16. Ember
CHAPTER 16
EMBER
HEAVEN SENT – TROPHY EYES
The silver-haired shrink sipping tea opposite me like some wizened old professor looks like he belongs in a psych ward himself. How he thought that a floral shirt with a bright-pink tie was a good idea, I’ll never know.
“I’m Doctor Richards. I consult for Sabre on a regular basis, offering psychological support to agents undergoing training and active duties.”
His voice is crisp and professional, a far cry from his whacky style and wild bush of pewter hair. When I walked into the therapy room, I nearly turned around to run straight back out.
“Aren’t you a little old to be doing this?” I blurt.
Chuckling, Richards swirls the tea in his cup. “I’m semi-retired. It didn’t quite stick.”
The man looks old enough to be in a retirement home.
“How long have you worked for Sabre?”
“Long enough to know what I’m doing. I consulted for the last owners for over a decade and have personally supported hundreds of clients and staff alike.”
Unconvinced, I remain on the edge of the chair, ready to get the fuck out of the spotlight. I don’t care what Warner says. I don’t need some pointless psych eval to join their team.
“Your physical examination was all clear.” Setting down his tea, he flicks through the stack of printed reports balancing on his knee. “That’s a relief, given your circumstances.”
Gulping down the noxious bubble in my throat, the safest response is to mutely nod. While the female doctor did question the scarring across my back, I was deemed a healthy weight and in good shape.
The examination was thorough and went better than expected. I only felt the urge to break her neck once or twice. And I was able to avoid revealing anything too telling.
I’m not sure how long I can keep my black outs a secret—I am living with the Anaconda Team, after all. Perhaps it’s foolish to keep this a secret, but I can’t risk losing this fragile chance now that I have it. They don’t need to know how damaged I truly am.
“I’ve also read your interview transcripts, so we don’t have to rehash the last six years.” Richards peers at me over his wire-rimmed glasses. “Unless you want to.”
“I’ll pass, thanks.”
“Given your history, it has been determined that you’ll have weekly debriefs with me throughout your time here. We’re well-equipped to support survivors of trauma.”
This time, I can’t help but shudder. At least he didn’t use the V-word. If I’m referred to as a victim one more time, I won’t be held responsible for my actions.
“This is such bullshit!”
Richards steeples his fingers over his belly. “Talk to me about why you’re frustrated.”
“Nice try. I refuse.”
“You can refuse. I can also decline to clear you to commence training.”
Holding eye contact, he merely waits. Watches. Scrutinises me with his beady, little eyes. The pressure to speak and get him off my case builds to an unbearable level.
“I don’t need anyone digging around in my brain.” I unclench my fists, my palms stinging from where my nails have been cutting into them. “And I have zero desire to rehash what happened to me. I just want to train and get to work.”
“You’ll have that opportunity, Ember. However, we cannot have agents working for Sabre who are not stable enough to endure the stressors of this career.”
“I’m perfectly stable!”
“No one is saying you’re not,” he replies calmly. “My job is to keep it that way. I have no ulterior motive here.”
Overwhelmed by frustration, I stand and begin to pace the small interview room. It’s been painted a muted shade of blue, filled with dark-wood furniture and forest themed photos on natural canvases.
Everything about this space pisses me off. The false sense of comfort. Richards and his scheming smiles. Warner’s encouragement to open up and be honest. It’s all designed to entrap me.
I don’t want to remember. Feel. Talk. Anything that will break down the internal brick wall I’ve haphazardly rebuilt. If it falls again, I don’t think I’ll be strong enough to build it up once more.
“Tell me why you’ve decided to join Sabre Security.”
“Why?” I groan.
“Humour me, Ember.”
Running a hand over my face, I move to study one of the images up close. “I want to do something useful.”
“Useful, how?”
Nosy fucking prick.
“You’ve read my file.” I flap a hand in his vague direction. “You know about the street fights. I have a skillset that will prove useful here.”
“That’s a very well-rehearsed answer,” Richards remarks.
“Excuse me?”
