Chapter 45
Chapter Forty-Five
I stare at my face in the mirror, barely recognizing the reflection that looks back. The bruising on my cheek blooms like ink beneath fragile skin, and the cuts on my knees are raw reminders of how serious last night was. I look exactly how I feel; battered, hollowed out and needing sleep.
But I won’t let that break me. Not outwardly, anyway. Keeping my chin up is the only armor I have left. If I let it slip, if I crack even a little, I know I’ll fall apart completely. Beneath the surface, I’m already unraveling. I feel adrift, lost in the wreckage of something I never saw coming.
I hadn’t realized how much pain I’d endured until I woke up this morning and every bone in my body was screaming.
Not even the fury I harbor for Axel manages to eclipse the sheer agony burning through every nerve in my face.
Every grimace, every twitch, every attempted smile feels like a blade twisting under my skin.
A deep gash splits my bottom lip from where Daniels’ right hook landed.
My cheek is tender, but the worst of it—the part that turns my stomach—is the distinct handprint smeared like a violent signature across my neck.
It’s visible. Unavoidable. The kind of mark that demands questions, assumptions.
And it’s only a matter of time before someone points fingers in the wrong direction.
But I know better. Axel couldn’t have seen it coming. Aiden was after him , not me. None of us could have predicted what would happen.
The sharp slam of the front door jars me and I pull myself away from the bathroom mirror. The walls tremble slightly from the force, and the sound drags my heart into my throat. Heavy boots stomp across the floor.
Lexie . I’d know her walk anywhere.
Panic prickles in my chest. I twist the faucet shut with trembling fingers. My mind is still spinning, a tug-of-war between rage and numbness. I don’t know which will win out. Will I explode? Or will I sink back into myself?
“Cass?” Lexie’s voice cuts through the whirlwind. Her usual cheerfulness clashes hard against the storm in my head.
“In here,” I answer, forcing calm into my tone, but I don’t turn from the mirror. Not yet. I need another second to brace myself.
With a final breath, I walk out into the hallway and meet the hurricane head-on.
“Cass, I?—”
She stops mid-step. Her eyes widen, mouth parting in stunned silence as she takes me in. I freeze under her stare. Her gaze doesn’t waver, doesn’t blink. Her stillness is more terrifying than any outburst.
“What the fuck!” she barks, closing the distance fast. Her hands grip my face, not gently. “Who did this? Did Ax?—”
“No!” I recoil, peeling her hands away. “It wasn’t Axel.”
“I swear to God,” she hisses through clenched teeth, “if he touched you?—”
“It wasn’t Axel!” I snap, louder this time, pressing my fingers to the bridge of my nose as I turn away. My pulse hammers in my ears as I move toward the couch like it’s the only solid thing in the room .
“Then who, Cass? Who the fuck did this to you?” Lexie follows, dropping beside me. Her fingers wrap around mine, warm and tight. I see the glassiness in her eyes, the storm brewing behind them. She’s furious, afraid. I don’t blame her. I can barely stand to look at myself either.
“Aiden Daniels,” I say, barely above a whisper.
She blinks, stunned. Her mouth twitches, processing. “District Attorney Daniels?”
“The very one.”
Lexie’s on her feet in a blink, pacing. Her hands flail, slicing the air every few steps. Her thoughts are written in bold gestures, the anger simmering beneath her skin. “What in the sick fuck?” she snaps. “Why didn’t you call me?”
Why didn’t I? It’s a good question. A fair one.
Shame coils in my gut. I drop my eyes to the floor, fixating on the chipped polish on my toes. Easier to look at that than the guilt in her face.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I guess I didn’t think to.”
“Shit.” The word is more breath than sound.
I glance up in time to see her fall to her knees in front of me. Her hands find my face again, this time gently, cautiously.
“I’m sorry, Cass. That’s not what matters right now.”
Her sincerity wraps around me like a weighted blanket. I place my hands over hers. Lexie might act tough, hard, brash, emotionally bulletproof, but I know the soft spots she hides. I know her tells.
“Hunter found me,” I murmur. “He took me to Axel’s. I stayed the night. I guess I forgot to text you.”
The tears I’ve been holding back all morning finally break free, sliding silently down my cheeks. I don’t cry for Axel. I cry for me, for the fear, for the helplessness I felt, and for the way that bastard’s voice still echoes in my head.
Lexie moves beside me, her hand landing firmly on my knee. I bury my face in my hands.
“You’re okay,” she whispers. “That’s the main thing. ”
Is it?
Because Daniels might not have succeeded last night, but he was the one who pulled the trigger on Axel at Christmas.
He was probably the one sending me flowers to scare me.
And if Noah hadn’t shown up when he did—or at all—I don’t even want to think about what might’ve happened to me.
The dread burrows under my skin, sticky and cold.
“Cassie,” Lexie says softly, her tone urging me to stay grounded. “It could have been a lot worse.”
I nod, but her words slide off me, barely absorbed.
“What did he have to say?”
I raise a brow. Does she really need to ask? She knows Axel’s fury, knows what kind of retaliation is probably already in motion.
“Right,” she chuckles dryly. “You want some coffee? I’m gasping for some.”
I glance at her, narrowing my eyes. “Why are you just coming in anyway?”
“I had errands to run.” She shrugs like it’s nothing, but there’s a tell-tale sign that she’s not being honest. It was the same the other night when I came home to the mess scattered around our apartment.
Something feels...off between us. Not bad exactly, just distant.
Like there’s a wedge I can’t quite see. Maybe some girl talk will soften the edges.
I watch her put the kettle on and busy herself with mugs. I wait until the scent of coffee fills the air before I slide onto a stool at the island.
