CHAPTER 11
Izzy
If I could stay inside this lush bathroom all night, I would. My heart feels like it’s been torn from my body and trampled on. Gutted, completely gutted. It was hard enough to live through those years with Brandon, but I did and I have worked so hard to move on. Rehashing that with the one person who has always held my heart, the one person I thought was gone forever? The pain is unfathomable. Never in my wildest dreams did I believe Axel would be back in my life.
The severe torment of just knowing he has always been very much alive is what is weighing on me the hardest right now. I keep running through my head all the things I needed him by my side for. All the things I was forced to deal with alone.
When he asked me about the picture, my heart stopped. Right there in the middle of his room, it just stopped. I’m not under the delusion that Axel is back and mine. Oh, that ship has sailed. I held on to the smallest hope that he was out there somewhere, but I can’t ignore the fact that he left me. He left me, and when he did that, he left his baby—the baby that I wasn’t able to protect. Of course Brandon would know how hard that was for me. Not that he ever was willing to share me with any child we would have created, but he knew why I had so readily agreed never to have children. My baby is gone, just like its father, and that is something I will never share with him. He doesn’t deserve to know, and if I’m honest with myself, I doubt he will care. After all, if he could so easily leave the person he professed to love so deeply, a child wouldn’t change anything.
I make quick use of his bathroom. I take a brief shower, wincing when the hot water rolls over my sore nipples. I dry off quickly and pull on the soft tee that smells like Axel; it hits me all the way to my knees. Jesus, he wasn’t this large when we were kids. He was tall but never so . . . solid. I don’t even bother with the briefs. What’s the point when I am already swimming in his tee? Running my fingers through my hair, I do a quick scan of his counter, look in some drawers, and hope for an extra toothbrush. Negative. Isn’t that just wonderful. Fuck it. That asshole wants me here, might as well use his shit. After I finish brushing and giving myself one hell of a ‘stay strong’ mental lecture, out I walk.
Shit . . . shit, fuck.
There he is. Walking back into the room, all large and mouthwatering. I want to leave, run, and never look back.
“Which side?” The slight wobble in my voice is hardly noticeable, and I am mentally cheering myself for keeping such a brave face.
“Don’t care. A bed’s a bed.” And with that, he walks into the bathroom and shuts the door.
Well—I guess that’s that then.
Walking over to the side farthest away from the bathroom door, I make quick work snapping the lights off, and diving into the sheets, and burrowing down. Naturally, my luck would be to pick the side he must sleep on. I feel like I have dived into an Axel-scented cloud.
With just the hint of his scent, I can feel the memories slamming back, fast and fierce. Biting my lip as hard as I can without drawing blood, I squeeze my eyes shut, running through every single mental exercise I know to try and jump this massive hurdle.
The past can’t touch me.
I am stronger than this.
I am a survivor.
Fuck you, fate . . . Fuck you hard.
After a few minutes of listening to the shower and my inner chants, the stress of the week and the events of the day finally drag me under. Not long after that, the bed dips, and in my dreams, I smile, because I hear a soft whisper. “Missed you . . . so fucking much, Princess.” Sometimes, dreams don’t let you down because that is the only thing I have been waiting to hear since the day he left me forever. In my dreams, all my problems melt away, because I am safe. Safe and back in Axel’s arms.
Axel
I walk out of the bathroom—after spending a fucking stupid amount of time in the shower taking care of the problem Izzy has stirred up—and just stand there, water still dripping down my chest, disappearing when it reaches the towel tightly knotted around my waist.
Izzy is back in my bed. Fuck me. A weight that has been sitting solid on my shoulders for way too long lightens up. Not by much but damn, anything is a relief. I should have known if she ever walked back into my life that I wouldn’t be able to hold on to all of my anger.
I walk around my side of the bed to get a closer look at the tiny ball under my sheets. And there it is—that face that can bring me to my knees. She looks so peaceful in her sleep, her hands folded under her cheek and her hair fanned out against my pillow. Like an angel, my Princess.
We have missed so much, wasted so much time. Even though I know how much we still have to work out, including the small detail of reminding her she is mine, I still can’t fight the instantaneous contentment that washes over me.
I feel whole again.
I know better than to hope but I can’t help the thought that I would stop anything from taking her from me again.
Walking back over to the other side, I drop the towel and climb in. She makes a small whimper in her sleep that has me throwing caution to the wind and shifting to wrap her in my arms.
“Missed you . . . so fucking much, Princess.”