“Tell me what actually motivates you.”
Rounding on him, I have a million unkind words to offer in retaliation. His presumption to understand what I’m thinking and feeling is downright infuriating.
“Isn’t that good enough?”
“It’s a start.” He arches a brow. “But after years spent taking orders, being controlled and confined… it’s curious that you would opt to undergo a process which will assign you a new master.”
“I’m not here for a master.”
“Then why are you here?” Richards challenges.
Contemplating hurling the canvas at his head, I flex my stiff neck. The fierce pain in my head is back. It hasn’t really abated since the blistering argument with Tom. Nor in his silence since I left without another word.
While I haven’t had another full black out yet, I can feel my body failing me. The chronic pain is constant and blinding. Pretending that everything is fine while fending off the symptoms is becoming challenging.
“I want to capture the men who hurt me. Who hurt all of us.”
“For revenge?”
“No.” I jerkily shake my head. “For justice.”
“One would be forgiven for thinking they’re one and the same thing.”
Reluctantly retaking my seat, I avoid the old doctor’s penetrating stare. Something tells me he can see through my motives without me having to expose them.
“Anger is a dangerous emotion in this line of work.” Richards closes the file resting on his leg. “If you wish to be effective here, you need to find a way to see past it.”
“What are you saying? I’m not cleared?”
“I’m saying you need to sit in that chair every week and work with me to understand what you’ve been through. If you don’t do that, your time at Sabre will be short-lived.”
His honesty is strangely refreshing. It’s different from the grief counsellor that Tom insisted I speak to after Mum’s death. She tiptoed around me until it became insulting. I hated her mind games.
“What happens to what I share with you?”
“These sessions are confidential,” Richards assures me, that damn smile reappearing. “Unless I have cause for concern, our conversations will remain private.”
“You don’t report back to Warner? Or senior management?”
“All I provide is a stamp of approval that clears you for duty. Why I give that approval, or perhaps rescind it, remains my business alone.”
Mistrust curdles inside me, but I can feel it morphing into defeat. I won’t get past him. Not without giving him something to dissect. If I can give just enough to placate him, perhaps I’ll pass his tests.
“So...” Richards picks his tea back up to continue sipping. “We have forty-five minutes. Use them as you see fit.”
Resolving to play along with his charade, I talk a little about my old life. The studio. My regular clients. How close Tom and I were, growing up with a chronically ill parent.
Richards listens intently, opting not to take notes. By the time his cup is empty and my throat aches from talking, we’ve ran over the allotted forty-five minutes.
“Friday morning.” He unfolds his legs then stands. “Nine o’clock every week, Ember. I need prior notice and a damn good reason if you’re going to miss a session.”
“I’m not sure forced therapy is particularly ethical.”
“Who said anything about therapy?” Richards flashes me another cooky smile. “I’m just a listening ear, giving you an outlet for all those pesky feelings. That’s all.”
“Does that mean you’ll clear me to join the team?”
He tucks his stack of files under his arm. “You may commence training.”
“Thank you, doc.”
“Remember the deal, Ember. Weekly meetings. I’ll be keeping a close eye on you.” Richards fishes a business card from his jacket to hand over. “You’re to contact me if anything comes up.”
Taking the embossed card with no intention to save the number, I fold it in my hand. “Sure.”
“Then you’re free to leave.”
Richards’s stare follows me out of the interview room. I slam the door closed to escape him, slumping against it and sucking in several gulps of air.
The old man has a way of getting under my skin. I went in anticipating a fight, so his careful words and quiet observation were unexpected. I need to watch myself around him.
“Dimples!”
“Axel?”
Straightening from his perch against the wall, Axel bounces over to me. With his usual ripped jeans in place, he wears a typically colourful t-shirt displaying another crazy slogan.
“ Disguised as a responsible adult ?” I read aloud.
“Do you like it?”
“Well, it’s better than the pizza shirt at least.”
Yanking me away from the closed door, I’m dragged into a bone-creaking hug. Tattooed muscles smash into me from the force of the collision.
