21. Ember
EMBER
WHO ARE YOU – MEHRO
My fingertips slide back and forth over the gauze on my forehead, absently fiddling with the adhesive edges. Prescription painkillers aside, I’m nursing a straight whiskey while contemplating the late night skyline.
Behind me, the sound of ice clinking on glass breaks the awkward silence. Warner retrieved the unopened bottle of single malt from his desk for our sombre mood. Though he outright refuses to pour Hyland a measure.
“Can I get a refill?” I raise my glass hopefully.
“No.” Liquid splashes into his. “You shouldn’t be drinking at all.”
“Be glad that you got one,” Hyland groans nearby.
“Some of us got discharged.” I whirl to glower at him.
He’s sprawled out on our sofa, chest bare and covered in blackish-purple clouds. Every inch of him bears the evidence of our near death experience. Hyland can barely move, but he still insisted on coming home to recover.
“I’m not spending another second in a hospital bed,” he grumbles.
“You’re the first to lecture me about my health, but you flee in the face of medical advice when the doctors want to keep you in for another night. Swelling or not, you should’ve stayed there.”
“My CT scan was all clear.”
“I don’t care!”
He adjusts the pillow tucked behind his neck, keeping pressure off his bandaged head wound. “I didn’t need to hear anything else. Got a clean bill of health and a lovely stack of pills. Job done.”
“You were hit by a van!”
“Don’t waste your breath, Em.” Warner is clearly exhausted and limping with each stunted step. “He’s as stubborn as a mule.”
“Why did you agree to pick him up?”
“Because if I didn’t, he would’ve walked instead, and I was already dealing with keeping Tom at bay. He was ready to hightail over here himself to check on you.”
Shit, I need to call my brother back. My phone was inside Hyland’s SUV while I ran. I didn’t need it with him following hot on my heels. Unfortunately, that also means it’s now a puddle of melted glass and plastic.
Hyland chuckles weakly. “Not quite. But I would’ve gotten a cab.”
“When someone tried to kill you twenty-four hours ago?” I jab a finger at him.
“They were obviously just eliminating your protection,” he refutes. “Look how that turned out for them.”
“I’m looking, Hy. We’re a mess.”
For once, Hyland’s smart mouth clicks shut. He’s in no position to argue. By all accounts, it’s miraculous that neither of us were more seriously injured.
Behind the breakfast bar, Warner knocks back an amber shot then pours another. It doesn’t escape my attention that he doesn’t offer one to the dark shadow in the corner, silent and contemplative.
Axel hasn’t uttered a word since we got home. Not even when Warner requested that Blaine give us some time to talk. The Phantom didn’t say much, all too happy to depart this boiling pan of tension to take a stroll.
“Do we have an update?” I finish my final mouthful.
“Kade called.” Warner refills his glass again, barely landing the whiskey inside without spilling. “Bodies have been ID’d as two thugs, known to police.”
“Motive?” Hyland grunts.
“Unclear, but it’s likely they saw Gael’s dark web ad. Fancied themselves a payday.”
“Any signs of other players?” I ask carefully.
His baby blues flick to mine. “Only empty bullets.”
This news causes our silent shadow to shift, arms protectively bracing over his chest. I couldn’t quite string together what happened until I came around for a second time, feeling a lot more lucid.
It’s all painfully clear now. Hyland’s unconscious body. The knife attempting to slice me up. Gunshots. A dead body nearly crushing me to death. Purple hair and honey eyes… but no tattoos.
That’s not my name.
It was Axel. But… not.
A stranger wearing Axel’s face. Axel’s hair. Axel’s features. Yet not a hint of the man I care so deeply about. The one I thought I knew. This person was a carbon copy that my imagination definitely didn’t conjure.
“There’s no ID on the bullets found at the scene,” Warner continues. “So the gun is unlicensed and unregistered. We’ve got a ghost out there, assassinating in broad daylight.”
“He did save my life.” I run a fingertip around the rim of my empty glass.
“We don’t know who he is, so I’ll hold my thanks in reserve.”
With that, Warner turns to face our lovable goof. No hint of playful, jaunty Axel resides in his stone-carved posture. He’s been wordless since I got discharged after a full eval with Doctor Fawn. The displeased specialist gave me a list of warning signs longer than my left arm to look out for.
“That’s not my name.” The repetition tastes like ash on my tongue. “He said that to me. I thought it was you, Ax. But… it wasn’t you. He told me so himself.”
“You’re right,” Axel finally speaks. “It wasn’t me.”
“Then who?”
“Madden did this, he should be here.”
“I don’t care what bullshit Blaine wants to spew right now.” Warner slams his glass down. “Start talking and make it good. Tell us what the fuck is happening.”