And with Izzy back in my arms, pressed tight with no gap between our bodies, I finally find sleep.
Izzy
The first thing I notice when I start to wake up the next morning is how unbelievably warm I am. Finally, Dee is listening to me when I tell her we can’t keep bumping the AC down to artic temps. I nestle in, wiggling and trying to find that perfect spot that will take me back to the blissful sleep I was just in. That wiggle is all it takes for me to become wide awake and all that warmth to wash away, leaving me frozen solid.
There is a large hand covering my very tender breast and soft breathing tickling my neck. That warmth I was loving a second ago is kicking my ass, almost quite literally. I can feel the solid, very naked wall of muscle and strength against my back, fitting like a glove tight against my body. I try to pull my legs up but they are tangled with larger hairy ones. The biggest—and I mean biggest—issue I seem to have right now is the large erection poking me, settled right against my pussy. And all that wiggling, all that searching I was doing for the warmth in my sleep? All that did was cause me to drip with desire.
Cracking one eye open, I take in the room. My trip around the large master starts with one tall dresser and ends with a pile of laundry on the floor next to it. Other than that, empty. Looking down at the offending arm that holds me tight to its owner’s body, I try to think of a way out of this hold. He has his arm snaked up my shirt, cupping my breast tightly like it’s his anchor. Shifting, I try to dislodge him naturally but all I get is a tightening of his hand and arm and pressure pulling me even snugger against his body.
Blast my stupid hormones. His rock-hard erection just jutted even deeper between my legs, hitting my clit with a sharp jab.
I suck in a sharp breath of pure pleasure.
Oh my God. I need to get him away from me.
I slam my elbow back, earning a grunt and more tightening.
Shit! Just my luck. My body is telling me to start humping, my heart is telling me to run, and my mind is sitting there enjoying a cigarette as his hips start to move against me.
“Axel Reid, you wake up right now!” I yell. “Get your paws off my tit and call your dick off its search for my pussy. He found it, asshole. Now back off.”
“Urmmpf . . .”
That’s all I get. Nothing. He pulls me back again. Only this time, I have the added bonus of some whiskers against my neck and some humming. If he has a wet dream against my body, I might kill him.
“AXEL!”
“Shut up, Izzy. I’m trying to enjoy this.” Wide awake. That jackass is wide awake, not even a small sliver of sleep left in his voice.
I move to pull away, grinding my hips against his dick again, not even able to keep the moan silent. Finally, after a small struggle to detangle my legs and push his arm away, I am free. I scoot all the way over to the edge and jump off the bed. I turn, ready to ream him a new one, but stop dead. Mouth drops and I am drooling, I’m sure of it.
Perfection. He’s lying against his stark white sheets, all large and solid. He has one thick arm thrown over his eyes and one resting against his perfectly sculpted abdomen. Both of his arms are sporting some thick tribal tattoo that wrap around both shoulders and around the front of his chest. He has a large angel against his side with her hands brought forward in prayer and her wings wrapping around to his back. I can’t see her face clearly, but from here I can tell it is a beautiful piece. My eyes travel down and see some more ink disappearing under the sheet riding low on his hips. The thin sheet is doing nothing to hide the tenting from his erection. Long, solid, strong, and very aroused.
He moves his arms and his bright emerald eyes meet my startled ones. I do one more sweep of his body before looking back and meeting his questioning look.
“Holy shit, what happened to you?” I praise. At least it should have sounded like a praise, but it came out more like a weak whimper.
He gives a soft laugh, which just makes all those lickable muscles clench. I want to lick them so badly. “You talking about the ink or the body? Hit a growth spell, grew a little. Work out hard. My body is my protection so I can’t slack. Nothing much has changed.”
He has got to be joking, “Nothing much has changed?” I echo him. “You look like you gained fifty or more pounds of solid muscle, maybe a few inches, because I do not remember you looking like that. And yeah, well . . . the tattoos are definitely new.”
“Things change when you go from a kid to a man, Izzy. I’m still me.”
“I don’t know about that. And you’re right. Things change. You might be you, but I am damn sure not the me I was.” I dig deep to collect my thoughts—and my brain off the floor. “I don’t have anything to wear and I would like to get ready to go home now.” There, that should close the conversation up real quick.
“Yeah, avoid. Got it. Dresser—grab some sweats and a new tee. I’ll meet you downstairs.” He is so quick that I don’t have a second to turn as he whips the sheet off, displaying his body completely and rendering me even more speechless.
