Chapter 27 #2
It made me feel things I didn’t want to, made me feel like I was under a spotlight I wanted no part of. My throat ran dry.
“I’m going to grab some water,” I announced, pushing off the couch before anyone could read too much into my sudden need for hydration.
“You okay?” Faith appeared in the kitchen, moving with that silent grace of hers.
I smiled. “I’m fine. But it’s sweet of you to check.”
She walked over to the black roses and cocked her head at them. In a totally casual voice that didn’t hint at all that Axel and I might be in mortal danger, she asked, “How do you think they make them black? Some kind of dye?”
I blinked, and then I couldn’t help but smirk. “Really good question.”
“Can you even imagine?” She leaned against the counter.
“Some big, bad crime boss in a flower shop? Picking out roses? Like, do you think organized crime has their own preferred vendor? Maybe sometimes, they send black roses. Other times, they hide a dead fish inside a bouquet. You know, sleeping with the fishes and all that.”
I was genuinely smiling now. God, I appreciated her coming in here and trying to make me laugh. Everyone else was being so heavy about this.
“We should ask Ryker what other ‘flair for dramatics’ crime families used,” I said.
“Maybe a chalk outline outside your front door.”
“A box of snakes. Dyed black, of course.”
“Ooh, or maybe they send you a fake lottery ticket. Really mess with your emotions.”
I snorted. “A singing telegram, but it’s just someone dressed as the Grim Reaper.”
“They order you a pizza, but when you open the box, it’s just a photo of you sleeping.”
“Okay, that one’s actually terrifying.” I laughed.
Faith smirked. “They’re so dramatic though, right? Like, just send a text like normal people.”
I smiled wider and let a small silence pass. “Thank you for this. Everyone else is so freaked out. I needed to see the humor in it, or I’d explode. Not many people could pull that off.”
She shrugged. “I’m used to living under the threat of danger.”
I stilled. The casual way she said it, like discussing the weather, sent chills down my back. “What does that mean?”
Her gaze snapped to mine, widening when she realized I wasn’t taking this as casually as she’d intended.
“Oh, we’re not doing that.” She jumped up and sat on the counter, waving her hand dismissively.
“Doing what?”
“That thing where you might have just gotten an actual death threat from a crime family, and you’re turning it into worrying about me. I’m fine. Trust me, I’ve been dealing with darkness and skeletons since I was a little girl. I’m good.”
It broke my heart to think of all the darkness she must have endured.
I knew a little about her background from Blake.
How their parents died in a car accident when they were young, how she’d almost been killed by her foster father, and how they were separated in the foster system.
But I sensed there were even more layers of pain she kept buried deep.
Why did I get the impression that Faith was always scanning doors and windows, looking for signs of trouble? Always checking the shadows for threats?
“Look, I know we haven’t known each other long, but if you ever need anything …” I trailed off, letting the offer hang in the air.
Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. The urge to hug her and demand answers was so intense, it took everything I had to hold back. But I sensed that if I pushed too hard, she’d run.
Her body language screamed, Change the subject.
“Axel hasn’t taken his eyes off you,” she said, pretending our moment of vulnerability hadn’t happened.
I didn’t want to let her off the hook that easily, but I could see the walls slamming back into place. “He’s just worried.”
“Those weren’t worried eyes.” Faith’s tone turned knowing. “Those were more if anything happens to her, I’ll burn the world to the ground eyes.”
“You’re wrong. He still blames me for this whole PR mess. Probably blames me for this too.” I gestured toward the vase.
“Those are not blaming eyes. Those are protective eyes.”
I glanced into the living room and found that Axel was, in fact, looking at me with an intensity that made my stomach flip.
“I’m his best friend’s sister. He feels obligated to keep me safe. If he doesn’t, Knox will probably murder him when he gets out.”
I winced, realizing I’d said that so casually.
Faith’s head tilted. “Your brother really is in prison for murder?”
“He is.”
“Wrongfully imprisoned?”
I shook my head. “He pled guilty.”
“People plead guilty for all sorts of reasons,” she suggested.
“Well, in this case, he pled guilty because he did it,” I clarified. “This is the part where a lot of people get all self-righteous and awkwardly tiptoe out of the room. Won’t hold it against you if you do that.”
To my surprise, she raised an eyebrow like she was raising chips in a poker match.
