Chapter 12 Axel
Axel
Igrip the steering wheel so tight my knuckles turn white, staring at the darkened windows of Pike's Perk as I sit in my idling truck.
My lips still burn from her kiss. I can still taste her.
Air rushes in and out of my lungs too fast, like I've just flat-out sprinted and somehow ended up right back here.
That wasn't just a kiss. That was Sadie Calloway letting me in, if only for a moment.
"Holy shit," I whisper to the empty cab.
I start driving, not really seeing the road. My mind keeps replaying the moment she leaned forward, the slight tremor in her fingers against my shirt, the soft gasp when our lips met. How she kissed me like she was drowning and I was air.
And then how quickly she pulled back, walls slamming into place.
This isn't some casual flirtation. This is a woman carrying something so heavy it's crushing her. Court papers. Someone dangerous. Someone she's running from.
The protectiveness that surges through me is almost painful in its intensity. I've never felt this way, this fierce, primal need to stand between someone and whatever's threatening them.
I pull into my driveway and cut the engine but don't get out. The dark truck cab feels safer somehow, a confessional space where I can admit what I'm feeling.
My phone glows on the seat beside me. I want to text her.
I want to hear her voice, remind her she belongs safe, with me.
I can still taste her on my lips, still feel the heat of her body pressed along mine.
My cock is hard, insistent. I want her, need her, but I force myself to wait. She needs space, not my hunger.
"Don't push," I tell myself firmly. "Don't make this about you."
I always use humor to keep shit from getting real.
Make everything safe, easy, never let anyone get close enough to see what I actually want.
But with her, none of that works. With Sadie, all I want is to pull her in, make her mine, keep her locked down and safe where nobody can hurt her. Not this time. Not with her.
I stare at my darkened house. For the first time, I wonder if this is what it feels like to grow up, this certainty that someone else's well-being matters more than my own comfort.
Tomorrow, I'll start quietly looking into Oregon court procedures. Family law. Resources for women dealing with custody issues. I'll be prepared when she's ready to talk more. I'll have answers, not just comfort.
I finally exit the truck, the cool night air clearing my head. I won't tell the family about the kiss, about her fear. I won't turn her life into brewery gossip.
My phone buzzes just as I push open my front door. Sadie's name lights up the screen, and the air seems to thin around me, my stomach dropping hard.
Sadie: Rowan found the court papers in my car. Opened them. Custody hearing in Oregon. Three weeks from now. If I don't show up, I lose Poppy by default.
I freeze in my darkened entryway, reading the message twice. Three weeks. The urgency of it hits me like a physical blow. This isn't some vague future threat; it's happening now.
I type back carefully: Are you okay?
The dots appear, disappear, then appear again.
Sadie: No. But at least I know what I'm facing now.
Me: Can I help?
Another long pause.
Sadie: I don't know. I need to call my lawyer tomorrow. Rowan says we need a plan.
Me: Whatever you need. I'm here.
Sadie: Thank you. For tonight. For everything.
I set my phone down, my mind racing. Sleep is out of the question now. I grab my laptop and settle onto the couch, pulling up search engines and legal sites. Oregon family court. Custody hearings. Default judgments.
Page after page of legal jargon fills my screen.
I read everything I can find, taking notes, building an understanding of what she's facing.
The more I learn, the colder I feel. Default judgments are serious.
If she doesn't appear, the court will likely grant full custody to the father without considering her side.
She'd lose Poppy. The thought makes me physically ill.
As the sun creeps over the horizon, I finally close my laptop. My eyes burn from exhaustion, but my mind is clear and the one person I know I can trust with this just happens to be my lawyer sister.
The morning light filters through the brewery windows as I drag myself in, running on two hours of sleep and enough caffeine to kill a small animal. The digital clock on the wall reads 8:17 a.m. Three weeks. Twenty-one days until Sadie has to appear in court or lose her daughter.
The urgency eats at me like acid. I can't focus on the marketing reports in front of me, can't think about anything except the timer ticking down on Sadie's world. I spent the entire night researching Oregon custody statutes until the legal jargon blurred together, but I'm no lawyer.
Which is why I find myself standing outside Adrienne's office door, hesitating before I knock. My sister is the only attorney in the family, corporate law, not family, but she'll know people. Connections. Resources. Something to help Sadie fight this.
