40. Axel
40
AXEL
I find Anna in the garden before dawn, her hands working methodically among the flowers despite the early hour. She doesn’t startle when I approach, though I know she hears me. The voices in my head are quiet this morning, giving me the clarity I’ll need for this conversation.
“You’re up early,” I say, keeping my distance.
She doesn’t look up from the bougainvillea she’s trailing along a wooden trellis. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“That makes two of us.” I move closer, noticing how the trellis wobbles as she works. “Let me help with that.”
Anna pauses, finally looking at me. Her eyes are tired but sharp, assessing. After a moment, she nods.
I kneel beside her, steadying the structure while she weaves the vibrant vines through the lattice. We work silently for several minutes, the task routine creating a strange peace between us.
“Why my daughter?” she finally asks, her voice low but steady. “Of all the women in the world, why Willow?”
The question’s directness catches me off guard. I consider deflecting, using the charm that’s manipulated so many before, but something tells me Anna deserves the truth.
“She silences the voices,” I admit. “When I’m with her, the chaos in my head... stops.”
Anna’s hands pause. “The voices that tell you to hurt people?”
“Yes.” There’s no point denying what she already knows.
“And if they come back?” Her eyes meet mine, unflinching. “If they tell you to hurt her?”
The thought makes something cold twist in my chest. “I’d leave. Disappear before I ever let that happen.”
“Just like that?” Skepticism colors her tone. “You’d walk away from someone you claim to care about?”
“I don’t just care about her.” The words feel strange on my tongue but undeniably true. “I love her. And that’s why I’d rather cut off my own hands than hurt her.”
Anna studies my face, searching for deception. “You know what love is? A man who’s done the things you’ve done?”
“I didn’t.” I help her secure another section of vine. “Not until Willow. I thought it was a weakness, something to exploit in others. But now...”
“Now what?” she presses.
“Now I understand it’s the only thing worth protecting.” I meet her gaze steadily. “Your daughter showed me that. She saw something in me everyone else missed—including myself.”
Anna turns back to gardening, but I notice her hands trembling slightly. “She’s always been that way. Seeing the good in people, even when it’s buried deep.”
“There wasn’t much good to find in me,” I admit. “But she created some, somehow.”
“And the killing?” Her voice drops even lower. “The violence? Is that just gone now?”
I consider lying, telling her what she wants to hear, but I respect her too much for that. “The urges are still there. They always will be. But I’ve found other outlets. Ways to protect rather than destroy.”
“That’s not very reassuring.”
“It’s honest.” I help her stand as we finish with the trellis. “I could tell you I’m cured, that I’ll never hurt anyone again, but we’d both know that’s bullshit. What I can promise is that I’ll die before I let anything happen to Willow.”
Anna brushes dirt from her hands, her expression unreadable. “And if the authorities find you? If they take you back to prison?”
“They won’t.” The certainty in my voice surprises even me. “I’ve made sure of it.”
“You sound very confident for a man with your face on international wanted lists.”
“I’m thorough.” I glance toward the house where Willow still sleeps. “And motivated.”
Anna follows my gaze. “She’s given up everything for you. Her career, her home, her future.”
“I know.” The weight of that sacrifice isn’t lost on me. “I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure she never regrets it.”
“How?” Anna challenges. “By hiding in this beach house? Running whenever someone gets too close? That’s not a life, Axel. That’s survival.”
Her words hit harder than expected. “What would you have me do? Turn myself in?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “Find a way to give her some normalcy. Some stability. She deserves that.”
“She does,” I agree. “Any suggestions?”
Anna looks surprised at my willingness to listen. “Start by seeing a psychologist in town. Not just for show, but because you need it.”
I nod. “What else?”
“Let her have connections outside of just you. Friends. A purpose beyond being your... whatever she is to you.”
“She’s everything to me,” I say simply.
Anna’s expression softens fractionally. “Then prove it by ensuring she has everything she needs, not just what you can give her. I don’t want her isolated.”
The sun rises over the ocean, painting the garden in golden light. Anna gathers her gardening tools and prepares to head inside.
“One more question,” she says, pausing beside me. “Before Willow, what was your plan? Where did you see yourself ending up?”
The truth rises to my lips before I can stop it. “Dead. Or back in prison. There was never a future for someone like me.”
“And now?”
I look toward the house again, feeling something unfamiliar expand in my chest. “Now I want to live. For her.”
Anna studies me for a long moment, her expression shifting from distrust to something more complex. Not acceptance—not yet—but perhaps the beginning of understanding.
“I’m staying,” she says finally. “Not in this house, but nearby. I’m not abandoning my daughter, even if I don’t fully understand her choices.”
Relief washes through me, surprising in its intensity. Willow needs her mother—someone who loved her before the darkness I brought into her life.
“Thank you,” I say simply.
“I’m not doing it for you.” Her voice hardens again. “And if you ever hurt her?—”
“You won’t have to do anything,” I interrupt. “Because I’ll never hurt her.”
Anna nods, accepting this promise. Walking back to the house together, I realize something has shifted between us. Not friendship, not trust, but a fragile alliance built on the one thing we have in common: we both love Willow enough to do whatever it takes to protect her.
Even if that means learning to tolerate each other.