Not much changed, my ass. Looks like his few inches weren’t just in his height. With heavy steps and a tense body, he walks into his closet and slams the door. I run to the dresser and then enter the bathroom to get dressed.
Thirty minutes later, I make my way down the long hall and stairs, searching for the kitchen. It shouldn’t be too difficult, but this house is huge, and judging by the smells, breakfast is cooking. I make a few wrong turns and only find more empty space. He must have just moved in last weekend; there is absolutely nothing here.
Rounding the corner, I finally walk into the kitchen. Axel is standing next to the island stove flipping some bacon. The eggs are already dished off to the side and some orange juice fills in a cup next to the stool.
“Sit and eat. Greg and the gang should be here within the hour.” He leaves no room for argument, just gives me a cold stare and throws some bacon on my plate before fixing himself some food, and leaning his hip against the island, and digging in.
We sit like that, in silence, while we finish up. He doesn’t even look at me. Not one time does he even glance my way. I should be comforted by this but I would be lying if I said it doesn’t bother me that he is able to turn everything off. Try as I might, having him this close to me again is messing with my mind. I just want to run into his arms and let everything just wash away, forget the world.
Clearing my throat, I break the silence. “So, what happens now? I would really like to go home.”
“Told you last night, we would discuss where to go with everyone else. You will go home when we figure out what happens next. Don’t take this lightly, Iz. We might not know why he sent that, but it was for a reason. My job is to find out why and what kind of threat, if any, it holds on you.”
“Hmph . . .” I’m beyond frustrated. All I want to do is go home and hide from my problems—and from Axel. The last thing I want is for him to be a permanent fixture in my life. I just have to hope Greg and Dee can keep quiet about everything else they know that Axel doesn’t.
I am still silently stressing over what would happen if Axel finds out everything else when a door slams and heavy steps echo throughout the house. If Axel’s relaxed body language hadn’t stayed the same, I might be concerned. This must be the cavalry arriving.
“Yo, Reid. Where you at?” voice one booms through the house.
“I’m fucking starved, Coop. Reid better have some food this time,” voice two says.
“Too early for this shit. My head is still swimming from being up all night buried balls deep in Jasmine. Or was it Jane? Judy?” voice three grumbles.
“Shut up, asshole.” Greg—I’d know that voice anywhere. I look up when Axel slams his plate into the sink and gives a hard look to the open doorway.
It is the soft giggling after Greg’s voice that has me snapping my head up and staring right along with him. Dee? What is she doing here?
Dee pushes through first and immediately rushes over to wrap her slim arms around me. “You okay?”
“I will be. I just want to leave.”
“Soon, Iz. You have to trust these guys. I know that won’t be easy but they know what they’re doing,” she whispers in my ear.
“How are you even here? Didn’t Greg take you home last night?”
She pulls back and looks away, but not before I catch the blush that dances across her skin. What the hell is that about?
“You two done with your female shit? We need to talk.”
I look up to Axel’s stormy green eyes and frown. “Remember this little tea party was your idea. Don’t get a stick up your ass because you got your demands answered.”
The group behind me lets out a few manly grunts, either in humor or shock that I would snap at the bear. I look over at this testosterone-driven group, avoiding Greg’s face but not missing the small upturn of his lips. Coop and Beck are doing their best to not laugh while Locke looks like he has better things to do, but I don’t miss the mirth dancing in his dark eyes.
“Shut up, Izzy. This isn’t a fucking game. Locke, you find out where the ex is?”
“Yeah, California, business convention or some shit. The chippie secretary told me he left out Wednesday afternoon with his new girlfriend. Doesn’t seem to have a care in the world.”
“What?” I ask, “Really, he can’t sign the divorce papers but he can keep his bed warm?” No one answers me, but then again, an answer isn’t really needed.
“Coop, background check back?” Axel continues.
“Clean. Few parking tickets but nothing serious. Looks like he had some issues with fighting in high school but wasn’t anything past college. Credit card debt sitting at a nice 65K.” He looks over at me with sympathy before continuing. “Escorts, there was some small gambling, but most of it is racked up in escorts and some local strip joints.”
That throws me for a loop. As much of an asshole Brandon was, he was always there and always controlling. How did I not even know about this side of him?
“Beck, anything?” Axel asks, his tone harsher than before.
“Not much. Talked to a few people who will do more digging for me locally. If it’s there, I will find it.”
What? “What are you talking about?” I direct my question to Beck, figuring my luck for an answer would be better with him.
