Lyrical: Chapter 33


Pen

Xeno grips my hand tightly and pulls me through the crowd behind him. My cheeks are flushed from York’s kisses, but it’s Xeno’s urgency that has my heart racing.

“This way,” he demands. His voice is strained, angry. I try to pull my arm out of his hold, but he just yanks harder.

“Let me go!” I hiss, slamming the flat of my hand against his bicep.

“Don’t fucking test me, Pen!”

When we reach one of the rooms situated off of the dancefloor, he kicks it open with his foot. The room is dimly lit and there’s nothing in the space but a loveseat against one wall, a cabinet against the other and a weird cross thing with silver hoops at either end, a rope threaded through it. He yanks me inside the room and my stupid heel on Clancy’s shoe snaps, pitching me forward. Shit. She’ll murder me. These are her favourites.

“Sit the fuck down!” he roars, pointing to the loveseat as he shoves me away from him. I stumble on unsteady legs, only to be held upright by two strong hands.

“What the fuck, Xeno?!” Zayn shouts, steadying me on my feet as York comes barrelling into the room behind him. He takes two steps towards Xeno, then punches him in the face. Xeno stumbles back from the force, but he corrects himself quickly and within a couple of steps has his forehead pressing against York’s. He’s vibrating with anger, but he doesn’t fight back. For a few seconds they remain head to head, their nostrils flaring.

“Come on then. Fucking give it to me!” Xeno taunts, a nasty sneer on his face.

York pushes against his chest. “DO NOT FUCKING TOUCH HER LIKE THAT AGAIN!” he yells.

“What the fuck is happening here?”

I whip my head around and watch Dax enter the room. He’s so huge, he practically fills the whole doorway. Xeno and York don’t acknowledge him, and Zayn’s gaze remains fixed on his bestfriends going head to head. I catch Dax’s eye as he steps slowly into the room and closes the door behind him, locking it. There’s a glimmer of something in his eyes that has me swallowing hard.

Fuck. It’s just me and them.

“Isn’t this what you wanted, motherfucker? To push me to act and now that I have, you don’t fucking like it? Well, fuck you and your damn games, York,” Xeno snarls back, blind rage making him seethe.

“I’ve been pushing you to open your motherfucking eyes! To see what’s right in front of your stubborn arse face. She doesn’t know anything. Can’t you see that? Can’t you fucking see that she’s a goddamn victim in all of this?”

Xeno’s gaze flicks to me, and I can only stare open-mouthed, trying to wrap my head around what the fuck’s happening. What don’t I know anything about? What does he mean by victim? What do they think they know?

“Stop fucking talking, York,” Xeno warns, focusing back on me as Zayn’s arms tighten around my waist. “Pen here has a habit of listening in on conversations she shouldn’t.”

“Screw you, Xeno. I didn’t ask to be dragged into this room,” I snap, but it comes out choked.

“Listen, Pen—” Xeno starts but Zayn cuts him off this time.

“No, shithead. You need to listen for once. You’re so fucking blinded by your anger and the betrayal you still feel that you can’t see this for what it is. I never took you for a fool, but fuck, man, you’re the biggest fool there is.”

“Get her out of here. Right the fuck now!” Xeno shouts.

No one moves.

It’s like a damn standoff, and I’ve had it. I’ve fucking had it.

The silence is deafening until music begins to play into the room. The haunting voice of Jacob Lee singing Demons fills the space. It couldn’t be a more perfect song. The beat of the drum echoes the pounding beat of my heart and the throbbing tension surrounding us. This song has a dangerous side to it, a darkness that sits right in the pit of your stomach. It’s sensual, but edged in threat. Like the blunt edge of a knife running over bare skin, or the coarseness of a rope wrapped around your wrists, just like the one hanging from the cross.

Making a split second decision, I kick off my shoes, shrug out of Zayn’s hold, and walk slowly over to the rope, swaying my hips to the beat of the music.

Picking up the end of the rope, I grasp it in my hand and step slowly backwards letting it unravel onto the floor. With my back to the Breakers, I spread my legs, drop my head backwards and raise my hands up in the air, the length of rope dangling from my clasped fingers. Holding onto the end of the rope with one hand, I curl my other hand around the thickness, then widen my arms slowly before snapping the rope taut above my head.