“I was taken away from my brother when he killed someone right in front of me. Splattered brain matter on the wall and everything. And I appreciated it.” Holy shit.
“So, listen when I say, I’d never judge whatever your brother did because I learned at an early age, things are never black and white. ”
What the hell? Tessa had implied Faith and Blake had a traumatic past. But Jesus.
“Do you mind if I ask who he killed?” she asked too casually. I’d argue most people couldn’t pull off the who did your brother murder question with such normalcy.
I blinked, having to work hard to stop myself from asking a million questions. “Maybe someday, when this is all behind us, we can get into Knox’s whole story. But honestly, I don’t even know the whole story. He bottled up secrets and kept them locked away in that prison cell.”
“But you never turned your back on him.”
I chewed my thumbnail. “He’s family.”
Faith patted my arm with a clear change-of-subject tone. “Well, in any case, I don’t think Axel’s looking at you because you’re his best friend’s sister.”
My cheeks burned. “My ex-boyfriend wants me back,” I reminded her, as if saying it out loud would make her stop talking about Axel.
She paused. “Okay, but let me ask you this: is there any part of you that likes Axel?”
“He drives me crazy.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“He calls me Sunshine, and I don’t even know why.”
Her lips tilted up. “Have you asked him?”
“No, because I don’t care why he calls me Sunshine.”
Faith laughed. “Your body language disagrees with literally everything you just said.”
“My body language is naive.”
“Well, I guess that solves that then. My radar must be really off because when I’m around you two, I pick up all sorts of vibes.”
With that, Faith hopped down from the counter, patted my arm, and said, “You get any other creepy Mafia threats, send me a picture. We can make a scrapbook of them.”
Smiling, I watched her leave the kitchen.
Later, after everyone left, I retreated to my room with a book, trying to lose myself in someone else’s problems, but a soft knock interrupted my escape.
“Come in.”
Axel stood in the doorway, wearing light sweats hanging low on his hips and a white T-shirt that clung to the planes of his chest. His feet were bare, hair slightly mussed, like he’d been running his hands through it, maybe working up the courage to come to my room.
My ovaries took notice. Traitors.
“I’d like you to sleep in my bed.”
I blinked, certain I’d heard him wrong. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I just …” He scrubbed the side of his face. “I can’t sleep with you all the way across the hall. If someone broke into this penthouse …”
“This place is a fortress,” I reminded him.
“There’s no such thing, Sunshine. Someone with skills can get into anywhere.”
Well, let’s file that under Comforting Things That Will Cause Me Sleepless Nights in Perpetuity.
“I’m fine,” I said.
He didn’t budge. Instead, he swiped his thumb across his lower lip while I tried not to trace the movement, something coiling tight in my stomach.
Axel stepped into my room and sat on the edge of my makeshift bed.
“Okay, look. There’s a word I’m about to use, and I don’t use it very often. If ever.” He paused, then said it. “Please.”
Wow. Faith must have been right. You don’t worry about someone like this unless you care about them. I wasn’t expecting the swirls of light and heat stretching through my body at the thought of Axel Pierce liking me.
“You’re scared,” I realized.
“Those flowers concerned me.”
Maybe Faith was right. Maybe I was feeling something for Axel.
“I’m fine. Really.” I turned back to my book and flipped on the reading light. “If you wouldn’t mind getting the lights on your way out?”
Axel studied me for a long moment, and I could feel his gaze like a physical touch.
Eventually, he stood. But instead of leaving, he walked to the wall and flipped off the overhead lights, leaving only the soft glow of my bedside lamp.
Then he sank to the ground, his back against the wall.
“What are you doing?” I managed.
“You wanted the lights off.” His voice was rough, different. “But I’m not leaving.”
In the dim light, his eyes found mine. “Go to sleep, Sunshine. I’ll be right here.”
Oh, we’re definitely not sleeping now.
With all these confusing feelings circling around us, I officially wondered how in the world I was going to get through the next stage in our fake engagement: the dreaded get-to-know-you session.
You know, finding out everything about each other that couples are supposed to know, so we could pass any scrutiny with the dinner from hell coming up.
How was I supposed to reveal my deepest secrets to a man who already saw too much? And worse … how was I going to survive learning his?
Especially now that our lives literally depended on selling this love story.