“You’ve been gone for hours!” he whines dramatically.
“You know, evaluations and stuff.”
Axel slowly releases me. “How’d it go?”
“I’ve been cleared to commence training. Clean bill of health.”
Fist pumping the air, he beams brightly. “Then that’s cause for celebration. Wanna get food?”
“Um… sure? What time is it?”
“Past eight. Hyland and Warner are dealing with some mission planning. We’re all going to talk when they get home.”
“Planning? What happened?”
“I located the meeting and identified some players.”
“Who?” I quickly demand.
“Nuh-uh,” he tuts. “Food first, team meeting later. They want to be there for the big debrief. And trust me, you do not want to see me hangry.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Like hangry Axel is any different.”
“That’s rude.” He slings an inked arm around my neck. “Come on, the local cafe does a mean burger. It’s just down the road.”
Smothered by him, I happily let Axel strong-arm me from the building. Anything to put distance between Doctor Richards and the whispered secrets swirling inside me that I do not want him to unearth.
“Don’t we need security?” I ask as we step outside.
Axel pats a bulge in his supple leather jacket. “I am your security, babe. You’re safe with me.”
Honestly, I feel far from it with his body heat wrapped around me. Axel’s inability to maintain boundaries is far more dangerous than anyone who would dare attack me.
When he snags hold of my hand and tangles our fingers together like it’s the most natural thing in the world, I bite down on my bottom lip. He has to know what he’s doing.
Even at this hour, the crush of traffic and pedestrians fail to relent. Night and day don’t really exist in London. It’s always in a perpetual state of motion.
We walk in comfortable silence to a scary-looking cafe down the street. Seriously, the place is complete with a striped, red-and-white overhang and neon lighting outside.
“What is this place?”
“London’s finest greasy spoon!” Axel excitedly rubs his hands together. “Home to the juiciest cheeseburgers in town. I know you’re a fan.”
“I’m just easily pleased,” I joke.
“That ain’t a bad thing, dimples.”
Disentangling myself from his body, I step inside the cafe and grimace at the sound of blaring rock music. With its cheap Formica tables, cracked vinyl seats and plastic menus, the entire place screams tacky and cheerful.
A skinny chef flipping burgers behind the serving counter gleefully sings along to an old Nirvana tune while plating dishes. His counterpart—the scowling waitress scribbling on a small notepad—startles me when she yells out an order.
“It’s not exactly Michelin star dining,” Axel admits somewhat nervously. “But I didn’t think you’d care.”
“You’re right.” I laugh under my breath. “I really don’t.”
He releases his held breath. “Thank God.”
“But I want three burgers with extra bacon and a portion of cheesy fries as an apology for calling me a cheap date. You also don’t want to see me hangry.”
Tugging the end of my loose braid, he cracks a wide grin. “Whatever the lady desires.”
I find an empty table while Axel places our order, handing over a few crumpled notes to the harried-looking cashier. After receiving a laminated table number, Axel joins me with a selection of drinks.
“Take your pick, babe.”
Considering the options, I steal an apple lemonade. “Thank you.”
“You’re a bit weird, you know.” He wrinkles his nose. “That was my wild card.”
“What? I like fruity stuff. More than the shit you’re drinking.”
Cracking open a Diet Coke, he shrugs before taking a long sip. “I’ll eat or drink anything put in front of me. I’m not fussy.”
“So I can see.”
Dropping his chin onto his palm, Axel trains his focus on me. The full force of his curious, autumnal eyes causes uneasy goosebumps to break out on my skin.
“What did Richards say?”
“How did I know that dinner was a guise to pick my brain?”
“Because I’m laughably transparent?” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“You really are.”
“Come on then. Spill the beans.”
“Aren’t my sessions supposed to be private?” I glare back at him.
Axel shrugs dismissively. “I’m trustworthy.”
“That’s not the point.”
Lifting his head, he slumps back in the creaking plastic chair. I should’ve known one of them would attempt to dig into today’s evaluations. But he was my last guess.