“Nothing, sugar. Nothing for you to worry about.” He has a smile on his face, but it isn’t masking the seriousness in his posture.
“Ah, no. This is my life and I don’t want to be kept in the dark. Do not expect me to be okay with you just brushing me off.” My temper is starting to rise, and even though I know these men mean well, I can’t stand not knowing and not having just a little control.
“Izzy, look at me,” Axel says. “Trust me to take care of this and not burden you with the unnecessary issues. I promise not to keep important information from you.”
“NO, Axel. You want me to just let you play this white knight role with no issues? What the fuck ever. Too late for that shit. The only reason I’m here right now is because YOU wouldn’t take me home last night. I’m not stupid, and I recognize that you are the best to figure out this situation, but I won’t go at it blind. Every damn step, I want to know everything or I will go at it alone.” I’m right up in his space, jamming my finger in his chest with as much strength as I can throw into that small jab.
Rubbing his chest and stepping away, he says, “Jesus Christ, you are a pain in my ass. Beck is checking with some local cops to see what they know about Brandon. Nothing for you to worry about. Pulling a few favors and asking some locals to keep an eye on his goings.”
“And what are you expecting to find?” I ask, not sure I like where this is going.
“Not sure yet. With the money and the women, my guess would be drugs or at least something like that. I want every play I have in my hands before I go chat with this fucker.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Why would you go talk to him?”
Dee reaches over and grabs my hand. For the first time since this conversation started, I remember she is there.
“You want a divorce and you want him to leave you alone, right?” he asks.
“I think that would be pretty obvious.”
“Well, I talk and get you your divorce and also ensure he leaves you alone. Pretty simple.”
“I don’t think so. I go through my lawyers for that, not you.” The last thing I want is for Brandon and Axel to be around each other. I had a few pictures of Axel when Brandon and I first started dating. He might look different now, but it wouldn’t take Brandon much to realize who he was, and that would not end well.
“We’ll see, Izzy. Leave it alone for now.” He gives me another hard look before brushing me off and looking back over to the group standing in the kitchen. “Greg, tell me about the set-up at her house.”
“Full system with every upgrade. There is no getting into her house without her wanting you there . . . when she sets the damn thing.” The last part is said with its usual frustration over me never remembering to set the alarm when I am home.
“Damn it, look at me, Izzy.” I look back into his eyes. “I’m going to let that slide, for now, and only because this shit just started, but from now on, you set it. When you leave, when you come, when you are there, it is fully armed. No questions.”
“Whatever . . .” I mumble. I know he’s right. Doesn’t mean I have to be nice about it.
The conversation continues around me. Axel dishes out more duties and they talk about the next step in getting Brandon out of my life. It seems to be agreed upon that I need to push stronger on the divorce and see if that can’t end the connection. I have been pushing as strongly as I can, so that gets tossed out quickly. Finally, Axel says that someone needs to personally go talk to Brandon about signing.
“No, not happening,” I say, cutting off Beck, who is about to reply to Axel. “Let the lawyers handle this. I’m not asking for anything. The only thing I need is for him to sign.”
“Baby girl, he hasn’t signed in six months. What makes you think he will just automatically wake up in the morning and sign?” Greg asks.
“Shut up, Greg,” I spit back at him.
He flinches but recovers quickly.
“I’m serious, Axel. You are not going to talk to him.” I hold his eyes until he breaks contact and looks over at Maddox.
“Fine,” he spits out before looking over at Maddox. “Book a flight and go visit this asshole. Get the fucking signature. Whatever you need to do, and take Coop with you.” He looks back at me and, with an arrogant tone, asks, “Is that okay with you, Princess?”
“I hate you,” I spit back at him, earning me a laugh.
God, this is going to be a nightmare.
I look over at Dee and motion her over. Time to find out why she is here.
“Well . . . spill,” I whisper in her ear.
“Nothing to spill,” she says with a bright blush sparkling her cheeks. “Beck and I had some fun last night. No big deal.”
I knew it! “Oh, we will be talking about this later. I can’t believe you, Dee! Do you even know anything about him?”
“Come on, Iz. It was just some fun—not going to happen again. He is one of those anti-relationship men. Fine by me. I was just looking to let out some stress anyway. And you need to let up on these guys. They aren’t the enemy, Izzy. Please let them do their jobs.” She lets out a huff of exasperation before walking back over to the group and throwing in some suggestions.
What in the hell is going on?