There is no fucking in the shower when I wake. Hell, there isn’t even a Paige in bed with me when I wake. I know, I felt around for her when sleep started to retreat from my mind before I opened my eyes. My hand met cold sheets. Not cooled ones from someone who hasn’t been up for a little while, but from someone who hasn’t been in bed for hours.

I manage to roll over onto my back and sit up, the black and purple sheets pool around my trim waist as I wipe the sleep from my eyes. Sunlight is unforgiving to any hangover as it beats in through the crack in the curtains.

“Shit.” My voice breaks, completely dried out from dehydration and sleeping with my mouth open. I push my tongue to the roof of my mouth in an attempt to generate saliva to moisten it.

It doesn’t work.

“Paige?” Calling into the vast room doesn’t cause her to materialize. “Where the fuck is she?” Leaning back, I continue to rub my face. Sleep doesn’t want to leave me. I need to get a hot shower and something greasy in my gut to make me feel a fraction more human again.

Staggering to my feet, I make my way into Paige’s magnificent bathroom and get in the shower. Memories of the last time I was in this shower plague me as I quickly rinse off my body and hurry. I don’t want to stay in here any longer than I need to.

Unless Paige joins me.

And I don’t think that will be happening. Much to my dismay, I’m out of the shower, dried, and pulling my clothing from last night back on; Paige doesn’t make an appearance.

The hallways are a calm silence. It makes me chill and fear something happened to her. What if she got sick from all she drank and went to throw up in a different bathroom? There is still a large majority of this house I haven’t seen yet, but now isn’t the time to go exploring either. Even with a noble purpose to make sure she isn’t sick or lying in a pool of her own vomit, I’m going to stick to the places I know.

The kitchen.

The kitchen is a safe place. I can make us breakfast. If I can get something greasy going that should bring any hungover person in with the promise of relief.

It could be possible she is wherever Parker’s room is, checking on him or making sure his possible houseguest is out before she or multiple women make a scene.

Silently, I find everything I need to make a hangover cure breakfast and set to work at the stove. The bacon sizzles and cracks while I do my best not to break the yolks as I flip the eggs. I toast some bread to a golden brown as well.

I’m buttering them and getting ready to put the breakfast sandwiches together when I feel her. But the normally edgy feeling I get is brought in with a blast of an icy breeze.

“Morning.” Now that I’ve downed some water, it is much easier to talk. My normally deep timbre has returned with my vocal cords being lubricated.

“Morning.” The chipped, cold tone halts me from turning from my work.

“Did you sleep well?”

There is no reply, only a feeling of dread pooling low in my bowels. I finish the sandwiches. Picking up the plates, I finally turn to face her and nearly drop them.

Paige is leaning against the counter drinking from a hot cup of coffee. She is completely dressed and put together. Something I didn’t think I would see after how much she drank last night. Her hair is falling around her shoulders while her bangs add an evil halo to her brow line.

But what really stops me is the look in her eyes. I saw her closing off before but now, now I don’t know what to classify this as. It is almost a deadlock. As though nothing is going on behind their lenses; a look you see when someone has brain damage before their eyes are closed.

“Is everything all right?” I set the plates on the breakfast bar, but I’m unable to take a seat. My stomach needs the substance, but my mind isn’t allowing it. I know something is wrong.

She doesn’t say anything; only remains leaning in an impassive yet angry pose while her dead eyes watch me as I writhe under her hard stare.

“Paige?” I take a step around the counter to her. “What’s wrong?”

With a resigned sigh, Paige lowers her stare and shakes her head. “I can’t do this.” The same look comes back up to me. “I can’t do this with you anymore, Axle.”

“Can’t do what?”

“Play this, us being happy, that everything will end with a happily ever after. That shit isn’t me, Oz.”

“I don’t get it?”

“You need to get your shit and get out. My driver from last night will take you back to your apartment.” She doesn’t give me a single clue as to what is happening before she just turns and walks out.