My heart pounds so loudly that it rivals the beat of the song. My body trembles with what I’m doing, but I have to get them to understand. Feeling like this, so fucking caught up in this mess is like a rope around our necks. We need to sever it. We need to be free from all this bullshit between us. Lifting my leg, I wrap it around the section of rope hanging from my hands, then spin to face my Breakers.

Jacob Lee sings about internal demons, about secrets and betrayal. His words are the darkness that throbs between us all, the pain and the anguish. The bass vibrates up through the floorboards, every beat echoing my thrashing heart as I lower the rope over my shoulders, so it hangs around me like a necklace.

I see anger. I see desire. I see hurt. I see lust.

I feel those same emotions. They rise up within me as my hips begin to sway sensually.

Right here, right now. This is our story. These are our demons. This is our dance.

It’s a risk, baring myself to these men so intimately like this. I’m locked in a room with them in a sex club. Two of them want to fuck me and the other two want me to feel the same pain they feel. Yet I don’t feel fear, only a desperate need to fix what’s broken.

I keep moving my body like a snake charmed by the music. Sliding the back of my hands up the side of my neck, I lift my hair up, then allow it to fall back down as I bite my lip provocatively. My hands twirl in the air above me, and I relish the way my Breakers watch me so intently that I feel as though every inch of my skin is on fire. Bringing my hands back down, I slide them over my breasts, following the curve of my waist and hips.

Xeno’s eyes blaze with anger.

Dax’s body is tense with hurt.

York’s mouth parts in desire.

And Zayn, he steps towards me with lust billowing between us.

Placing a kiss on my shoulder blade, he lifts the rope over my head and holds it out in front of me.

“Arms up, Pen,” he murmurs into my ear.

I raise them into the air once more as he wraps the rope around my waist, unravelling it from my leg at the same time. As he pulls, the rough material chafes against my leg, damaging my stockings and running between my legs. It makes me gasp with shock as the rope passes over my mound, rough against my clit. When the whole length of rope is wrapped around my middle tightly, he hands me the end, steps to my side then places his palm on the middle of my chest.

“You fucking slay me,” he says, leaning in for a kiss before wrapping his arm around my back, and tipping me backwards.

With my feet pressed against the floor and my knees bent at an angle, Zayn looks over at York and nods, inviting him to join in. York doesn’t hesitate. He crouches behind me, holding me beneath my shoulders, supporting me so that Zayn can stand up. With my core muscles locked tight, my thighs pressed together, and my feet flat on the floor, Zayn takes the rope from me and tugs. With perfect timing, York flips me around, the momentum of Zayn’s tug and the force of York’s hands helping me twist over until I land on my hands and knees. I lift my head to look up at York, flicking my hair and arching my back suggestively. I feel the material of my silk shorts riding up my arse cheeks, the roundness of my arse on display to Dax and Xeno, and I love it.

Swinging my hips, I crawl towards York who smiles down at me as I kneel before him. His fingers stroke down my face then rest beneath my chin. He urges me upwards, and I climb to my feet slowly. With one hand on my arse and the other cupping my face, he yanks me towards him and kisses me roughly, his tongue spearing my lips on a groan.

“Let those motherfuckers watch. Let them see what they’re missing,” York says against my mouth harshly. He squeezes my arse, bruising me with his touch. I fucking moan, not caring how I sound as he kisses me. At this moment, York owns me. He plunders my mouth, he grasps my arse, he grinds against me. It’s a powerful, intoxicating kiss.

“My turn,” Zayn growls.

There’s a tug at my waist, and I break the kiss as Zayn pulls on the end of the rope forcing me away from York. I turn with the momentum, rising onto the balls of my feet as he unravels me. Zayn captures me on the last turn, grasping my elbow and sliding his leg between mine roughly. His thigh hits my clit, and I can’t help but grind against his firm muscle as he lowers me backwards and slides his lips against my throat, but York is not to be outdone. From my upside down position I watch him spin on his feet, drop to his knees and grab hold of the rope, before spinning back upwards in a corkscrew turn. He places the rope around my neck and as Zayn lifts me back up it tightens slightly.