“We’re going to be training you first thing in the morning, Ember. We’re working together. Living together. That means we have to trust each other.”
When I don’t reply, Axel cocks his head to the side.
“Don’t you trust me?”
“It’s not you I don’t trust, Ax.”
“Then who?”
Myself.
Lapsing into silence so I don’t have to find an answer to throw him off, Axel seems content to quietly wait. When the waitress eventually smacks a plastic bag filled with food containers in front of us, she huffs as she stalks off.
“Let’s go eat outside.” Axel doesn’t wait for my response, scooping up the bag. “That woman’s pissing me right off.”
“No arguments here.”
Following him out of the café, we wind back into the evening crowd. We’re not far from the riverbank, dotted with streetlamps that illuminate the winding route of the Thames.
“Over here.” Axel hops up onto the brick barrier. “Follow me.”
“Wait, seriously?”
“Don’t be scared, dimples. I’m not going to drown you in the dark.”
“How thoughtful!”
“Well, not until you’ve eaten, at least.”
Axel disappears from sight when he drops down the other side. I clamber onto the barrier, cursing when I see there’s a decent jump down onto the stony riverbank below where he’s waiting at the bottom.
With a cursory glance around, I follow him down. Lights from surrounding bars, pubs and fancy eateries illuminate the darkness, though London glows fluorescent even in the dead of night.
“Here.” He sits on a large chunk of fallen wall, already fishing in the food bag. “This is much better.”
“I didn’t take you for someone who needs peace and quiet to eat.”
“Everyone needs a bit of peace sometimes.” He hands me a grease-stained container. “Even me.”
Joining him on the hard rock, I dig into my first burger. Despite the café’s scary décor and their staff’s shitty attitude, it’s a bloody good burger. Thick, juicy and dripping with melted cheese.
Diving into the loaded fries next, I silently hand Axel the container so he can help himself.
“Oh, sweet,” he yips. “S’good.”
“Just save me some.”
“No promises.”
It feels oddly natural to sit and share a meal like this. Eating with our bare hands, sharing food, enjoying the comfortable silence. There’s no pressure or expectations.
By the end of my second burger, I’m starting to think I overestimated my own stomach size. Axel’s already hoovered up his chicken sandwich and bacon cheeseburger in record time.
“I’m going to need a self-imposed time out after this,” I groan.
“Need a hand there?”
Wordlessly handing him my leftovers, I let him scarf down the remnants while rubbing my bulging food baby. I’ve never been short of an appetite, but Axel’s craziness encourages it even more.
“Now I can think straight again.” He passes me a wrapped wet wipe from the bag. “That was fucking good.”
“Thanks for the invite. I needed to get out of there.”
“I’ll eat your extras anytime.” Axel winks at me.
“So chivalrous.”
“That’s me.” His easy smile falters, hardening into a rare serious look. “I’m glad you’re on the team, Ember.”
Despite the sound of the river lapping nearby, the distant cheers and thudding music as the night unfolds, I feel like the last human alive, caught in Axel’s stare. He sure looks at me like nothing else exists around us.
When the jokes stop, his vulnerability is arresting. All that sorrow and heartache trapped behind a cheesy grin and penchant for violence. The contrast is what consumes my fascination.
Even as thoughts of Warner and Hyland bubble in the back of my mind, I leap up to climb into his lap. Axel’s arms wrap around my back, allowing me to straddle his trim waist.
Sliding a hand into his tousled faux hawk, I toy with the coarse amethyst strands. His lids have fallen to a half-mast, the long length of his eyelashes hiding his blown pupils from sight.
“Why?” I challenge throatily.
“Just because.”
“Because you want me to do this?”
“Partly,” he admits in a rasp.
Tugging on his hair, I savour the groan that emanates from his inked throat. It’s a submissive sound that pours fuel on the sense of power that being around him sparks within me.
“What about that?”
“Yes.” His eyes squeeze shut.
Tugging again, I trail my parted lips along his jaw and up to his ear. Axel practically whines when my teeth sink into the plush lobe.
