Chapter 42 #2
She advances again, voice rising. “Nine fucking days, Axel. I lost you. I thought you were gone, and when you finally woke up—” She chokes on the words. “You shut me out. You left me without a goddamn word. Without a chance to fight for us.”
Her pain is a live wire, and it lights me up from the inside. I shoot to my feet, matching her step for step until her back hits the wall. I tower over her, chest heaving, vision burning red.
“You think I don’t want you?” I growl, my voice low and vicious.
I slam my hand against the wall beside her head. She flinches but doesn’t back down, not really. Her body’s trembling. Her lips part, breath hitching. I lean in, forehead nearly brushing hers, eyes locked.
“There’s nothing I want more,” I confess, voice breaking. “You are all I fucking think about. Every second I’ve spent without you has been hell.”
She stares up at me, the space between us electric. And all I can think is—if I kiss her now, I’ll never let her go again.
Our chests rise and fall in uneven rhythm, breathless and burning. Heat pulses between us as her soft exhale ghosts over my skin.
“I’ve been living in the dark,” I murmur against her neck, my lips brushing the curve of it as I inhale the scent of her—coconut, cocoa, and something entirely her .
“But you… you’re a fucking beacon, Cassie.
So bright. So precious. I just want to hold on to that light. I don’t ever want to lose it.”
My knuckles skim along her jaw, and when she finally lifts her gaze, I see tears glittering in her eyes. It guts me. Still, I press on.
“Together or not… I can’t lose that light.” The words fall softly against her lips, too close to a prayer .
Her voice is barely audible, a whisper I almost miss. “Then don’t let go.” She presses our foreheads together, her fingers slipping into my hair. “Come out of the darkness.”
That’s all it takes. My mouth finds hers in an instant.
She cups my cheeks, drawing me into her like I’m something sacred. The zing of that first touch sparks through every nerve in my body. I forgot how this felt. How she felt. I could punch myself for ever letting this slip away.
Our lips meet and part in a rhythm that builds, deeper, hungrier. My tongue glides along the seam of her lips and she opens for me, welcoming me home.
This— this —is what right feels like.
She tugs at the back of my neck, the other hand clawing gently over my shoulder and into my back, dragging me flush against her. Her nails bite through my shirt, and it’s not pain I feel. It’s life. Her body presses against mine, soft and warm and everything I’ve been trying to deny myself.
A whimper leaves her throat, part moan, part relief, and I lose what little restraint I had left. My hands roam, greedy for her, for every curve, every inch of her skin. I was an idiot. A coward. My own twisted sense of morality stood in the way of what I want most.
Fuck my morals.
I lift her effortlessly, pain flaring in my stomach, but I grit through it. She wraps her legs around me like second nature.
“Axel…” she breathes against my jaw, voice thick with longing.
But I don’t stop. My lips trail to the soft spot below her earlobe. I suck, nip, mark her like it’s the only language I still speak.
“Axel,” she says again, firmer this time, her palm pressing to my chest.
I pause.
Our eyes lock, and for a moment, everything stills. Her pain is right there, naked in her gaze. The grief. The heartbreak. The weight of everything I did wrong.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, kissing the corner of her mouth. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
The apology tastes like blood on my tongue—not because it’s hard to say, but because it means owning just how much I’ve hurt her. And that… that’s unbearable.
She shakes her head and pushes gently against me. I lower her back to the floor, reluctant to let go. My arm snakes around her waist, needing the contact, even if I know we’re not finished.
“Stay,” I plead, brushing a strand of gold behind her ear.
“I’m not going to do that.” Her gaze drops to my stomach. She grazes her fingers over the stitches, soft and full of care. “You need rest.”
“I need you,” I murmur, smirking slightly as I grind my growing need against her stomach.
She slaps my chest, light but pointed, a small smile playing on her lips. “Not tonight, Axel. Not until you come out of here .” Her finger taps my temple.
She’s right. God, I hate that she’s right. Sex won’t chase away the demons in my head. It won’t fix the guilt, the fear, the darkness. That’s my fight.
“Until then,” I say, echoing her words with a smirk, already knowing what I have to do.
“Until then.” Her lips find mine again—soft, slow, lingering. And then she’s gone.
At the doorway, she glances back, a coy smile dancing on her lips. I’m already counting down the seconds until I get to kiss them again. Everything feels easier with her—lighter.
So why the hell does it feel so hard to just take those first steps out of the dark?
The door clicks shut behind her. Silence settles in again. The darkness presses in like it always does.
But this time, something’s changed .
This time, she’s shown me a way through it. She didn’t pull me out. She handed me the flashlight and dared me to follow.
And I will.
I make a mental note: punch Trigger for dragging her here… and thank the bastard right after.
Because she’s back.