Staring at him now, it’s hard to discern this Axel from the man who rescued me. They’re virtually identical. Honestly, part of me worries it was him. That I’m falling into some kind of trap. There isn’t another explanation for it.
“It wasn’t me. I didn’t save Ember, nor did I knock her out.”
“Then who did?” I gawp at him.
He races a shaking hand over his hair. “It’s a long, complicated story.”
“Then uncomplicate it,” Hyland entreats.
We all watch Axel stare down at the floor, his usual oversized slogan tee failing to penetrate his misery. It’s a classic. I’m not angry, this is just my face. Yet none of us are laughing. Not even him.
“I lied to you.” Axel shamefully glances at me then the other two. “I’ve lied since the day we met. In fact, I’ve lied to every person I’ve ever met since I was thirteen years old.”
“Who is he?” Warner lashes out.
Distant neon lights cast strobes across Axel’s devastated expression as he steps into the centre of the room. Nowhere to hide. No armour or protective humour to keep him safe. His bare, broken parts stripped bare for the world to see.
“My twin.”
To my shock, Warner erupts into disbelieving laughter. “Is this a joke?”
Axel shifts on his feet, visibly antsy. “I wish it was.”
“You know that I combed through your background the day you were recruited. I’m sure MI-5 did the same thing. There was absolutely nothing about a sibling of any sort.”
“And you told me that you’re an only child,” I add.
“Officially, I am.” Axel shudders at the way his voice cracks. “Can I please get a drink?”
Warner huffs. “Fine.”
“Come sit, Em.” Hyland pats the spot next to him. “You’re making me nervous.”
“I’m fine here.”
“You’re clearly not. Sit down before you fall over.”
While Warner pours Axel a drink, I reluctantly plop myself down. The pair join us in the living room, taking opposite sides of the sofa. For all the tension lingering between us, there might as well be a whole ocean separating them.
“His name is Gunnar.” Axel takes a large mouthful. “He doesn’t exist on any public record. Not under that name, at least. I think he had another once… Before he found his way back to us.”
“What does that mean?” Warner massages his right knee between winces.
“I didn’t know that I was a twin until he came home. My mum kept his birth a secret. He was relinquished as a baby and never legally tied to her… so I had no idea.”
“Why would she do that?” Hyland questions.
“Because I’m not my father’s son.” Axel stares down into his glass. “He was infertile. Mum had an affair and fell pregnant, but he agreed to raise me. Just not a set of twins. Gunnar had to go.”
“She gave him up,” I state the obvious.
“It was a little more than that.” He smiles brokenly. “My father forced her to get rid of Gunnar unless she wanted to be a homeless, single mother. She was literally bullied into it.”
Warner scrubs his face. “I don’t understand.”
“She was young and terrified. My father could be coercive, even abusive. Having me around kept Mum vulnerable and under his thumb, but he didn’t want the hassle of two mouths to feed.”
“Evil bastard,” I snarl.
“Yeah.” Axels snorts. “None of us knew what happened to Gunnar after that. I grew up with an asshole who couldn’t stand the sight of me and a mother who was too emotionally fragile to be a real parent. When Gunnar returned, I don’t think she was surprised that her past had found her.”
Attempting to wrap my head around Axel’s tale only worsens the throbbing from my head injury. I can’t imagine how Hyland’s coping with the information in his state.
“How did he find you?” I ask more gently.
“Not a clue. Gunnar learned the art of disappearing a long time ago, but he also learned how to hunt along the way. You can ask Madden all about that.”
After a long pause, Warner clears his throat. “Your mother is serving a life sentence for first-degree murder. According to public record, she killed your father.”
“Convenient, right?” Axel laughs without humour.
“Tell us the real story.”
“It’s irrelevant now.”
“If this man is coming after us, then it’s all relevant. We need to know what we’re dealing with.”
“It’s me he wants.” Axel swirls whiskey around his glass. “I helped our mother cover it all up. I lied for her. I erased Gunnar’s existence from our lives.”
“Why?” Hyland prompts.
“Because Mum isn’t a killer. All these years she’s served… it’s a lie. She took the wrap to cover up the fact that Gunnar stabbed my deadbeat dad forty-three times when he returned and learned the truth behind his abandonment.”
Howling wind whips outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the gusts almost drowning out Axel’s dejected whispers. Hyland stares at Axel without a single word to offer. He’s doing better than Warner—head bowed and face buried in his hands.
“I don’t know what happened to Gunnar after he was sent away.” Axel wipes beneath his leaking eyes. “But whatever it was… he was desperate when he came looking for a home. Instead he got the truth, and it broke him.”
“He killed your father?” I whisper.