“We’re co-workers now,” I purr into his ear. “That means we have to be professional.”
“Hmm. Professional.”
His hips flex beneath me, lifting to show me just how much his body disagrees with that statement. The hard press of his rising erection tells a different story.
“We can’t touch,” I chastise him. “Or kiss. Or do anything inappropriate. It isn’t allowed.”
“Of course not.”
“And we definitely, definitely cannot sleep together.”
“Why would you even think about it?” Axel grunts deeply.
Letting my breath warm his skin, I slide a hand up to his throat. The tattoos there are beautifully intricate, each individual sunbeam filled with ornate, abstract patterns that disappear beneath his t-shirt.
My hand cinches around his neck, giving a light, teasing squeeze. I’m grinding on his lap without realising it, pushing down on the throbbing heat that strains against his denim.
Each move is furtive. I’m toying with a piece of forbidden fruit, not quite plucking it free. Toeing this thin line with my new teammate is clearly a bad fucking idea.
But I do not care one ounce.
Right now, I want to take. I want everything he’s offering and more. I want the safety of knowing that Axel will let me pillage his soul to refill my own with everything that’s been stolen from me.
Still holding his throat, I seal my lips on his. Axel lets me take control of the kiss, his mouth softening against mine. Salt still clings to his lips from our meal.
It isn’t slow or passionate. Not when the gaping chasm inside me is demanding something fill it. I kiss him hard, our teeth clanging from the rough collision, his mouth opening to accept my tongue.
Axel’s pulse hammers beneath my palm, stretching the ink that covers his throat. His cock is rock-hard beneath me, pressing into my core with tantalising promise.
Part of me loves how foolish this is. How awkward it’ll be now when one of us gets hurt and we’re still living together. The sick thrill of knowing this is stupid and reckless only makes me want it more.
“Ember,” he moans into my mouth. “You need to stop before I get arrested for bending your sweet ass over and plunging my cock inside you in public.”
His words hit right between my thighs where heat has pooled. “How would you take me?”
“Hard and rough, babe. I want to feel you clenching tight around me while I fuck the sass straight out of you.”
My inner walls clench and pulse, frantic to be filled. I’m viscerally aching. Every inch of me feels like it’s screaming out for a release that I can’t give it.
“Please,” I whine desperately.
“Fuck, Ember. Why did you start this here?”
Writhing against his thick erection, I think I’d happily let him take me right here. Damn the public. Need so acute has taken over, it’s to the point that I hardly recognise my own behaviour.
“Please. I need… I…”
“Shh. I’ve got you, dimples.” Axel presses his lips on mine again. “I’ll make it better.”
Shucking off his leather jacket, he pulls it around my shoulders to offer some coverage. It’s too big for me, giving a small amount of protection along with the high wall at our backs.
Hot, rapid kisses are pressed against my neck and throat, sucking the skin between his teeth to leave a mark. I let Axel lay his claim, pushing my chest forward to urge him on.
The scoop-necked t-shirt I threw on for today’s evaluations easily lifts to reveal my nude lace bra. From the moan in the back of Axel’s throat, he likes what he sees.
“If we were home right now, I’d be spreading you wide open to eat your pretty cunt.” He sighs in disappointment. “But I guess that’ll have to wait.”
Tugging my left bra cup aside, Axel plucks my nipple free to roll it between his fingers. I quietly mewl, staring at the city lights while sizzles radiate from my chest to my throbbing pussy.
“I bet it’s soaked for me.” Axel toys with my bud. “Are you wet right now?”
“Yes,” I gasp.
“But I thought this was all a bad idea, huh?”
“It is. Fuck, Ax.”
“Such a terrible idea,” he exaggerates.
When he ducks his head to suck my nipple into his mouth, the stars that burst behind my eyes erase any concerns about the complications this will cause.
All I care about is his wet mouth on my skin. His frenetic touch. The slick swipe of his tongue teasing my tingling flesh. Each lick and tease serving to increase my need for more.
