair is dishevelled and his face a mask of rage. David scoffs, looking at Xeno with a sneer.
“You, little sister, need to find some new friends.”
“Fuck you, David!” I seethe, suddenly finding my voice. The second his gaze meets mine I know I’ve made a grave mistake. I’ve learnt the hard way that defiance only ever fuels the monster that rules him.
“I would’ve thought that by now you’d learn some respect, Penelope. Looks like you’ve still got a lot to learn,” he says with a wide smile that only makes his threat that much worse.
“Get the fuck out of here!” Xeno growls, stepping towards him.
“See you soon, Penelope.” David laughs, slamming his car door. He hits the gas, speeding off into the night.
A breath of air whooshes out of me and my knees buckle just as Xeno reaches my side. He hauls me upright against his chest, pressing a surprising kiss against my hair. I’ve never been more relieved to smell burning rubber than I do at this point.
“I’m not going to ask if you’re okay because I can tell that you’re not,” Xeno says, concern edging his voice with a violence of its own. “Take her back to my place. I’ll be there soon,” Xeno drops his arm from around my shoulder and Dax takes me gently into his arms, nodding tightly.
“Not the basement?” Zayn asks, looking between us all. He reaches for my hand, taking it gently. It’s a simple gesture, one of solidarity and friendship. He doesn’t need to tell me he cares. I already know, and yet, why does it feel so different now?
Xeno shakes his head. “No, not the basement. Not anymore.”
York steps close, lifting my chin, his icy-blue eyes full of ire. “That fucking bastard,” he growls, anger seeping out of every pore as he takes a good look at me. Beneath the anger is pity and for some reason that makes me feel so much worse. I don’t want to be pitied. I don’t want to feel so fucking helpless. I don’t want to be afraid anymore. York frowns, reading me, understanding what I can’t even begin to articulate right now.
“York, go with Dax. You know where to find the spare key. Mum and Dad are away for a while, so there’ll be no questions,” Xeno says, before turning to Zayn. “Come with me, we need to speak with Jeb.”
Zayn nods once, presses a kiss against my cheek, then follows Xeno. They both climb back onto their motorbikes, and I watch as they pull on their helmets and speed off down the street.
“Hop on, Kid,” Dax says, guiding me to his bike. I stall, not wanting to be anywhere near an object bought for him by the man who rules the boys I love and who also turns a blind eye where my brother’s concerned. I’ve no idea how many people the Breakers have hurt, or the women David’s beaten, but I’m betting it’s a lot.
Sensing my unease, York reaches for me, tipping my chin up to meet his gaze. “It’s just a short ride to Xeno’s, we need to get you somewhere warm. You’re freezing, Titch.”
“Okay,” I mutter, too exhausted to argue. I climb on behind Dax, and put on the spare helmet York gives me, hoping I can still trust these boys.
“Drive safe, Dax. No wheelies, got it?” York warns.
Dax revs the bike, kicking back the footrest. “What do you take me for, man? I’ve got precious cargo right here,” he retorts, sliding the vizor closed and turning the bike away.
Half an hour later, I’m sitting on Xeno’s bed, wearing his t-shirt and a pair of his jogging bottoms after showering and changing clothes. My hair is still a wet, tangled mess, but I couldn’t find a comb to brush it out and decided that I don’t really care all that much about what I look like. There’s nothing I can do to hide the ugly bruises blooming on my skin, so what’s the point? I gently pull up the sleeve of my t-shirt and press against the purple bruise on my upper arm, trying and failing to stop the cry of pain releasing from my lips.
David has always taken pleasure in hurting me, but this attack was particularly violent. It’s as though he’s been saving up his rage to unleash on me, his favourite punching bag.
“I’ve got some Arnica gel for your bruises. Dax said it helps,” York explains, entering the room as I quickly pull down the sleeve of my t-shirt. “I’ve also made you a cup of tea and a sandwich.”
“Thanks,” I mumble as he places the tray on the side table and sits down on the bed beside me. I hold my hand out for the gel, but York picks it up, unscrews the cap and squirts some onto the tip of his fingers. I look at him warily.
“I promise I’ll be gentle,” he says softly.
I nod, beyond exhausted at this point. He shuffles closer, his fingers pressing lightly against my bruised skin. “He really deserves to fucking die,” York mutters.
Any response I have is swallowed up, buried beneath bitterness and pain. I want to point out that York is part of the same crew my brother belongs to. That he lives by the same rules. What had my brother said? Skins before whores? Is this how it’s going to be from now on? My brother gets to beat the shit out of me for kicks and my Breakers have to stand back and watch because of some stupid gang rule? They rescued Dax and I from Dante’s Crew and meted out their punishment, but I have to take David’s abuse because he’s one of them?
I suck a pained breath through my teeth as York begins to rub in the gel. He works quietly, diligently, not stopping as Dax enters the room and makes himself comfortable on the other side of me. It’s just as well Xeno has a large double bed as the three of us wouldn’t be able to fit otherwise.
“Are there any more bruises, Titch?” York asks.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Want to show me where?”
“On my back, my stomach, and chest.” Behind me Dax growls, and out of the corner of my eye I can see his fist clenching around the duvet, his knuckles turning white. I hold out my hand for the tube of gel. “I’ll do them.”
For a moment it falls silent, but when Dax shifts behind me, drawing in a jagged breath as his fingers reach for the hem of my t-shirt, my heart pounds for an entirely different reason. “Dax, what are you…?”
“Do you trust us, Kid?” he asks so quietly that I almost think that I’ve misheard him. The question is, do I trust them? I want to. I want to believe that they’re still the boys I love, but I the seed of doubt has been planted. I’ve heard the rumours. I’ve seen the evidence of their affiliation and their violence. Yet, right now, they’re just York and Dax, two boys I love, and if I can’t trust in that, what can I trust in?
“Yes,” I say simply, hoping my instincts are right.
