Chapter Twenty Six
Axl
I flip through the news stations, still waiting. I’m still fully expecting some story about a dude claiming to have beaten up by a biker to show up. But nothing. Not yet. Still, I feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“You’re so tense,” Caitlin says, walking up behind me and rubbing my shoulders. We’d agreed I’ll stay another few days until I know she’s settled in. I’d told her I’ll visit. But she doesn’t know I swore to myself I’ll keep my damn hands to myself.
“The news sucks. Why are you watching the news?” she asks, reaching down over me to pick up the remote. I feel her breasts press to my shoulder and squeeze my eyes closed. Fucking hell. I don’t want to keep my damn hands to myself. I want her again now. I wanted her seconds after I came. I can’t fucking get enough of her.
The TV stations flip to the guide and we watch the scrolling text. I grab her arm and pull her around the chair and into my lap. She giggles and sits on me, her scent invading every breath as I inhale her.
Her hair tickles me as she shifts, changing the channel to something about a rare shrew in some remote African wilderness. She’s rapt on the program and I wrap my arms around her waist. Her hands find mine and she rests on me, still glued to the TV.
And I wish I could stay like this forever.
Her phone rings and she rises up off my lap. I watch her go, loving the cute little shorty shorts she’d picked up to feel more comfortable lounging around. Her short, curvy little legs still drive me wild; especially when I think about them wrapped around my hips as I plunge up into her wet, waiting pussy.
“Hi mom!” she says, tilting her head and glancing at me, her eyes dancing with joy. I mute the TV and wait for her to come back and warm my lap again. But her smile quickly dies and I feel a cold stone sink in my gut. “What? Slow down.”
My knuckles ache as I grip the edge of the chair. Her eyes meet mine again before darting away. “But… that doesn’t make sense.”
I hear her mother talking on the other end, but can’t make out the words.
“I’ve got to go,” she says to her mother, before a beep fills the silence of the room. The quiet is overwhelming. I can hear her take a deep breath. Hear the slight sound of her mouth opening before she speaks in a voice so quiet I almost miss it.
“Someone…” she hesitates, then clears her throat before trying again. “Someone beat up Carl.” She sits on the edge of the bed, drawing her legs up under her before stretching them out and meeting my gaze. I don’t flinch. I don’t look away.
But she does. Her lips part and she glances at the floor, then focuses on her hands as she picks at a hangnail. “He’s…” her voice is a whisper and she clears her throat again. “He’s under arrest. But someone roughed him up pretty bad. And his hand…” She trails off, looking up the wall, tears swimming in his eyes. Then her gaze meets me again and those tears roll down her cheeks.
“Someone cut up his hand.” Her eyes lower to my knuckles, then sweep back up to my face.
Still, I say nothing.
She tilts her head at me, her voice a low and dangerously close to tears. “You better tell me what happened.”
“I had to kick the shit out of someone,” I say calmly. The sound of his teeth snapping rings in my ears. And I feel clarity settling. A flash of the sensation of bones giving tickles my knuckles and I resist the urge to rub them. “He had it coming.”
She’s trembling. “When?” she asks, but we both know she knows.
“The day I left to help Dex with something.” There’s no point in lying now. Hell, this might work out after all. She’ll be so pissed and disgusted, she’ll push me out the damn door.
I see a twitch of anger in her face. “Did Dex know?”
“No. He knew something, knew your ex was looking for you. That’s it.”
“He covered for you.” Her voice is a hint of a whisper.
I nod. “I never left.”
Her eyes widen and I know the whole thing is blowing up in my face. And I throw gasoline on the fire. Rising up out of my chair, I walk over to her and lean in close, placing a hand on either side of her hips on the bed. She leans back a bit, her narrowed eyes focused on mine.
“I brought him to your door.”
I feel her trembling. Feel the anger vibrating off her. And I lean a little closer. “I told him I knew where you were. And I led him to you.”
She’s shaking her head slowly, like she doesn’t believe me.
“And after you told him off, I pulled him into another room.” Tears are fast filling her eyes as she studies me intently. I feel her holding her breath, feel her anger and hate. “I hit him. I hit him until I felt bones in his face shatter under my knuckles.”
I see her jolt. I smell the acrid fear rolling off her as she looks up at me like the monster I am.
“I hit him until his teeth snapped out of his head. I hit him until I knew he was afraid I’d kill him.”
She’s shrinking back, wilting like a plant.
But I’m not done. Leaning in a little closer, I feel the corners of my lips curl into an evil semblance of a grin. “Then I branded him.”
She’s lighting fast. I feel the pain before I realize she’d slapped me across the face. “How dare you try to intimidate me,” she says. “I’m not afraid of you.”
But she fucking should be.