21. Lainey
TWENTY-ONE
LAINEY
My head throbs as consciousness creeps in the next morning, reminding me exactly how much champagne I drank at the reception.
Not that it helped.
Nothing could have made last night better after seeing the betrayal in Axel’s eyes.
The rational part of me knows I didn't technically do anything wrong. We're all adults here, free to make our own choices. Marcus and I never crossed any lines while Axel and I were together. But the guilt still gnaws at me, knowing I should have told Axel sooner about my growing feelings for his dad.
I drag myself out of bed, wincing as the movement intensifies my headache. In the bathroom mirror, I'm greeted by bloodshot eyes and mascara smudges. I splash cold water on my face, trying to shake off the lingering effects of last night's champagne and the weight of my tangled emotions.
As I brush my teeth, I can't help but worry about what this means for my relationship with Marcus. Ruby drove me home from the reception. And when I got back, I found him sitting on the back deck in the darkness, a glass of whiskey untouched in his hand.
He saw me but neither of us said a word.What was there to say? We’d known this day would come eventually. Known that keeping us secret from Axel would blow up in our faces. We just hadn’t expected it to happen like this.
I brew a strong pot of coffee, hoping the aroma will lure Marcus back inside. As I pour two mugs, I debate whether to bring one out to him or wait for him to come to me.
The steady thwack of the ax against wood echoes through the quiet morning air.
Each strike feels like it's cleaving my heart in two.
I know Marcus is out there wrestling with his demons, trying to bury his guilt and conflict beneath a pile of firewood.
I want to go to him, to wrap my arms around his strong torso and press my face into the solid warmth of his back. I want to tell him that we'll figure this out together, that what we have is worth fighting for. But I'm frozen in the kitchen, paralyzed by the fear that he might not feel the same way anymore.
Finally, I force my feet to move. I push open the screen door with my hip, carefully balancing the two steaming mugs. The brisk mountain air nips at my skin as I pad across the dew-damp grass in my bare feet.
Marcus doesn't acknowledge me as I approach, just keeps splitting logs with methodical precision. I watch the fluid flex of his arms, the sweat glistening on his neck above the collar of his flannel shirt. He grunts with each swing.
"I made you coffee," I say quietly, holding out one of the mugs.
He lets the ax head thud into the chopping block, wiping an arm across his brow. He turns to me, his amber eyes filled with a tumultuous blend of emotions I can't quite decipher. Weariness. Guilt. Longing. He crosses the yard, closing the distance between us with purposeful strides.
"Thank you, baby," he murmurs, his deep voice even rougher than usual. His calloused fingers brush mine as he takes the mug.
"You've been up for hours," I comment, studying the dark shadows beneath his eyes and the tense set of his chiseled jaw. "Did you sleep at all?"
He takes a long sip of the coffee, his gaze fixed on the steam curling up from the surface. "Not really. Had a lot on my mind."
I swallow hard, my stomach twisting with fresh guilt and regret.
"Marcus, I'm so sorry about what happened with Axel. I never meant for him to find out like that. For it to hurt him. Or you."
Marcus sets the mug down on the nearby railing and pulls me into his arms. I'm enveloped by his warmth, his scent of pine and male musk and morning coffee. His big hand cradles the back of my head as I press my face into his chest.
"This isn't your fault, Lainey," he says firmly, his deep voice rumbling through me. "Don't you dare blame yourself for any of it."
I shake my head against him, tears pricking the backs of my eyes. "But it is, Marcus. At least partly. I should have told Axel sooner, before he figured it out on his own like that. Before he felt so betrayed and angry."
Marcus sighs heavily, his breath ruffling my hair. "No, baby. This is on me. It's about me and the fact that I've been a shit father to that boy for too goddamn long. I'm the one who needs to make this right with him."
I tilt my head back to look up at him. His amber eyes are shadowed with regret and guilt, but there's a fierce determination there too. The kind that makes me believe he can do anything he sets his mind to.
"What are you going to do?" I ask softly, searching his face.
He reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his thumb brushing my cheek. "I don't know yet. But I'll figure it out. I have to. I can't lose my son over this. Over us."
Fresh tears sting my eyes as a thought occurs to me. A terrible, wrenching thought. "Should I move out? Give you space to work things out with Axel without me complicating everything?"
"Absolutely not," Marcus says instantly, his arms tightening around me. "You're not going anywhere, Lainey. This is your home now too. I'm not letting you walk away."
He leans down and captures my mouth in a soft, coffee-flavored kiss. It's gentle but demanding, a silent promise. A vow that he won't give up on us, no matter how hard things get.
When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against mine. "Axel will come around eventually. He's just shocked and hurt right now. Once he calms down and lets me explain, I’ll make things right."
Relief floods through me at Marcus's reassurance, washing away the dread that had settled like a stone in my gut. I exhale a shaky breath I didn't realize I was holding.
"Thank God," I whisper. "I was so worried that this would be the thing that finally broke us. That you'd decide I wasn't worth the trouble after all."
Marcus pulls back slightly to look me in the eye, his brow furrowed. "Did you really think I was going to let you go? Just like that?"
I drop my gaze, feeling foolish now for doubting him. For not trusting in the strength of what we have.
"I don't know. I wasn't sure. Everything just felt so uncertain after last night."
He tips my chin up with a gentle finger, forcing me to meet his intense amber gaze.
"Lainey, I love you. So damn much that it scares me sometimes. There is nothing in this world that could make me give you up. Not Axel, not anyone or anything. You hear me?"
Tears blur my vision as a well of emotion rises in my throat. "I love you too, Marcus. More than I even knew I could love someone."
He smiles then, a slow, sexy curve of his lips that makes my heart stutter. He leans in and kisses me again, deeper this time. Hungrier. Like he's staking his claim, making sure I know that I'm his and he's mine.
Reluctantly, I break the kiss, pulling back just enough to catch my breath. A soft giggle escapes me as I gaze up at Marcus, taking in his slightly dazed expression and kiss-swollen lips.
"As much as I'd love to keep doing this all day, I better let you get back to your logs now," I tease gently, trailing my fingers down his stubbled jaw. "I don't want to be blamed for the lack of firewood later."
Marcus chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrates through his chest. "I suppose you're right. Though I can think of much more enjoyable ways to spend the day than splitting wood."
I grin up at him, arching a brow. "Oh, I'm sure you can. But those will have to wait until later."
I stretch up on my toes to brush a light kiss across his lips, then step back out of his embrace. "I actually need to head into town to run some errands today. I should be home by dinner."
Marcus nods, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear. His touch lingers, sending a shiver down my spine despite the warm morning sun.
"Alright, baby. Drive safe and call me if you need anything. I'll be here when you get back."
I smile at him, my heart full to bursting with love for this complicated, devoted man. "I know you will be."
I sit in my car outside of Walker’s Metal Shop, listening to the muffled sound of Highland Rye practicing through the metal walls. My fingers tap against the steering wheel as I try to find the right words.
The familiar opening riff of their new song starts up again. I close my eyes, remembering all the times I sat in this same spot as Axel’s girlfriend, psyching myself up to seem interested in sound mixing and recording techniques. The music was always too loud, the space too cold, but I’d smile and nod because that’s what good girlfriends did.
And I might have just ruined all of that.
When I finally walk in, they’re in the middle of a song.
Axel stands at the microphone, his eyes closed as he sings. His shoulders are tense, the way he always gets when he’s trying to pretend something isn’t bothering him. The song ends abruptly, missing the usual flourish he adds to their endings. He opens his eyes and sees me by the door.
For a moment, we just stare at each other.
The hurt in his expression makes my chest ache. This isn’t the theatrical anger he uses to get his way or the sullen silence when he’s being petty. This is real pain, and I put it there.
“Hey,” I say, my voice barely carrying across the space. “That new song sounds good.”