My fingers weave back into his vibrant hair while I faintly remember to keep an eye out. We’re tucked out of sight enough to give us a little privacy, but still, anyone could interrupt.
Every time his tongue swirls around my bud, I feel the bite of his teeth. Flashes of pain and sweet bliss create a symphony inside me, reawakening every last pleasure cell.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” Axel releases my nipple with a pop. “And perfect.”
Rubbing myself against him again, I long for more. The clothing between us feels like a personal insult.
“Needy, aren’t you?” he teases.
“Fuck off.”
His chest vibrates with a chuckle. “It’s a compliment. I think it’s hot.”
Reaching between us, he finds the waistband of my leggings. I opted for comfort instead of formality for today’s crap. I’m thanking myself for the stretchy fabric now.
“Tell me to stop at any time, Em.”
When I don’t respond, Axel grabs my chin with his other hand.
“You hear me? I need you to tell me if this is too much. There’s no rush.”
“Yes. Please.” I frantically writhe against him. “God, yes. I need you. Just touch me.”
Easing his hand past the flexible Lycra, his fingertips skate over my lower belly and down to the edge of my panties. I wait for him to plunge inside, biting back another moan.
When Axel pushes into my panties, forcing me to lift from his lap to adjust my position, I internally celebrate. His hand moves to cup my pussy, giving a playful squeeze.
“I can feel the heat pouring off your cunt.” His hooded eyes lock on mine. “You’re loving this. Aren’t you?”
All I can do is mewl in confirmation when he pushes a finger through my slick folds. I can feel how much I’m dripping. It’s been a long, long time since I felt this way.
Sliding his digit inside my entrance, Axel slowly works it in and out of me. Each deep thrust delivers a brief snippet of relief, but it fails to satiate me. All I want is more.
“You’re going to ride my fingers, babe.”
“Right now?” I moan.
“Yes, Ember. Fuck my hand until you come all over it. Understood?”
Nodding frantically, I gasp when he pushes another finger inside my pussy.
“Say it out loud.”
The way his ministrations stretch my internal walls is a welcome sensation. With a foot planted on either side of his seated body, I have leverage to lift my hips up and down.
“Yes! God, yes. I understand.”
“Perfect. Keep moving.”
Each time I move to work myself on his scissoring fingers, Axel pushes them back inside me to deepen the impact. His thumb moves inside my panties, lifting to locate my clit before pushing down on it.
“More,” I plead.
“Fucking stunning. You ride my hand so well.”
Working myself on him, I find a fast, driving pace that he matches. I had no idea that getting finger fucked on a riverbank could be so hot, but here we are.
When Axel pushes a third finger into my slit, my head falls back on my shoulders. Everything feels tense and overheated. My muscles have tensed to breaking point.
“Ax…”
“That’s it, babe. Are you going to give it up for me?”
“Yes… Please…”
“Come on. Soak my hand. That’s it.”
The intensity of his fingers pressing inside my core drives me to the edge. He’s dragging against my walls and pressing the sweet spot buried far inside me, but it’s his praise that finishes me off.
Staring up at the glowing night sky, I have to mash my lips together to hold a loud cry of ecstasy inside. The moan reverberates from my throat and chest instead, echoing with my orgasm.
“Oh, God,” I mewl.
“Dammit. That’s a sight, Em.”
Undulating on Axel’s hand, the last vestiges of my release engulf me, spreading heat into every last molecule of my being. The way he watches me in awe makes it even more satisfying.
“That was so incredibly hot, I think I actually came myself,” he announces proudly. “Bloody hell.”
Cheeks flushing, I feel him ease his hand from my panties and leggings. I’m not prepared for him to raise his fingers to his mouth and lick each glistening digit clean.
“You even taste sweet. Fuck.”
“You’re insane, Ax. And that was insane too.”
“Does insane mean good, amazing or mind-blowingly fantastic in your language?”
With his fingers sucked dry, Axel gives me a lascivious smirk. I crash my forehead into his chest, unable to provide a single, level-headed retort back.
Yep. I am well and truly screwed now.