I knock twice, then slip in without waiting for an answer. Adrienne looks up from her desk, glasses perched on her nose, already narrowing her eyes at me.
"What did you do?" she asks immediately, setting down her pen.
"Why do you assume I did something?" I counter, shutting the door behind me.
"Because you're skulking into my office at eight a.m. with that look on your face." She leans back in her chair. "Last time you looked like that, you'd crashed Dad's boat."
I take a deep breath. "I need an Oregon custody attorney referral. Like, good-good. Not just competent. The best."
Her eyebrows shoot up. "Custody attorney?" She studies me for a beat, then her eyes widen. "Please tell me you don't have a secret child."
"No! God, no. It's not for me." I pace in front of her desk. "It's for a… friend."
"A friend," she repeats, folding her arms. "And this friend needs an out-of-state custody attorney because…?"
I hesitate, weighing how much to share. "Single mom. Custody hearing in Oregon in three weeks. She needs help yesterday."
Adrienne's expression shifts from skeptical to serious. "This wouldn't happen to be the café owner you've been mooning over, would it?"
"I haven't been mooning," I mutter, but my face heats up.
"Right." She pulls out a legal pad. "Okay, tell me what you know about the case. Basics only."
I give her the outline: Sadie fled Oregon with her infant daughter, court papers she'd been avoiding, the looming hearing date. I keep it clinical, factual, respecting Sadie's privacy as much as I can while still giving Adrienne what she needs.
Adrienne listens, but my focus isn’t on her. Every word I say, every detail I lay out, just makes the need to protect Sadie sharper. She’s mine to guard now, even if she hasn’t realized it yet.
"This is serious, Axel. Default judgments in custody cases are hard to overturn," Adrienne says, her professional demeanor fully engaged now. "And interstate custody disputes are even more complicated."
"I know." I sink into the chair across from her desk. "That's why I need someone good."
She studies me for a long moment. "You really care about this woman."
It's not a question, but I answer anyway. "Yeah. I do."
Adrienne nods once, decisively. "I know someone. Melissa Chen. We went to law school together, she specializes in complex custody cases, practices in Portland. She's expensive—but she's the best."
Relief floods through me. "Money's not an issue."
My sister's eyebrows shoot up. "Axel, good attorneys in these cases can run upward of fifteen hundred an hour."
"I said it's not an issue." I meet her gaze steadily. "I'll figure it out."
She watches me for another beat, then picks up her phone. "Let me call her now. See if she can squeeze in a consultation today."
I exhale slowly, some of the tension easing from my shoulders as Adrienne dials. While she speaks in low, professional tones to her contact, I check my phone. No messages from Sadie since last night.
"Melissa can do a video call at noon," Adrienne says, hanging up. "I told her it's urgent."
"Thank you," I say, relief washing through me. "Seriously, Adrienne. You're a lifesaver."
She scribbles on her legal pad, tearing off the sheet and handing it to me. "Here's Melissa's contact information. Tell Sadie to mention my name when she calls. Melissa will make time for her."
I take the paper, staring at the neat handwriting with a name, number, email, a lifeline for Sadie. "I owe you big-time."
"You do," Adrienne agrees, but her expression softens. "This is serious, Ax. Whatever's going on with this woman and her child, it's not a game."
"I know that," I say quietly. "Trust me, I know."
She studies me for a moment longer. "Go. And keep me updated."
I fold the paper carefully, tucking it into my wallet. "Will do."
I'm already halfway out the door when Adrienne calls after me. "Axel? Be careful. With your heart, I mean."
I pause, hand on the doorframe. "Too late for that," I admit, then slip out before she can respond.
I race to my truck, Melissa's contact information burning in my pocket.
Sadie needs to know about this, now. The drive to Pike's Perk feels endless, my mind spinning with everything I want to tell her.
This is a solid lead, a real chance, something concrete I can offer instead of just empty comfort.
When I push through the café door, the familiar bell jingles overhead, but something feels off immediately. The afternoon rush is in full swing, customers lined up at the counter, but Sadie isn't behind it. Instead, Rowan looks up, surprise flashing across her face before she smooths it away.
"Hey," I say, approaching the counter and scanning the room again. "Is Sadie around?"
Rowan studies me for a beat too long. "She took the afternoon off."
My stomach drops. In all the times I've been here, I've never seen Sadie absent during business hours. Not once.