20. Ant
CHAPTER 20
ANT
I pace my room, my thoughts heavy and tangled.
Axel’s plan hit me like a gut punch. When he first told me, I grabbed him without thinking, slamming him against the wall. I wanted to yell, to make him see how wrong this was, how much it would cost her. But no words came. They never do.
He didn’t fight back, just stared at me, calm and resolute, like he always does when he’s made up his mind.
I let him go, my hands trembling. He didn’t need my approval. Axel never does.
Now I’m alone, fists clenched, jaw tight, frustration clawing at me. I can’t explain what I feel, can’t argue or plead. I can only stand here, trapped in my own head, wishing my silence didn’t feel so suffocating.
The house is too quiet, the kind of quiet that tightens your chest.
I knew I wasn’t going to win the battle with him. He confirmed that when Carter and Gunnar arrived. As soon as it hit four AM, the front door swung open, and they both stumbled through, trying to be the first one in.
It didn’t take long for Axel to start pushing Gunnar away, dismissing him to the room next to mine, demanding he get some sleep after the long journey. I watched as Gunnar walked toward me, heading for his room, fists clenched at his sides, but his chin held high. He gave me a quick nod before disappearing around the corner, shutting the door behind him.
The others try and believe he doesn’t know what goes on, but I’ve lost count of how many times he’s crept into my room after our meetings, demanding to know what was happening.
He knows we used to have a different life, but we’ve never told him the full truth.
He isn’t the little boy we used to chase around the house, or the kid who dressed as Spider-Man and pretended to hang upside down on the sofa.
No… He’s becoming his own man. A man who wants to be with us every step of the way, and I admire him for that. But part of me is terrified of losing the little boy whose biggest worry used to be whether there was a monster under his bed.
He hasn’t left his room since he arrived, but it’s only a matter of time until he learns about what we really do.
A muffled commotion outside yanks me from my thoughts. My head snaps toward the door as I strain to listen.
Then it happens—a male voice cries out in pain.
“Not the balls, woman!” Carter groans.
I can’t help the smirk that tugs at my lips. Carter probably had it coming.
I push off the wall, striding to the door with long, purposeful steps. My chest tightens with the need to see her, to know she’s safe.
Rounding the corner, I find Carter curled up on the floor, cradling his so-called “precious jewels.”
But it’s not him that holds my attention.
She does.
Standing a few steps away is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Her wide brown eyes lock with mine, deep and warm, pulling me in. Dark strands of hair cling to her face, framing her features like a portrait, and all I want to do is reach out, brush them away, and take her in fully.
Then her expression shifts—from surprise to pure, fiery rage.
She breaks free from Flynn’s grasp and storms toward me, her movements sharp and determined.
“YOU?” she yells, jabbing her finger into my chest.
The shock of her touch sends a jolt through me. My breath catches as I stumble back, but I can’t pull my gaze from hers. Her finger lingers for a second too long, the heat of it burning into me, stirring something I can’t quite name.
Her arms cross over her chest, her glare slicing through me. “You’re that guy from the candle aisle.”
My stomach drops.
She remembers.
The air feels too thick, my chest too tight. Her gaze pierces me, pulling at the fragile thread of control I’m clinging to. My heart hammers against my ribs, each beat louder, faster. My hands shake at my sides as I struggle.
Flynn removes his mask, taking a step closer, “Mandy?—”
“Don’t call me that!” she snaps, cutting him off. Her gaze sharpens, locking onto Flynn, and her lips part like she’s about to say something. Then her expression shifts, recognition dawning.
I can see the exact moment the pieces fall into place. Her eyes widen, and her breath catches.
“Parker?” she whispers, the name barely audible.
Flynn freezes, his usual confidence slipping.
Her face crumples, betrayal flashing across her features. “Oh my god. Parker,” she repeats, louder this time, her voice trembling. “That’s you, isn’t it? You lied to me.”
Flynn raises his hands, his expression pleading. “Mandy, I didn’t?—”
“Stop calling me that!” she yells. “You lied to me. About everything.”
I take a small step back, the tension in the room suffocating. Flynn’s gaze flickers to me for help, but I can’t move, can’t speak.
Her hands fly to her head, clutching her hair as she paces in frantic circles. “Oh my god. This is insane. You’re all… You’re all liars.”
Flynn takes a cautious step toward her. “Mandy, please?—”
She spins to face him, her voice breaking. “Stop calling me that!” She presses her hands to her chest. “You don’t get to say my name. You don’t get to act like you care after everything you’ve done.”
Her words are a knife, slicing through the tension, leaving nothing but jagged edges in their wake.
My chest tightens, the air refusing to fill my lungs. I’m breathing too fast—short, shallow gasps that do nothing to ease the weight crushing me from all sides. My hands tremble, clammy and useless at my sides, as my skin prickles with the heat of panic.
Calm down. Pull it together. But the words echo uselessly in my mind. She’s here, and I can’t escape it, not any more. The way she stands there, hurt and disappointed.
She doesn’t even know me, but I feel like I know her. Since the day Axel asked me to look into Eva, Mandy was the first picture I saw. She has the face of an angel, one that I want for myself.
The pressure in my head builds, a relentless, pounding rhythm that blurs everything else—the room, the voices, even my brothers. My legs feel weak, unsteady beneath me, but I manage a step back. Then another.
I need to get away.
Turning, I retreat, my movements clumsy and frantic. I don’t look back. My brothers’ voices call after me, growing louder, sharper, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop. The hallway stretches in front of me, impossibly long, until I finally reach the door to my room.
I shove it open, my pulse roaring in my ears, and slam it shut behind me. My back hits the wood, and I slide down to the floor, pulling my knees to my chest as though I can make myself small enough to disappear.
The muted thud of fists on the door breaks through the haze. Axel. He’s on the other side, shouting something I can’t focus on. I press my hands to my ears, trying to block him out, but it doesn’t help.
His voice carries a raw edge, a worry that tugs at me, but I shake my head violently. My chest heaves, the panic still clawing at me.
No. Not now. I can’t face this. I can’t face them.
The door rattles again. My hands dropping to my sides, trembling as they clench into fists. I want to scream. To make him stop. To tell him to leave me alone. But the words are trapped, stuck in the void where my voice should be.
Instead, I curl tighter, my forehead pressing against my knees, willing the world to go quiet. The only sound is the pounding of my heart, drowning everything else out.
Axel’s voice fades, leaving a heavy silence in its place. I let out a shuddering breath, my mind spiralling with questions I can’t answer.
Why her? Why now?
I don’t know how long I sit there, locked in the storm, waiting for it to pass.