19. Chapter 19
Chapter 19
Naomi
T here’s absolutely no such thing as silence when it comes to Axel. The most I’ve seen him be quiet is that first day I thought he was my Uber driver, and when he was upset and giving me space. So, I knew I couldn’t expect that the car ride back to the city wouldn’t be filled with a million questions. I caught him up on everything that unraveled moments earlier.
All the while, the farther we got from the estate, my body felt a growing gap. I tried to shoo the feelings away as nothing more than my overstimulated neurons, even though there was a gnawing part of me that knew that was a blatant lie.
“How are you feeling?” Axel looks at me with a worried expression. “This is all a lot to process.”
“Honestly, all I want to do is walk into my house, go straight to my bed, and call my sister.”
“That’s fair. But will you . . . do you think you’ll . . . visit?” he asks, trying his best to choose his words carefully.
I smile at this man who’s wormed his way into my heart with his boyish charm (even though he’s almost a decade older) and unrelenting humor. “I think I need some time to process this. It’s kind of a big shock that the man I wanted to chop into a million pieces didn’t actually kill my mom. But maybe someday we can go out for lunch . . .”
“And Kill — ”
“Quinnly, I think you’d get along, maybe she could come,” I cut him off, not ready to think about seeing Killian. Or even not seeing him. Either idea sounds daunting. Axel takes his eyes off the road to quickly look at me for a second, pursing his lips in understanding.
“I’d love that,” he says.
I can see him gnawing on his bottom lip, deep in thought. “What?”
“Can I be honest?” he asks.
I think about my response. While having some help in organizing my thoughts would be great, it’s also something I don’t know if I want to hear from him. “Depends,” I finally say.
He nods his head once. “Okay. I’m the last person to give love advice.”
My heart sinks. “I’m so sorry again for what I said.”
“I wasn’t fishing for another apology. We’re good,” he says, moving one of his hands to mine sitting in my lap.
“Okay,” I whisper as I put my other hand over his.
“What I was going to say is that I won’t give you advice, but I want to give my perspective as someone who cares about you both. In the end, it’ll be your decision what you do.”
“Like it was my decision to be kidnapped — ”
“I mean it technically was”— he chuckles— “we just didn’t know it.”
I laugh back, which feels light and nice. “Okay, go ahead.” Still listening to him, I look out the window, enjoying the familiar landscape back to home. It’s the little things you miss.
“Killian and you may have been born eight years apart on the opposite sides of NYC. But, you’re both cut from the same fucked-up bloody and tattered cloth, your parents yanked away at such a tender age in the most brutal ways.” No one can truly understand that pain except someone who’s gone through it. I never allowed myself to dream past my revenge. Even my success at the hospital was for cover. If I died during this mission, I would’ve been content, and died with a smile on my face as long as I got my revenge—killing the man responsible for taking my favorite person from me. But isn’t that comfort all anyone wants? To find someone who just fucking gets it? And Killian does. His blind rage made him choose the wrong guy, which led to three lives being lost. I almost made that same mistake with him.
“And instead of letting it tear you guys up, you fueled it to make you stronger. Albeit to become psychopaths cool with murder.” He looks at me again. “At least I assume murder for you considering I don’t know how else you would’ve gotten your revenge.”
I snort. “I’m pretty well versed in murder; mine’s just usually a bit quieter and more under the radar.”
“Pray tell! A fellow serial killer amongst us and we didn’t even know.”
“Yeah, it was actually a big part of my planning to find and trap you both. Anyway, that will be a conversation for a different day.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” He smiles warmly at me. “You both may have made harsh decisions, but it was in the name of love. Love for your mom . . . his parents . . . his love for you. And I don’t think that’s a bad thing, no matter the twisted web of crazy it came packaged in.” He eases on the brake as he gets to the street my shared home with Quinnly is on.
“I guess you’re right,” I say. There’s a twinge of fear in me, causing me to unbuckle my seatbelt at a slow pace. I know I can call Quinnly as soon as I get home, which is exactly what I’ll do. But I wish she was here and not on her crazy scratch-a-murder trip across the states.
“You gonna be okay?” I think I hear him ask, but it's muffled as I feel blood rush to my head. Or is it the lack of oxygen? My brain is shutting down. Is this a panic attack?
“What? No. Yes. What?” I stammer.
“Breathe, Belle, breathe,” he calmly says as his hands find mine. “I said that you are going to be okay. No matter what. Just breathe.”
I take a deep breath in through my nose and out through my mouth. “Yes, I will be.”
Axel hands me a card. “Call me if you need anything, I promise to come running.”
“Deal,” I say as I unlock the door. Part of me is brought back to the last time I was in this car and it was locked. Things are so different now, just a few short days later.
“See you soon, Belle,” he yells out as he closes the trunk, handing me a bag of my stuff, including my cell phone and purse. I walk down the path to get to the front door of the house, keys dangling from my hand. It’s time to face the music that is my new reality. A reality where I still don’t know who killed my mom. I failed her.
“What do I do, Quinn? Quinn!” I whine into the phone even though she’s distracted, cleaning the blood off her favorite scissors. “Quinnly!”
“Oh, sorry,” she says, bringing her attention back to me. “You said he was hot right?”
I roll my eyes at her. “Yes, woman, he’s hot. Your point?”
“And he didn’t kill your mother?” She’s waving around her scissors now like she’s trying to get to the point but I’m not answering fast enough.
“No, but now I need to figure out who — ”
She points them at me. “No! That has nothing to do with why you called me. That’s a problem for another day.”
“But I fucking masterminded”—she glares at me—“ we masterminded this whole plan to entrap him into falling for me. We made me into his dream woman. What if the real me is too far from the fantasy?”
She smiles at the acknowledgement with a little head nod. “ Thank you . And he fucking went and kidnapped you based on who you truly are as a person. Not the fake type-A bitch you pretend to be. But the straight up badass psychopathic bitch you truly are. You picked all the items we put on your board, you built that online presence. Just because your motive for creating the boards was fake, the person they portray isn’t.”
“Quinn — ”
“No more ‘Quinn this or that.’ Do you love your little psychopath or not?”
I stare at the phone for a long time before answering. My brain replays every conversation, every touch, the thought and attention to detail that he put into everything. I’m left with only one answer. “Yes.”
“Then what the fuck are you doing there? Go back,” she says like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
I dramatically fall back onto my bed, while still holding the phone. “Ugh. You never used to be this romantic. Fucking Lincoln.”
“What can I say? I found love in the shadows.” She chuckles at whatever joke she thinks she’s made.
“Um, happy for you . . . I think,” I say, smiling at her even though I’m confused. “When do you come back? I miss you.”
“I miss you, too, Mi. I’ll be back soon.”
“Cross off a few more states for me!” I chime in.
“Go get laid for me.” She sticks her tongue out. “I know I’ll be doing some of that myself.”
“In the shadows, I assume, since that’s where you found love?” I ask as I get up, grab my purse, and go get my car keys.
She looks at me astonished. “No! My God, the shadows will be in me. Duh!”
I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, but decide to roll with it. “Okay. Well I hope your ‘shadow daddy’ is great.”
“He is great!”
“Bye, Quinn. I love you.” I get into the car and take a deep breath. “Thank you.”
“Yeah, yeah, I love you too.”
I blast the radio and peel out of my driveway, racing to confess my feelings. Thankfully, I have Killian’s address memorized from when we were stalking him. The thought makes me start laughing hysterically in my car. Today has been a day from hell, and I’ve officially lost all my marbles.