“York!” Dax warns, but I know York means me no harm. If anything, this turns me on, to be at their mercy like this, to be able to trust them not to hurt me.

At Grim’s club, my choice was taken away, but right here, right now, I want this.

My fingers curl around the rope as Zayn kisses me, his thigh grinding against my sensitive clit, setting me alight. “Zayn,” I mutter against his mouth. My husky voice, needy. I need him. I need them.

“Pen, fuck…” York cups my arse from behind, the rope loosening around my neck, more like a necklace than a noose. Grabbing my arm, he jerks me away from Zayn, twisting me around before lifting me off the floor and stepping backwards, the rope still dangling from my throat.

He kisses me again. Hard. His teeth clacking against mine, his hands cupping my face, his hard cock pressing against my stomach. I reach down between us, my hand rubbing York’s cock over the soft leather.

“Enough!”

I feel a sharp tug, and my eyes widen suddenly as my fingers fly to my throat. The rope tightens around my neck and I’m ripped away from York, only to stumble backwards into a hard chest. A firm arm wraps around my waist tightly.

“Stop this now!” Xeno growls into my ear, anger vibrating up through his body. But it isn’t just anger. I can feel his passion pressing against my lower back. He’s turned on and he fucking hates it.

“You want me,” I whisper, pushing him, testing his strength as I grind my arse back against him and push the rope off my neck. It falls to the floor at our feet.

“No!” he roars, pushing me away, ending the moment with anger and denial. If he meant to hurt me, he succeeded. Tears prick my eyes in humiliation as Zayn rushes forward, picking me up from the floor. He spins us around to face Xeno, rage suffusing his features. Fear spikes in my chest. Why did I push them? What have I done?

“Fuck you, Xeno. You prick! Man the fuck up and admit how you feel about Pen. Stop pushing her away when we all know you want her just as badly as the rest of us.”

“You’ve no fucking idea what you’re talking about, Zayn. Shut the fuck up!” he counters, his fingers curling into fists.

“No. I won’t. I’m calling this a motherfucking intervention of Breaker proportions. The time is now,” Zayn throws back.

“Zayn, don’t. Please. I don’t want this. I shouldn’t have—” I whisper. I don’t want anyone to be forced into admitting how they feel about me, good or bad, and by the look on Xeno’s face, it’s bad. Really, really bad.

But Zayn doesn’t seem to hear me. Instead, he turns me in his arms and clasps my face in his hands. His obsidian eyes gleaming with passion and determination. “If he isn’t man enough to say how he feels, then fuck him. I am.”

“Zayn—” I start, but he cuts me off.

“Three years ago you walked away with Jeb. You fucking broke my heart, Pen. I fell to pieces and Xeno, he held me together. He held us together. We vowed from that moment on, that no matter what, the Breakers would come first. Always. We vowed to look out for each other, protect each other. No matter what. But Xeno forgot one fundamental thing. We all forgot.”

“And what was that?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You, Pen. We forgot that you were a Breaker too. From the moment you stepped into the basement of Jackson Street, you became one of us. You became our beating fucking heart, and I refuse to let those two fuckers forget that,” he says, jabbing a finger at them both. “You were always ours, Pen. You were always mine, and I refuse to deny what my heart wants. I don’t give a fuck what’s at stake.”

Zayn doesn’t give me time to respond, he just crashes his mouth against mine and kisses me like a desperate man. He kisses me like the floodgates have been opened wide and the past three years of loss, hurt and anger are nothing but painful memories that no longer belong to us anymore.

Our kiss is interrupted by slow clapping. Zayn jerks away, leaving me breathless and wired. I have to blink back the fog of lust in order to concentrate on just keeping upright. This is all too fucking much.

“Nice speech, Zayn. Never thought you’d turn into such a pussy-whipped bitch.”

That’s all it takes to fan the flames of Zayn’s anger. He runs at Xeno, tackling him to the ground, his fists meeting Xeno’s face, the sound of his aggression echoing around the room. Xeno doesn’t fight back, he just fucking lies there and takes every punch to his head.