“Thanks.” He fiddles with his guitar strap, not quite meeting my eyes. “Still working on the bridge.”
“The tempo change is cool.” I take a few steps closer, falling back on the music terminology I picked up during our relationship. “Very... dynamic.”
He sighs. “What do you want, Lainey?”
I glance at his bandmates, who are very obviously pretending not to listen. “Can we talk?”
Axel looks at me for a long moment, his jaw working as he considers my request. Finally, he turns to his bandmates. "Guys, can you give us ten minutes?"
They exchange curious glances but don't argue, setting down their instruments and filing out of the room. The door clangs shut behind them, leaving Axel and me alone in the cavernous space. The air feels thick with tension and unspoken words.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself.
"Axel, I'm so sorry about last night. About everything. I know I should have told you sooner about Marcus and me. I never meant for you to find out like that or for it to hurt you."
Axel scoffs, shaking his head. "Spare me the bullshit, Lainey. You knew exactly what you were doing. Sneaking around with my dad behind my back, lying to my face for months. How did you think I would feel when I found out?"
I flinch at the venom in his tone, the raw pain beneath the anger.
"I didn't lie, Axel. I just... didn't tell you the whole truth. And I am sorry for that, I really am. But you and your dad weren’t on the best terms, and I didn’t know what to do."
“Don’t try to make this about me and him. This is about you lying to my face for weeks. Sitting on my couch, eating my food, acting like everything was normal-”
“No,” I cut in, my voice stronger now. “This is about you judging me when you have no right.”
"What do you mean?"
I take a step closer, holding his gaze.
"I mean, you're not exactly innocent here either. Or have you forgotten that you cheated on me with Kayla Simmons while she had a boyfriend?"
Axel pales, his eyes widening. "That was different," he stammers.
“Was it?” I straighten my spine, done with feeling guilty. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks pretty damn similar. You went behind my back with another girl. Lied to me about it for weeks. And then when I found out, you turned it around on me. Made me out to be the crazy, clingy girlfriend on social media."
Axel at least has the decency to look ashamed, dropping his gaze to the scuffed concrete floor.
"I was an asshole. I know that now. But this thing with you and my dad isn’t the same."
"You're right. It's not the same. Because unlike you, I didn't cheat. I didn't set out to hurt you or humiliate you. I fell in love with Marcus after you and I broke up. I should have told you sooner, and I'm sorry for that. But I won't apologize for loving him."
Axel gives me a curious look, his brow furrowing. "You're really in love with him?”
I meet his gaze steadily, my heart in my throat. "I am. More than I knew was possible."
Something flickers in Axel's eyes, an emotion I can't quite decipher. Surprise, maybe. Or begrudging respect.
But then he turns away, bracing his hands on the sound board. I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers press against the metal until they turn white.
"He's twice your age, Lainey," he says finally, his voice strained. "He's... he's my dad."
"Don't you think I've agonized over the age difference? Worried what people would think?" I shake my head, a wry smile tugging at my lips. "But here's the thing - when I'm with him, none of that matters. He makes me happy. Happier than I've ever been."
Axel sighs heavily, running a hand through his dark hair. He turns to face me, leaning back against the soundboard.
"I don't know what you want me to say, Lainey. This is a lot to process. I mean, you're dating my dad. My dad, who I've barely spoken to in months. Who I've been angry at for as long as I can remember."
"I know it's not easy. And I'm not asking you to be okay with it overnight. But I am asking you to try to understand. To see how much I care about him. How much he cares about me."
Axel looks at me for a long moment, his amber eyes so much like his father's searching mine. I can see the conflict playing out across his handsome face - the hurt and anger warring with a reluctant acceptance.
Finally, he runs a hand through his disheveled hair. "I need to get back to practice. The guys are probably wondering what's taking so long."
He pushes off the soundboard and takes a step towards me, his movements hesitant. Tentative. Like he's not sure where we stand anymore.
"I'll see you around, Lainey," he says quietly.
I nod, my throat tight. "See you around, Axel.”