The breakfast I made is completely forgotten when I take off after her. “Now wait a goddamn minute, Paige.” I grab her, stopping her from getting any farther away from me. “Where have you been? Why weren’t you in bed when I woke? And what the hell are you talking about?”

“It’s your fault!” She whips around, a fury of anger in my face. “You made me feel … things!” Her hands fly around frantically. “I was perfectly happy being numb, and you fucked everything up!”

“Wha—”

“I’m a fucked-up, broken woman you can’t change or save.” She spits the words out in my face. “You need to leave and pretend we never had anything.” Turning again, she rips her arm from my shocked grip. “You still have a job, just nothing else from me.”

I watch as she disappears. To where? I have no fucking clue. I don’t understand what just happened. We were just fine last night. More than fine, we were bloody fantastic!

For seconds, minutes, I don’t fucking know, I stand there with my mouth hanging open just staring before I finally get my shit together with the knowledge she isn’t going to come back. She doesn’t want to try to be happy? To be in love and let someone in? Then fine.

“Fuck her.” Only, I won’t anymore because my dark goddess no longer wants me. I storm out of the house, finding the limo from last night with an open door waiting for me. Slamming myself into the back seat, it takes off without my instructions on where to go.

“Fuck her,” I repeat. Paige went on about acting like a strong woman. Well, she isn’t. A strong woman would let love in and take the chance. She’s isn’t fucking strong at all, just a bloody coward who won’t let anyone into her fucked-up world.

Well, lucky for you, Paige, it can remain fucked up.

I fucking hate that the drive is so long. I have too much time to brew and let the anger fester inside me that by the time we get back to my flat, I need to beat the shit out of something. I’m not going to, though. I’ll have to handle this on my own. I could go to the gym and handle it there, but I just want to be around people who actually give a fuck about me.

Yeah, I’m moping and being a bitch.

Deal with it; my heart is fucking broken.

I get to the door and stop with my key in the lock when moaning and slapping screams come through the thin wood.

“JAX!”

“Fucking bonzer.”

Well, there goes my plan to go to my room and chill out my anger and then convince Jax to play some bloody game. Len is in there more than likely riding him like a jockey at the Kentucky Derby.

“Yeah, not fucking happening.” From her screaming, I chance to say they aren’t in his room but in the lounge. That is something I don’t want to see.

“Levi’s then.” I can hang out on his back porch and drown in more booze. But on the way to my truck, I try to call him and there is no answer. It doesn’t even ring, just goes to his voicemail. “Trophy girls.”

Grumbling to myself, I get in my truck. There is one person I can go to right now. I know Megan will be willing to let me fester and get angry. I take off to her flat and am glad when I see her car in her parking space.

I still have a key from when we started fucking around. I never gave it back to her because she has a tendency to lock herself out, and her landlord never answers her calls. I do try to knock, but there is no answer. She must have drunk her weight in alcohol last night and is still passed out. I let myself in and drop my keys when I hear moaning coming from her room.

“Shit.” Kicking off my shoes, I rush back to her room to make sure she isn’t in need of help or dying. Her bedroom is wide open when I skid to a stop and nearly lose my jaw as it hits the ground.

“Oh! Oh! Haaarrrrddddeeeerrrrr!” Holy fucking mother of cunt fuckers. Megan’s snowy body moves at a rapid rate over another body.

Shit.

I really don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I need to walk away, leave the house, and drive away. The gym would have been the safer route to go, but I’m a stupid fucker. I can’t see the man’s face, and they are completely unaware of me standing there. I can leave, and they will be none the wiser.

“I’m coming!” she cries as a tanned hand slaps down on her arse cheek.

That’s what it takes for me to back away and retreat. At the door, I grab my keys and open it to leave when she screams out the name that chills me with a white-hot rage.

“PARKER!”

No fucking way.

I rush out of her flat, leaving them crying out their releases. I lock myself in my truck and finally lose my shit. I fucked up myself and my life once more all because I fucked my boss.

Again.