Chapter 6
Axel
I linger outside Johnny’s building. Sorry, Jonathan’s building. Apparently, he’s too good for his childhood nickname now. Pretentious prick.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to force a better attitude. Dealing with Johnny on a good day is draining. On a bad one? It’s hell. But I need to talk to him.
One last glance up at the glittering rows of glass windows, then, I square my shoulders and walk in.
The doorman greets me like he’s never seen me before. “Name and ID, please.”
I’ve been here a hundred times, but this guy still acts like I’m delivering pizzas instead of visiting my brother. My foot taps while he checks the log.
“Ah, yes. Mr. Harrington, here you are.”
“There I am!” I exclaim with fake cheer. “Just like every other damn time,” I mutter, quieter.
He hands back my ID with a barely concealed scowl and escorts me to the elevator, inserting a key before pressing the button labeled PH. Penthouse. Personally, I like to pretend it stands for Penis Head.
As the elevator climbs, I lean back against the mirrored wall, arms crossed.
Johnny lives in the kind of penthouse that screams wealthy, dangerous, and vaguely illegal.
I don’t know the exact details of what he does for money, but I know it involves killing people.
We’ve argued about it plenty. These days, I just keep my mouth shut and pretend like the blood money doesn’t reek.
The elevator finally dings open, and there he is. Waiting. Arms crossed. Brow furrowed.
“What do you want, Axel?”
Classic, warm welcome.
I stroll in, hands in my pockets. “Great to see you too, brother. How’s the murder business? Treating you well?”
Johnny growls low in his throat.
“What. Do. You. Want?” he repeats, slow and clipped.
I ignore him.
“Love what you’ve done with the place. Are the drapes new? I could’ve sworn you had satin last time, but this silk is just—”
“Axel!” he barks.
“Yes, Johnny?” I make sure to stress the name. His eye twitches. Good.
“What did I do to deserve this?” He sighs and looks up.
“Well, for starters, Satan can’t hear you if you’re talking to the ceiling.”
He glares, unamused.
I sigh and drop the act. “I need to talk to you.”
“So? Text. Email. Carrier pigeon. Take your pick.”
“Call me stupid, but I missed you. Clearly, this was a mistake. Next time I’ll send a fucking scroll.”
I turn toward the elevator, counting down in my head.
In three… two… one…
“Damn it, Axel. Wait.”
I pause. Not smiling takes effort.
“If you can stop being a pain in my ass, come back inside.”
I swing back around, clapping him on the back as I walk on by. “No promises.”
He pivots in his genuine Italian loafers, taking the lead. I trail behind in scuffed Converses.
Something in Johnny broke the day our mom died. Like he flipped a switch and never looked back. The guy who used to sneak me Oreos and watch dumb cartoons is gone. What’s left is... colder. Sharper. Cruel, even.
He leads me through his villain lair to his office. The space looks eerily similar to Ben’s setup. I wonder if it’s intentional. A subconscious shrine to a man he used to worship and now resents.
He sits behind a massive mahogany desk and gestures at the chair opposite him. I sprawl into the chair and sling an ankle over my knee. His lip curls in distaste. I don’t comment.
He steeples his fingers. “Now, what do you want?”
I glance at the paperwork scattered across his desk in no hurry to give him what he wants. My eyes catch on the red of a photograph before realizing I’m looking at evidence of a dead man. He sweeps it under a folder before I can get a closer look.
Right. Time to get to the point.
“I need your help. Nik and I do.”
He drums his fingers against the desk. “And why would I help you?”
This time, I can’t stop my eyeroll. Of course. Nothing with Johnny is free. Everything is a transaction.
“Because there’s something in it for you, too.”
The drumming stops.
“Oh?” His greenish eyes narrow, sharp and curious.
Against his dark hair and chiseled cheekbones, the color glows.
He’s always been the more striking of us.
While I pride myself on my typical boy-next-door looks and charm, Johnny exudes danger.
His features are sharper and he carries himself with an air of superiority and fearlessness.
He makes crazy women swoon and normal men shit their pants.
“Explain.”
I have him. Now, I just have to reel him in without snapping the line.
“You have access to resources we need. Hear me out before you say no. That’s all I’m asking.” I take a breath. “We’re looking for Lina.”
His answer is so quiet I almost miss it.
“No.”
I blink. “What?”
“No.”
“But—”
“The answer is no. If that’s all, I have other pressing matters.”
I stare at him, stunned. “Why?”
He sighs like I’m a child asking for another bedtime story.
“Lina left, Axel. She left you. If she wanted to be here, she would be. When are you going to grow up and let this go?”
“She left because she had to, not because she wanted to.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
I stare at him, and for the first time, I’m not sure there’s even a shred of the man I once looked up to left in there.
“She loved you too, you know,” I say, voice quiet.
He laughs. It’s cold and humorless.
“She didn’t, but I’m fine with that. I’ve accepted it. You should, too. Some things need to stay buried.”
Realizing I’ve lost this round, I rise from the chair and head to the door, but I just can’t help myself. I need the last word.
“She was yours, Johnny. We know it. You know it. We were just too selfish to let her go.”
I pause in the doorway and toss the final knife over my shoulder.
“Bad men love to own and break beautiful things,” I say, voice calm. “No one taught me that better than you.”
I knock once on the doorframe and walk out, leaving only silence behind.