The drive back home feels both heavier and lighter than the drive into town.
My heart aches with the weight of Axel's pain, the betrayal that still lingers in his eyes. But there's a lightness too, a tentative hope that maybe, just maybe, we can find our way back to being friends again. It won't be easy, and it certainly won't happen overnight. But for the first time since he found out about Marcus and me, I feel like there's a chance.
As I wind my way through the familiar twists and turns of the mountain roads, my phone buzzes. The screen lights up with an alert from the diner’s security system:
SMOKE DETECTED - BACK STORAGE.
I stare at the notification, my brain refusing to process the words.
The diner is closed on Mondays. No one should be there. I’d locked up myself last night, double-checking every door like I always do.
My hands shake as I make a U-turn, tires squealing against the pavement.
The diner’s only ten minutes away, but each second stretches into eternity. I should call the fire department. The police. Marcus. My fingers tighten on the steering wheel. No. I can handle this myself. It’s probably just a faulty wire or a broken sensor.
Questions race through my mind as I push the speedometer higher. Did I leave something on? Did one of the ancient electrical outlets finally give out?
I round the final corner, and my heart stops.
Gray smoke billows from the back of the building, twisting up into the clear morning sky. My heart leaps into my throat as I see Derrick's car parked haphazardly in the otherwise empty lot. The driver's side door hangs open, keys still dangling from the ignition.
No. It can't be. He can't be here.
I throw my car into park and race towards the diner, fear propelling me forward. The smoke grows thicker as I approach, stinging my eyes and filling my lungs. I yank open the front door, coughing as I'm engulfed in a cloud of acrid haze.
"Derrick!" I scream, my voice raw with panic. "Derrick, are you in here?"
Silence. Nothing but the crackle of flames and the pounding of my own heart in my ears.
I rush through the dining room, upending chairs and shoving aside tables as I search for any sign of him. The smoke is thicker back here, the air shimmering with heat. Fear claws at my throat as I burst into the kitchen, dreading what I might find.
"Derrick! Answer me, dammit!"
I spin in a frantic circle, my eyes darting from the prep stations to the walk-in cooler. The smoke is coming from the storage room door, ominous gray tendrils curling out from beneath the weathered wood.
Is he in there? Trapped by the flames?
I lunge for the door, my shaking hand closing around the knob. It's hot to the touch, the metal searing my palm. I grit my teeth against the pain and turn it, smoke billowing out as I wrench the door open.
"Derrick!" I cough out, squinting into the haze. "Derrick, where are you?"
I take a step forward, my heart in my throat. And then I see him.
He's sprawled on the concrete floor, his legs twisted beneath him at an unnatural angle. Blood trickles from a gash on his temple, mixing with the soot smudged across his face. His eyes are closed, his chest still.
"No," I whisper, staggering towards him. "No, no, no."
I drop to my knees beside him, my hands hovering uselessly over his motionless form. Tears blur my vision as I reach out to feel for a pulse, to prove to myself that this isn't real. That he isn't...
My fingers tremble as I press them to Derrick's neck, desperate to feel the steady thrum of his pulse. A choked sob escapes my throat when I find it, weak and thready but undeniably there.
"Derrick," I plead, cupping his face in my hands. "Wake up. Please wake up."
His eyelids flutter and then slowly open, his unfocused gaze drifting over my face. "Lainey?" he croaks, his voice hoarse from the smoke.
"I'm here," I assure him, blinking back tears of relief. "You're going to be okay. I'm going to get you out of here."
But as I start to slide my arm beneath his shoulders, Derrick's eyes suddenly widen in alarm. He stares at something over my shoulder, raw fear contorting his soot-streaked features.
"Lainey, behind you-"
I start to turn, my heart leaping into my throat. But before I can see what has Derrick so terrified, a large hand clamps down over my mouth and nose. The acrid scent of smoke is instantly replaced by a cloying chemical smell, sweet and cloying like rotting fruit.
Then the world tilts sideways and darkness floods in.