“So, Hunter found you?” she asks, taking a sip from her mug.
I roll my eyes and wrap my hands around my mug. “Yeah, don’t get me started.”
“Why?”
“Because apparently, Hunter has been following me for a while.”
Lexie lifts a brow. “Really? How do you know that?”
“I overheard Axel chewing him out this morning. Said he didn’t get to me in time. Apparently, he ‘tasked’ him with watching over me.”
“That’s sweet.”
“Sweet?” I scoff incredulously. “It’s controlling. It’s overbearing.”
“I don’t think he means it that way,” she says carefully, her gaze flicking to the marks on my face.
“Maybe not,” I mutter, my fingers tightening around the warm ceramic of my mug. I keep my gaze locked on the swirling surface of the coffee, watching the faint ripple from my breath. “But having his men follow me without telling me? That’s a line.”
The words taste bitter on my tongue. I don’t know if it’s guilt or anger that makes my chest feel tight, but the feeling is there, gnawing.
Was I wrong to feel violated by that? Even if it came from a place of care?
A place of protection? That kind of thing doesn’t feel like love—it feels like control.
And Lexie? She’d be the first to call that out.
She never hesitated to call Cooper out for being a controlling, manipulative asshole.
So why does this feel different? Why do I feel like I’m the one crossing some unspoken boundary by even saying it aloud?
“Is Hunter really his men , though?” Lexie tilts her head, her brow lifting with a knowing look.
That gives me pause. Fair point. Trigger had explained some of it to me before, how The Five weren’t just colleagues or soldiers, they were family. The kind of bond forged in blood and chaos. Hunter didn’t answer to Axel like an employee. They were brothers, chosen and loyal. Still…
“I guess not,” I sigh, letting the breath rush from me as I lean back slightly. “But that’s not the point.”
Lexie sets her mug down with a soft clink , the sound oddly final. “Are you saying you don’t feel safe with them?”
The question lands harder than I expect. It’s not accusatory, not even defensive, but I see the flicker in her eyes. Hurt. Quiet, restrained, but there. She doesn’t say it, but I know her well enough to read the subtext: You used to feel safest with me.
My heart tugs. I hate that I’ve made her feel like that.
“Oh, no,” I say quickly, shaking my head, trying to erase the shadow I just cast between us. “I feel safest with them. No offense.”
Lexie’s lips twitch into a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “None taken.”
But I can tell something lingers behind her smile, something unspoken. Maybe it’s the time we’ve lost between us, the distance that’s grown without either of us meaning for it to. Maybe it’s jealousy. Maybe it’s worry. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s all of it.
But I know Lexie. I see what she’s not saying. I haven’t been around. We haven’t been us. And you can’t feel safe with someone who’s never there.
“But a heads-up would’ve been nice,” I grumble into my mug.
Lexie grins, that familiar mischievous spark returning. “I don’t know… being watched? That’s kinda hot.”
Of course she’d say that. Danger is her kink. She thrives on chaos. Probably why she’s perpetually single; no one could ever keep up with her. She’s fierce, wild, untamable. A firecracker in human form.
“If it was Axel doing the watching, then maybe,” I admit, cheeks heating.
I get lost in the thought, tracing circles on my mug. Axel watches me with that same intensity he does when we’re alone—when he’s got me under him, whispering filth like I’m the only thing that exists. God .
But then I’m reminded— it would never be him. Axel didn’t come himself. He asked Hunter to watch over me for a reason. No matter how much I might want him to be the one protecting me, he can’t bring himself to leave the house.
“What’s going on?” Lexie asks gently, placing a warm hand over mine. Her thumb brushes across my knuckles, grounding me.
“He hasn’t left the house since the hospital,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper.
She doesn’t flinch. “Agoraphobia,” she says matter-of-factly, like it’s just another term in her mental health toolkit. “It’s normal after trauma.”
I blink at her. “Agoraphobia?”
Lexie nods and starts ticking symptoms off on her fingers. “Fear of leaving the house. Anxiety in public spaces. Avoidance of crowds, open areas, even driving sometimes.”
I bite my lip hard. Every word she says feels like a puzzle piece sliding into place. Axel’s avoidance, the way he paced near the front door but never crossed it when I visited the other night. The tension in his shoulders when he pulled a gun on me. He’s not just hiding, he’s trapped.
A quiet fear coils in my gut. “Will he be okay?”
Lexie rinses her mug at the sink, nodding without hesitation. “I think so. The Five? They’re nothing if not relentless. And seeing you like this?” She glances over her shoulder and gestures to my face, where I know the bruises haven’t quite faded. “That’ll light a fire under Axel.”
I let out a breath of laughter, surprised by the warmth in it. “He was super pissed.”
She smirks. “See? Sounds like he’s back to his usual moody self.”
“He’s not moody,” I protest, too quickly.
Lexie raises a brow, clearly unconvinced.
I groan and hand her my mug. “Okay, maybe a little moody.”
“But I bet the sex makes up for it,” she says, winking shamelessly.
My cheeks go nuclear. I press my palm to my face. “Oh my god, Lexie.”
She laughs, the sound warm and familiar. And yeah… she’s not wrong. It more than makes up for it .
“What’ve you got planned today?” she asks, drying her hands on a towel.
I force my brain to stop spiraling down a tunnel of Axel’s mouth and the things he does with his hands. “Nothing really. But I still need to grab my stuff from my old place.”
Lexie immediately grabs her phone, typing something with swift, practiced fingers. I raise a brow, ready to call her out for scrolling mid-conversation, when she suddenly beams.
“He’s out. I’ll come with you.”
And just like that, I guess today’s agenda includes clearing out the last pieces of my past, with Lexie by my side.
Not the worst way to spend the day.