“Stop it!” I shout, launching myself at them, but York steps in my way and grasps me around the waist before I can break the fight up.

“No, Titch. Let them fight this out. It’s been a long time coming.”

I struggle against his hold, flinching with every punch that lands with a loud smack.

“Don’t fight over me!” I scream and Xeno snaps.

Roaring loudly, he flips Zayn over and straddles him, landing a hard punch against Zayn’s mouth that throws his head to the side and splits his lip. Blood spurts out from the cut, and I lose it completely.

“Stop!” I scream, but they don’t hear me. They don’t fucking hear me. York yanks me backwards, but still I struggle.

“This needs to happen, Titch.”

“No, York, it doesn’t. It doesn’t!” I turn to look at Dax who is watching the fight with a blank expression. “Please, Dax, stop this. Stop this insanity!”

Dax meets my gaze and grits his jaw.

Now I’m the one who snaps.

I scream.

Loudly. Piercingly.

I scream in frustration. I scream with every last bit of hurt. I scream until I’m fucking hoarse.

My fists beat at York’s arms and he holds me tighter. I don’t stop. I don’t hear the words York is saying in my ear. I hear nothing but the unravelling of my soul.

I let out all my anger. I let out every last drop of hate for Jeb and my brother for causing this, for leading us to this point. I scream and scream until finally my anguish gets their attention.

Xeno’s raised fist stops mid-air, as if his own rage has been tempered by mine. He snaps his head around, looking at me over his shoulder. A rivulet of blood runs down his temple and over his cheek from a split in his eyebrow as he breathes heavily. Beneath him, Zayn’s eyes widen with concern, his anger draining away with every second that passes. I sag in York’s hold.

“Stop it. Just stop it. I’m not worth this. I’m not worth it.”

I’m sobbing now, huge tears track down my cheeks and I can’t fucking stop them.

I can’t.

If this uncorking of my emotions makes me weak, then so fucking be it.

“Titch,” York laments, his arms easing from around my waist. I push his arms away, stumbling out of his hold.

“No. Enough,” I retort, backing away from him.

Zayn pushes Xeno off him and scrambles to his feet towards me. His shirt is ripped and blood runs over his teeth and chin from the split to his lip. “Pen, come here,” he begins, but I stumble backwards, holding my hands up.

“No. Don’t!” I swipe at my tears, trying to get my head together. “I can’t see you do this to each other. I can’t. I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry for hurting you all. I never meant for any of this. I never meant to break you like this.”

Behind Zayn, Xeno swipes at the blood trickling down his cheek. His shirt is torn, his hair a wild mess but it’s the emotion in his eyes and the words he speaks that cut me the deepest. “But you did break us,” he accuses softly. “You broke me.”

This time there’s no malice there, just the truth. Just the cold, hard, heart-breaking truth and just like in the cage at Grim’s, I’m forced to my knees with the weight of everything wrong between us and all that I want to fix.

“Kid…” Dax steps forward and I drag my gaze away from Xeno to him. His eyes soften as he crouches before me and swipes at my tears gently. “Get up, baby.”

“I need to tell you. I need to tell you why—”

“Not here. Not like this, Kid,” he says, cutting me off. “Get up. This isn’t you. This isn’t our girl. Stand up!” he demands, and I see the fierceness in his gaze, the love.

I see it. I feel it.

So I climb to my feet. I grit my jaw and force strength back into my heart.

“That’s my girl,” Dax says, wrapping his arm around my shoulders as he hauls me to his side before he glares at his bestfriends. “I should’ve trusted what’s left of my goddamn fucking heart, but instead I listened to you, Xeno. Not anymore. You three need to sort your goddamn shit out, and you, motherfucker,” he says, pointing at Xeno, “Need to take a long hard look at yourself. I’m done with this. Whatever happened, Kid doesn’t deserve to be on her knees for us, for any-fucking-one. I’m taking her home. Right the fuck now. Don’t come back until you’ve dealt with your shit!”

And just like when we were kids, Dax swoops in, protecting me once again.

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